Idiots Write About Sports

It’s been nearly 18 months since I was exiled from my ancestral homeland in the East Bay to Southern California. OK — “exiled” is putting things a bit dramatically. I live four blocks from the Pacific Ocean. Because I work at home, I have pioneered the twin concepts of the 10-second commute and the pantsless office — innovations that will surely make my name known to the Nobel Committee. My lovely wife and I have many friends in the 310 area code and surrounding areas. There are a number of different activities to amuse and divert us — last Saturday, we strolled down to the campus of Loyola Marymount to watch the Gaels of St. Mary’s College put the wood to the hometown Lions and stopped on our way home at a local crepery. Yes, Los Angeles has many things to recommend it, from a semi-regular poker game to easy access to regularly scheduled sunsets.

What it does not have is the Oakland Athletics.

Back when I lived in Alameda — a mere 15-minute dash across the Park Street Bridge to the Oakland Coliseum — I had a 20-game season ticket package for the A’s. (I ended up going to many, many more ballgames each season, of course, because I’m shallow and uninteresting, but I like to set minimums for myself). I had to give that up when forced to flee to L.A., of course, since the 12-hour round-trip commute to A’s games is only slighly less convenient than braving Southern California traffic to see either the Dodgers or the Angels.

For a brief time this off-season, it looked like I might be making my triumphant return to my peeps in the 510. And while such a life change would entail certain sacrifices — guess I gotta wear pants to work again — it did hold the prospect of returning to my triumphant place in the right-field bleachers at the Coliseum.

Well, it didn’t pan out — not yet, anyhow. And while I’m OK with that — that’s why the Good Lord invented the MLB Extra Innings package after all — there are times when the lack of full and immediate access to Athletics baseball fills me with the pang of regret.

Like when I get the e-mail I received today from the Oakland A’s ticket office:

For a limited time, the purchase of A’s season tickets will allow you and a guest to take batting practice at the Coliseum!

Former World Series MVP Dave Stewart and batting champion Carney Lansford will be on hand for this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Face the stare down of Dave Stewart, field grounders from Carney Lansford, or roam the outfield once covered by the likes of Reggie Jackson, Joe Rudi, and Rickey Henderson. It’s all available now to new season ticket holders who sign up prior to February 15, 2005.

For more details on ticket packages (which all include a flexible exchange policy and playoff rights), feel free to call or email me at any time. Thank you for your support.

Taking batting practice against Dave Stewart — how absolutely cool would that be? Oh sure, I’d be whimpering like a frightened bunny the entire time Stew gave me that “the next one’s heading right toward your earhole, chump” glare of his, but I’m sure it would be something to tell the grandkids, assuming I survived the experience.

The A’s throw in other experiences with the stars of long-ago teams — cruising for chicks with Jose Canseco, say — and I’d re-up my season ticket package, 12-hour commute or no.

(Incidentally, any A’s fans actually geographically capable of taking advantage of this offer should feel free to contact us here at Idiot Sports Blog world headquarters, and we’ll pass along the relevant information.)

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