Who Are The Worst Baseball Tv Announcers
'Foodball' instead of baseball
April 03, 2014 - 9:45 a.m.
Flushing Meadows, New York City. Huge stadium. Thousands of fans, all staring at a small ball. "Are they coming with the US Open?" Asks a concerned user. Not quite. To be precise, just off the mark. And by 778 meters.
This is exactly how far the Arthur Ashe Stadium, with 23,000 seats the largest tennis arena in the world, is from the largest stadium in the New York borough of Queens. The Citi Field. What is being played there? Baseball. A fringe sport in Germany, a mass magnet in the USA. In fact, the New York Mets only have two to three days off a month during the regular season. There are games every other day. You can get enough of the sport soon enough.
Think! Citi Field - 45,000 spectators can fit in - is always well attended. An empty stadium on a weekday afternoon? Unthinkable! The fans are also there for seven home games on seven days in a row. Tickets start at five dollars and are easy to get. Unless it's against the rivals, the New York Yankees or the Philadelphia Philies. Today only the San Diego Padres, one of the worst teams in Major League Baseball, are guests. They have been for four days. It is the fourth duel in a row.
12 noon and I'm already in the stadium. Let's see if there is already something going on in one of the favorite sports of the Americans. In fact: where in Germany committed and often drunk football fans cheer on their team an hour before the event, the entertainment program for the family begins in the USA. A more or less funny tradition of the Mets, the 'Banner Day', means that hundreds of fans - mostly children - are allowed to walk across the field with self-made posters. By 10 a.m., three hours before the first pitch, the fans and their banners had to register for the run through the stadium. Now they are finally allowed to go all lined up through the baseball arena. The stadium announcer comments on the whole spectacle live for the obviously interested audience, parents proudly wave to their children. The rest of them enjoy the blazing sun, which makes just sitting around tiring, drinks light beer, and stuffs heaps of food into themselves. They also clap from time to time, but only when the speaker asks them to.
Where did I get into here? I look around: flags, fan scarves, showing passion for the club? Nothing. Here, caps and club jerseys are the only signs of identification. There is no such thing as a fan culture. Choirs or Drums? Nothing. There is silence, if any, murmuring. Instead of drums and fan utensils, you can find hot dogs and other delicacies everywhere. I quickly give up looking for someone who doesn't have a mug or something to eat. Better that way, because there isn't one. Long before the game starts, I feel like I'm in the wrong movie: baseball doesn't seem to have anything to do with sport, as we imagine it, but rather with a family amusement park. After a short time I have had enough and do it like the others. I'm going to get some food. Easier said than done. A different smell seems to beckon from every direction: Nachos, all kinds of chicken products, burgers and pizza types, steaks, French fries, Chinese food and much more. With chicken strips and a portion of fries it goes back to the stands. A few photos taken, 200 fans carrying posters and a meal later, it starts - with this baseball.
Cotton candy for stadium TV
Well, almost at least. The national anthem before the 'kick-off' is simply part of it. A stadium rises and sings along - goosebumps, and all of this still before the game. But really now: The tension is increasing. As a test, a Padres player skirts around a little with his bat. Robert Allen Dickey, the Mets pitcher star, gets ready to throw. He lashes out, throws, uuand ... missed the ball. That wasn’t for the padres man. Anyway, continue. The second throw, uuund ... missed. Well, that won't happen again. Dickey starts throwing again, uuand ... you can guess. It goes on like this - for hours. If I said the guest players hadn't drunk target water - it would be a compliment. The San Diego players are not bad, they are terrible. In all honesty, I wonder if I would be too old for a professional baseball career at 25.
A blond boy in front of me, highly motivated, notes everything in his notepad. "What is he writing?" I ask myself. Anyway, after one and a half hours of play - by the way, there is no real break in baseball (why should it? You only run when someone hits the ball - and you know the Padres players now ...) - I gradually turn away from the game. What is missing in the food mile in the stadium interior, employees sell in the stands: pretzels, donuts, beer, hot dogs (the vendors bark to sell them) and - I still can't believe it - cotton candy. Cotton candy with the beer, and that in the stadium.
Three hours are up now. Traumatized, I look at the scoreboard. It is estimated that every 10 minutes the fans are asked to shout "Let's go, Mets" over the loudspeaker. With success - at least until the three words disappear from the display board. Nobody creates a mood here by itself. The audience would rather watch TV than on the field.
Nothing works here without animation on the screen. No game interruption without a competition. There is a song guessing game, a shell game, a quiz and more - always with the active participation of the (sports) audience, which tries to help a participant with the answer by shouting loudly. The camera is also kept pointing at the audience. The one who dances best to the stadium music 'on air' even receives an award as 'Best Dance Actor'. Yes, the American as such - to be nonsense for everyone. The game: long since a minor matter.
But suddenly: what's going on here? Spectators jump up, clap their neighbors, loud music howls. Danced and clapped. 1-0 for the Mets. Wow! What an atmosphere. A moment later: The music goes off again. People sit down and the next competition begins on the display board. "Answer 1!" Shouts a stronger woman with a beer in her hand. The boy in front of me looks briefly at the screen and then continues to write diligently in his notebook. At least one here who is fascinated by this baseball.
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