Part 1
Yes, you read that right.
The Diablos are back in El Paso, at least for every Wednesday home game. Finally, I can call the Chihuahuas what I’ve
been mentally calling them for their entire existence. The tradition of myself, Chuck,
and Jacob taking in a ball game in El Paso continues for another year. This time Ron joined us for the game. (And we forgot to take a group picture.) Even better, since we bought the tickets a
month ago, this got us out of an after-hours, full organization meeting (though
we did miss barbecue being served).
I’m going to have to mention the traffic from Las Cruces to
El Paso. We left early, but ran right
into rush hour traffic. Further, the
ongoing road construction made a bad situation worse. We picked this particular game for the
Diablos blanket giveaway, but weren’t even close to getting one. Seeing a few floating around, I didn’t feel
too disappointed. Jacob, good-naturedly,
got on to a girl handing out programs, even calling her by name (thanks to her
nametag). She apologized, but you have
to get there early for the freebies. (I
already have the Cody Decker bobblehead.
What could be better than that?)
80’s music filled the air.
Diablos shirts and hats filled the concourse. I was immediately sorry I had lost my old
yellow Diablos giveaway hat. It was
almost like the old days, though nobody was going to mistake the glamorous,
award-winning Southwest University Park for Cohen Stadium (a nice place to see
a game) or the Dudley Dome (umm . . . it had “character” and it wasn’t a dome;
it was barely a standing structure).
We hit the concessions.
I finally got my nachos in a dog bowl.
However upon finally receiving it, I suddenly realized that I just
wanted chips and cheese and not all the other toppings. I ended up handing it to Ron to eat and went
back for pizza. I also don’t have a pet,
so I ended up giving bowl away. (Ron and
Jacob enjoyed the nachos, so it was just me.)
Unsatisfied (either with not having eaten enough or not having spent
enough), late in the game, I went back for a pizza pretzel. The pizza part was actually cooked into the
middle of the pretzel and not a topping.
Points for originality and concept, but in taste, it wasn’t that great,
being way too dry. This all ended up
being an expensive lesson ballpark eatery.
I never even got dessert. Next
time, just get a hamburger (those are good) and a large drink.
Our seats were off to the left of home plate and had a
great, close view of most of the field (except the left field corner, which
would be meaningful later). I have to
mention a couple of attractive ballpark distractions. I remember last year being fascinated by a
waitress in the good seats below us.
This year was no different. The
girl this time had dark hair with blonde highlights at the ends. Way too cute to be considered goth or punk. Her hair kept falling in front of eyes,
forcing her to keep brushing it aside in a most adorable manner.
Meanwhile, our section usher was that rare combination of
cute and beautiful with very long, flowing blonde hair and a sweet face,
covered by oversized eyeglasses. She was
very pleasant and often smiling. Every
half inning, the attendants walk down to the front of their sections for some
reason and then back to the top at the start of the inning. Every time she came down, she kept catching
me looking at her and didn’t seem to mind.
I think we may have been flirting.
On the way out after the game, I caught her eye and mouthed out a “Thank
you,” and she smiled back. If only I
lived in El Paso and had season tickets.
This reminds me of something that happened at Cohen Stadium
in the 90’s with my friend at the time, Kyle.
At one game we were at, he saw a gorgeous section usher and, after
obsessing over her for the whole game, he decided to make a play for her. So, we came back on another night and got
tickets for her section. I should
mention these were really good and expensive seats behind the plate. But first, Kyle needed some courage and had a
couple of the beers at the concessions.
He looked down at her from the concourse, like Gatsby pining for
Daisy. After he had perhaps gotten her
attention from there, we made our down with a couple of more beers, and Kyle
introduced himself to her. Kyle downed
both beers in a couple of innings and sent me back for a couple more. “Six,” she muttered as I walked with both
hands full. “Kyle, I think she’s
counting how much beer you’ve been drinking.”
It had been about six inside of an hour.
Kyle started to give me inning by inning updates on how much
his head weighed. At about 250 lbs, he finally got up to relieve himself, or more accurately, staggered to his feet
and wobbled up the steps. He didn’t
return for an inning. Concerned, I got
up to search to search the bathrooms and the concessions before returning to
our seats. He got my attention as I was
walking back. Kyle was back in the
general admission area behind our seats.
“I can see her better from here.”
I couldn’t argue the logic. He’d
also made the acquaintance of a co-worker of his intended and used her to set
up a meeting. He was indeed granted an
audience about 15-minutes following the game.
Kyle went off to his destiny. And
quickly returned. “Let’s go,” he said,
through a clenched jaw, though he started talking vociferously after we were
out of the stadium.
Here I made my mistake.
I let him drive. Yes, still
bombed and now angry. Somewhat exceeding
the speed limit, Kyle swerved from the on ramp to freeway, and then just as
quickly swerved into the next off ramp and back to the stadium parking
lot. “I may be a little too mad to drive
right now,” he explained. We had both
pointlessly brought mitts to the game, which were obviously useless sitting
behind the screen. I also had a ball, so
we proceeded to play catch for a while.
This ended abruptly as Kyle ended up drunk tossing the ball into the
bushes, and it was gone. Eventually,
Kyle sobered up, and we were the last to leave the stadium. We didn’t go back for the rest of the
season. There’s no real moral to this, I
guess. As I recall, this girl was worth
the embarrassment just to have a shot at her.
Back to the present. It
wasn’t a full house, but it was a great crowd.
Walk-ups looking for cheap SRO or “green” seats were out of luck. The party suites in the outfield were
empty. They should really make those
seats available, since those sections are rented or not well in advance. Our section was popular and packed. Specifically, I was packed in like a sardine
between my large friends. I could just
move my arms enough to fill out scorecard and stuff food in my face. I probably needed a chiropractor afterward to
put my shoulders back in place.
Regardless, it was a happy, enthusiastic bunch in attendance. They were very into the game, arriving mostly
on time and mostly staying to the end.
There were three first pitches. First was a cute little girl who threw 90 mph
strike on the outer black (slight embellishment). Next came a local celebrity, who ran up and
placed the ball in the catcher’s mitt and still bounced it. Finally, and to the loudest applause, came
former Diablos’ owner Jim Paul. He’s
still well thought of for his innovative management of the team. His pioneering promotional techniques are
still in use today right here at the new ballpark.
On field, we had the team in the classic 80’s uniforms. Some of the attendant girls were dressed as
Diamond Girls (more on that later).
Chico was in a Diablos jacket.
The old team didn’t have a mascot, though the San Diego Chicken was a
frequent enough guest to almost qualify.
An old TV news report was shown between innings which featured a montage
of the season passed. Both teams’
coaches, Rod Barajas and Pat Listach, were former Diablos. Pat was introduced for his at bats as
“Lightning” Listach. I don’t think they
had walk up music then, so they went with nicknames.
The voice of the Diablos, Tim Hagerty, in his role as a
baseball historian, was relishing being able to relate tales of the old
team. Is Jon Teicher still around
town? It’d be good to bring him in to
call an inning and talk about the team.
Dearly departed Paul Strelzin, beloved and infamous PA for the team
was discussed for his moment of glory, being ejected for playing Linda
Ronstadt singing, “I’ve Been Cheated,” after a bad umpiring decision. Baseball Digest once did list of ejections
and that one topped it.
Wait, I just remembered there was a game going on too. I remember seeing it. I sure hope this post is continued.
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