My two older sons and I failed in our first attempt to see the Atlanta Braves take on the San Diego Padres at Truist Park May 18 because of inclement weather, and we weren’t mad about it.
The rainout doubled our fun.
Because of the stage of life our boys are in, it’s hard for us to find time to share in activities we enjoy. We typically make it to at least one Braves game a year, but life got in the way last year and prevented it. So when our calendars miraculously synced we jumped at the chance.
This time, we elected to try one of the eateries in The Battery, the shopping and entertainment district adjacent to Truist Park. We ended up sharing a few appetizers at Mac McGee’s, mostly because we could get a table. It was a Saturday night, and The Battery was hopping.
We arrived an hour or so before first pitch and came in the gate from The Battery, the opposite side we usually enter. That gave us a chance to explore parts of the stadium we hadn’t before, including the exhibits off the main concourse. We were in our seats in plenty of time to see the tribute to the armed forces, ceremonial first pitch and national anthem with a giant flag stretched over the outfield.
I hadn’t even noticed that no pitchers were warming up in the bullpens and the dugouts were empty. But immediately after the ceremonies, the giant video screen immediately flashed “Due to inclement weather tonight’s first pitch had been delayed.”
At that moment we swore a blood oath to stick it out until the bitter end that night, even if the game didn’t end until Sunday morning.
Our seats were under the cover, so when it finally started raining, it took us a minute to notice. The grounds crew had rolled out the tarp, and Blooper and his security team were entertaining us with shenanigous behavior in the stands and ultimately out on the field.
For the first hour, the Braves had the radar image playing on the smaller of the two video screens. The main screen mostly showed kids dancing and various shots of people in the stadium being silly.
The party really started hoppin’ when they took down the weather and put up a graphic of a disco ball with the title “Club Braves.” That’s when we noticed an entire section in the upper deck doing line dances in unison. They started letting fans pick the songs through a text-in selection process that no doubt will subject all participants to years of unwanted marketing messages to their phones.
The crowd was into it, and we joked and laughed, thoroughly enjoying just being together. At one point, the wind shifted and the rain blew in on us a little. We opened up our umbrellas and did just fine.
Finally, when the party was at a fever pitch, we got the blue screen of death notifying us that the game was postponed until Monday. That’s when the real miracle happened.
We checked our calendars, and voila, we were all three free again on Monday night. The only hiccup was that I had been called to jury duty that day, which could have interfered with making it to a 6:20 p.m. start of the second game of a double header.
As luck would have it, I was not selected to serve on the jury for a DUI trial and was released in time to swing by the house, pick up the boys and head back to Truist.
The chief differences of attending Monday’s night replay were heavier traffic during weekday rush hour on the top end of the Perimeter, having to wait to park in the E47 deck because it was in use by the office complex and not open until 5:30 p.m., and not having as many other fans in the ballpark.
The Braves had lost the early game of the double header and were looking to salvage one game from the four-game series. The action started early with Acuña opening the bottom half of the first with a triple, a rarity in modern baseball.
The fun kept going all night from there. Ozuna homered. Sale was dealing, striking out nine. We had curly fries. I eschewed my cheap dad reputation and sprang for Dippin’ Dots. Harris ate his out of a little plastic batting helmet, and we laughed at the idea he would try to put the helmet on our miniature poodle, Winston.
The Braves won 3-0. There was still some fan dancing and silliness on the jumbotron, but it was mostly about baseball.
This experience reinforced a lesson I need to be taught repeatedly: when circumstances don’t go your way, rather than get bent out of shape, just go with it and see where it leads. Back in his high school marching band days, Barron used to say he liked when things went wrong. It makes it more interesting.
Last weekend, he was right again. Both nights will stick with us longer because of “inclement weather.”
So as long as it meets with my schedule, I say bring on the rain.
New South Essays 