If
you regard the prospect of spending three hours watching grown men
wave a stick at a ball as the ultimate in boredom, this column is
not for you. But for the sake of those whose hearts go pit-a-pat at
the unmistakable sound of polished ash meeting leather, the Call
offers the following aperçus on the local state of our national
pastime.
To the delight of even diehard skeptics, the
baseball season is heating up and San Francisco is on a roll.
PacBell continues to delight. To a man or woman, out-of-town guests
utter the de rigueur comment that now must come with all airline
packets, "It looks just like an old ballpark!"
Nevertheless, Pete Magowan and his staff have plenty to keep them
busy next winter. The hallways suck cold air in from the wide open
front entrance like a sumo wrestler slurping soba. The
state-of-the-art scoreboard, with its incessant speedboat races and
celebrity trivia, is a perpetual source of… some overpowering
emotion that I can’t quite identify. In fact, the scoreboard
itself triggers deep-seated responses, as eyes are forced to sift
through a visual cacophony of overshadowing ads to find out the ERA
of the pitcher who just stepped onto the mound. But just to be
present at this time in baseball history is a privilege, right?
In the midst of the euphoria over winning games in
a winning stadium, has anyone paid much attention to the Giants’
new systems for providing eager fans with tickets? With PacBell Park
nearly sold out from the day its doors opened, conventional channels
avail naught. It’s still possible to get a seat, the Giants’ PR
puffs. Say you wake up one morning with an overwhelming urge to go
to a ballgame. Not to worry. Five hundred tickets have been set
aside for day-of-game sales. All you need to do is show up four
hours before the game begins, to receive a numbered wristband. Stick
around for an hour, to hear which wristband, drawn at random, will
be first in line to purchase tickets. Wait another hour for the
ticket windows to open. Of course, the Giants add, "Ticket
availability and locations are always subject to availability."
Or
you can go the splurge route and visit the Giant’ Double
Play Ticket Window, where nonattendees sell their tickets to
grateful fans. Amazing bargains occasionally appear. This week a
couple with $1,100 could nab a couple of Premium Field Club seats
for the Cubs game on September 3. But most pairs run in the $100-200
range, to purchase tickets that cost their original owners $40–50
for the two. It’s unclear what happens to the surplus. An Examiner
story written in June, when the service began, says, "Season
ticket holders can list their seats for resale on the web at face
value or above, with the Giants taking a 10 percent cut of the sale
price." The receipt for recently purchased pair bore the
notation "ticket value: $61.00; handling, $47.90."
Bureaucratic euphemism? Perhaps. The receipt also carried the
heading "bass tickets," while the team’s web site
announces, "For your convenience, all transactions are handled
by the Giants." The Giants didn’t respond to a request for
elucidation.
Nevertheless, the free enterprise system is still
alive and well in this city. The dot.com world itself has stepped
into the breach. Not only does our hometown Mr. Fix-It, Craig’s
List, list a variety of Giants tickets. A site maintained by Helder
Balelo also offers a wide range of seats and prices.
Play ball!
