It was the middle of the fourth. The Utah Dirty Sodas were dealing the Reno Aces a stacked deck. All eyes were fixed on center field. Suddenly, the 4-1 score was out of mind.
Amid the thundering roar of the crowd, a melon, a carrot, an apple and an ear of corn approached the starting line. Mellie the Melon took the early lead, sprinting toward the finish in right field. On her right, Cornelius Corn had this perpetual smile but not a kernel of oomph to move up. Then out of nowhere, Rooty the Carrot made his move, slicing his way between the apple and the melon.
There’s nothing like a good produce race!
And, yes, there was also a ball game going on.
This is the second season for the Salt Lake Bees — or should I say the Dirty Sodas? — playing at The Ballpark at America First Square. It is an amazing experience, from the Utah-centric restaurants of Downtown Daybreak beyond center field to Beddy’s Berm in right, where families watch the game from blankets, hoping to catch a home run ball.
I have to admit, I’ve never really understood the dirty soda concept. But with the Bees playing that night in their Dirty Sodas jerseys, I was soon to learn.
Bottom of the first, and we were just getting settled into our dugout-level seats on the first-base side. With a beer in the cupholder, I was working my way through a giant bag of peanuts. As a kid, I used to love licking the salt off the shells. Can’t do that today.
The Dirty Sodas got off to a great start, loading the bases. Raudi Rodriguez, a Dominican Republic-born Dirty Sodas outfielder, came up and cleared them with a triple to the wall.
Now, this was great baseball! But the fans had other ideas. I learned that if the Dirty Sodas scored four runs in an inning, it meant free dirty sodas for all.
The line was already forming as Bryce Teodosio came to bat, sending Rodriguez home with run No. 4 four on an RBI single as fans descended on the Swig cart for their freebie.
A baseball game still takes me back to my youth. For me, it was regular trips to see the Milwaukee Braves at County Stadium in the late ’50s and early ’60s. I have memories of that 1957 World Series title season and following heroes like Hank Aaron and Eddie Mathews. I’m sure I didn’t understand the game as an 8 year old, but it was a trip with Dad or Grandpa to the “game.”
At the end of the third, it was hot dog time. I scouted J Dawgs in center field. My seatmate, Paul, a wildland firefighter captain from nearby Camp Williams, was in search of a rare Chicago dog. He found it at the Franx stand on the third-base side.
For just $10, I had a beautiful dog in a soft poppy seed bun with relish and all the accouterments, topped off with a zig-zaggy line of yellow mustard. It was a perfect complement to a Wasatch Juicy IPA.
But soon it was time to complete the lyric, with mascots Bumble and Swiggy leading the way. For some reason, Paul instantly knew “Pink Pony Club” from Chappell Roan. The entire crowd knew “Sweet Caroline.”
Meanwhile, the score kept mounting.
Religion and sport always seem to come together in the middle of the seventh at a ball game. I proudly stood and joined the crowd for “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” the old vaudeville tune that generations of baseball fans have turned into a seventh-inning ritual.
In the bottom of the eighth, the Aces reached desperation stage as catcher Christian Cerda came in to pitch. His unorthodox style was very wrist-heavy, and his slider came in nearly 20 mph slower than the pitches we’d been watching all night.
We laughed. Then he retired three straight batters to get out of the inning.
But all good things come to an end. Before we knew it, we were in the top of the ninth with an insurmountable lead. I took a final sip of beer. In the darkness of a gorgeous South Jordan evening, the Aces’ A.J. Vukovich struck out.
The ball game was over.
For a few hours, though, it had felt wonderfully familiar — peanuts and hot dogs, silly songs and seventh-inning traditions, a night at the ballpark that somehow still felt a little like those trips to County Stadium with dad and grandpa.
Only now, instead of racing sausages, I was cheering for a carrot.
DETAILS
Getting There: Plan on an hour getting there for a night game with traffic, a bit easier coming back. It’s I-80 to 21st Street Freeway out to the Mountain View Expressway, then 13 miles south.
Dining: I have to say, the food at the ballpark is great and reasonably priced. Or you can grab a bite in Downtown Daybreak in the outfield with Hires, Nomad, Red Iguana, and Rockwell ice cream.
Tickets: For just $11.50 you can park yourself with a blanket on the rightfield berm. Stadium seating runs around $20-$30.