Travel Stories: Spring Training

I know you can't go now but later when it's safe you should go

Have you ever been to Spring Training? I hadn’t. I always wanted to go, and at some point in my childhood I recall my parents discussing the possibility, but it didn’t happen. Florida wasn’t close to where we lived and Arizona was even further. Probably more to the point, my parents would’ve much rather spent their vacation dollars on trips that weren’t focused on watching baseball players with uniform numbers in the 90s play other baseball players with uniform numbers in the 90s while getting sunburned.

None of this deterred me. As a kid I didn’t get input into where our family went on vacation, but once I become an adult, I didn’t just have input, I was the only input! As such, it became perfectly acceptable to save money by living in a crappy apartment where strange brown goo seeped from the ceiling into the kitchen because the money saved could be spent on a trip to Clearwater and Fort Myers with your friends. That’s called decision making and I’m damn famous for it.

I have been fortunate enough to attend spring training four times, twice in Florida and twice in Arizona. Florida is its own place. There are parts of Alabama and Mississippi and maybe some parts of Georgia that you could mistake for Florida, but only if you’re squinting, which you might do because it’s very sunny! The jokes about “Florida Man” work because they’re true, or as close to truth as can be tolerated by a joke. The state attracts its own breeds, a group consisting of retired North Easters, the insanely rich, and the insanely rich at heart, often minus the “rich at heart” part. During my time in Clearwater, I witnessed numerous acts of Florida Man including two people walking through a motel parking lot naked to use the motel’s hot tub, an act all the stranger because they weren’t staying at that motel.

There was a breakfast place so crowded that there was a multi-hour long wait list. You waited outside in the parking lot and they called parties in over the PA system. While we were waiting outside we heard the following announcement, “Jim, party of four, Jim, party of four. Also, we won’t call your party if you aren’t wearing clothes, so to the gentleman by the green Chrysler, please put on your shirt and pants.”

We saw Phillies games at Brighthouse Networks Field, perhaps the best spring training park I’ve ever been to. We caught a game at McKecknie Field in Bradenton, spring training home of the Pittsburgh Pirates since 1923. And of course though we were staying in Clearwater outside Tampa, I forced everyone to drive down to Fort Myers, where we saw the Red Sox play at old City of Palms Park, and then, years later, we did the drive again to see the Sox play at the new JetBlue Park, AKA Fenway South. City of Palms was a wonderful park, and I was sad to see it go. Its open concourses let in the Florida sun, a warmth welcome after a northeastern or northwestern winter, and its white facade was slightly reminiscent of old Tiger Stadium had there ever been palm trees in Detroit.

The time I made it to JetBlue Park was following a cross country flight, a Phillies game, and a two and a half hour drive, so I was pretty wiped out. I may or may not have fallen asleep around the fifth inning. Also Bobby Valentine was managing the team, so potentially this was in protest.

They say Arizona is better because the parks are closer together and so you spend less time driving. That is true, and if you’re a scout or a team executive that could be a selling point, but as a fan, it’s just different. The parks in Florida are very Florida and if you dig that, and I do, then it’s worth sitting in the car for, even if you’ve just spent seven hours on a plane. That said, the parks in Arizona are great too. They are, after all, still spring training parks. They’re open, small, and have that spring training newness and romance to them. And it doesn’t rain in Arizona so you almost never (read: never) get a rainout.

The one downside to Arizona is it’s hot. They say it’s a dry heat but so is sticking your head in an oven. The part about different parks being close is mostly true as well. You could see the Reds, Giants, Angels, and Cubs on the same day if their games weren’t scheduled for the same time, which they are. But in theory! The parks in Arizona seem newer as well, with slightly better food and fuller gift shops. Fewer naked people in the parking lots too, though that could be because anyone who dares to take their clothes off outside in Arizona will find themselves with torched nether regions right quick.

If you are taking a week off work and going with friends, it almost doesn’t matter how much driving you’re doing. We’d wake up, get breakfast somewhere, drive to our first game, drive to our second game if we could find another game that day, get dinner, and then find a place to sit outside and drink beers until 2am. That works whether you’re in Arizona or Florida. The advantage to Florida, I’ve found, is that’s where the Red Sox play.

The one time I went to Arizona without friends was when I took my then 9-year-old son. We rented an orange Mustang (not on purpose; it was the only car they had available!), went to the most sparsely attended games we could find, and drove south to check out the huge cacti at Saguaro National Park. That was some of the most fun I’ve ever had. There’s really nothing like sharing a passion for baseball with your son. I sound like a Kevin Costner movie from the 80s but damned if it isn’t true.

That’s the thing about spring training. It’s not really about the baseball. That’s true for the teams and the players too. Nobody cares if you win or lose. That’s not a problem either, it’s a good thing. There’s no stress. You can root for the Sox and if Xander hits one out, fantastic! What was the final score again? No idea. If you get to see Dalbec hit one off the wall, fantastic! What was the final score again? No idea. If Sale throws an inning and Ks two guys, fantastic! What was the final score again? No idea. And if the Twins walk it off in the ninth, whatever, it doesn’t count anyway, go to the beach, have a beer, BS with your friends til 2am, or tell your son stories about playing high school ball. It’s those memories, that bonding, being with the ones you love, not what happened on the field.

I know nobody can do anything now, or at least nobody should, but spring training is here, I just wrote about Jackie Bradley, and so I thought I’d share some spring training memories. Thanks for indulging me. Back to your irregularly scheduled Red Sox analysis tomorrow.

One Last Pod-Related Note

One last note: the Sox Outsider Podcast is blowing up! I spoke with Craig Goldstein, Editor-in-Chief of Baseball Prospectus for Episode 7 on Monday and then I talked with Michael Baumann of The Ringer for Episode 8 which came out yesterday. Just fantastic guests. Check them out, I think you’ll enjoy them. There’s more great guests on the way as well, so be sure to subscribe!

As a thanks for reading (and listening), here’s a slightly blurry picture of Manny Ramirez.