10 July 2006

Sand, Surf, Strikes

I attended my first Brooklyn Cyclones game last night, and though the team is of only a few seasons' standing, the experience had the feeling of age-old tradition. The pairing of Brooklyn and Baseball goes back a long time after all, as does Coney Island, the honkytonk neighborhood that gives the stadium a home, its name (after the famed nearly rollercoaster) and a certain raffish character which only adds to the sportive fun. (You can "Shoot the Geek" on the way to the game, while munching on your funnel cake.)

Attending this smallish stadium, one can get an inkling of the homey, intimate pastime baseball once was, as well as the slat-air-and-neon appeal Coney Island used to hold. The worst seat in the stadium will afford you a fine view of the ocean and the neighboring attractions The Wonder Wheel and the Cyclone itself—as well as bountiful ocean breezes. Charming, too, are the low-tech advertisements for local exterminators and waste disposal outfits that adorn the big screen beside the scoreboard.

Unfortunately, the Cyclones stunk up the place on this particular day, in an error-filled game against State College's Spikes. I wanted to wait until the sky was sufficiently dark to witness the illumination of the long-dormant Parachute Jump, of which the stadium has a commanding view. This tradition began on July 8. But, by the middle of the ninth inning, the towering metal structure remained a shadow, so we left. Curse Daylight Savings Time.

1 comment:

dronbyfoto said...

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