To continue the common theme here at The Writings of posting things after they are no longer timely, this summation of days 3-5 of the Road Trip of Derek Larson comes two days after I returned home. This lack of punctuality was the plan all along.*
*Cough*LIAR*cough.
In our last post - which may be commonly referred to as The Epic of Derek, thanks to it's absurd length* - Derek traveled to Arkansas, caught a Double-A baseball game, was awaken by some sort of terrorist infiltration alarm, and traveled across Missouri into Illinois. As we pick things up in part 2 of The Epic, our protagonist is departing from his stay in Galesburg, Ill., and headed toward Clinton, Iowa.
*The Cliffs Notes will be available in bookstores soon.
News flash - I can be easily distracted. While I do not officially have Attention Deficit Disorder, at times I like to consider myself as an honorary member of the ADD society. With one task on my mind, the simple sight of something out of the ordinary ("Ooh, an Arby's!") can throw me off completely. This journey marks one such occasion, as it seems some sort of distraction led me to divert from my intended route. I pulled into a gas station, grabbed my road atlas, and attempted to gain my bearings. It was at this time that I found an alternate route guaranteed to be more scenic, as it would travel right along the Mississippi River. After a quick discussion with my navigator*, this new route was accepted, and I was back on track.
*I do my best to make talking to myself sound reasonable.
While the alternate route brought a bit of frustration, courtesy massive road construction efforts, it also brought provided the opportunity to assuage my inner gambler.
At the sight of a casino, I slammed on my brakes, swerved to the right, hopped a curb, parked illegally, jumped from my car and ran inside, shouting "ching, ching" all the way. Sprinting up to the nearest roulette table, I put $500 on red, only to see that little ball settle on 26 black. Discouraged, but not defeated, I continued to feed the gambling demon inside me, only to leave when I had lost all my cash and I discovered they wouldn't accept my scorecard from the Northwest Arkansas Naturals game as a bet. As a result, I currently live in the streets of Davenport, Iowa, and I'm typing this Writing from the laptop of a Starbucks customer who is currently in the restroom.
Remember when I said I can be easily distracted? Consider the previous paragraph as proof. In truth, as I drove through Davenport, I found that this area of town along the river seemed to be a pretty nice location. Thanks in part to the Holiday Inn's "You'll Wake Up and You'll Like It" alarm from the morning before, I was well ahead of schedule, so I decided to stop and check things out. I did go and check out the casino, however my gambling exploits were not as bold as those detailed above. Embracing my "wuss bets" nature, I played nothing but penny and nickel slots. I left with $6 less than I arrived with, and the knowledge that this particular casino was basically a retirement home with smoking, drinks, and slot machines. I'm pretty confident I was the youngest person there by about 40 years.
After departing the casino, I took a stroll along the river. It was there that I encountered a rather large (read: obese), shirtless man, who wore shorts that appeared to be a bit too small; a wanna-be singer who was having a friend snap pictures of her on the stage of an ampitheater, and another large man who was putting his shirt on as he walked toward the casino. None of this is really relevant at all, but I am glad the last guy was going to follow the "no shoes, no shirt" policy at the casino.
A scenic trip on Highway 67 brought took me to Clinton, where I found the need to adjust my initial plans for lodging. Such changes were deemed necessary when I discovered that the hotel I orginally planned to stay at was located next to three rough looking bars and a gentleman's club. I decided this lodging option did not meet my strict standards for overnight stay options*, and found an alternate option.
*Rule No. 1 - Don't stay someplace where the odds of you getting stabbed are 1:1.
After settling in, I was off to Alliant Energy Field to see the Burlington Bees attempt to sting the Clinton Lumberkings.
Hitting the highlights...
- The folks in Clinton seem to take the "park" in "ballpark" very seriously, as there seemed to be as many seats available at picnic tables around the field as there were in the stands. It gave the game the feel of a little league contest. Unfortunately, I did not witness any angry parents shouting from the stands or players sitting down in the outfield.
- The drop from Double-A ball to Single-A was noticeable. The stadium featured no video board, and names did not appear on jerseys, again contributing to a little league feel. Unfortunately, I'm unsure whether the teams went out for pizza after the game.
- During the eighth inning, the folks in the stadium PA box played the chicken dance. After watching those that participated, I determined this is the method used to determine who in the stadium is no longer sober enough to drive home.
- Instead of traditional ballpark vendors, this park featured waitresses walking around with serving trays and taking drink orders. I'm unsure whether LumberKings* management conducted studies to determine that drink sales increase when those in the stands feel like they're at a bar. If so, it seems that the next step is having a jukebox in the dugout and a pool table in the outfield.
*For those curious, it seems that a LumberKing is simply a lumberjack wearing a crown. I'm not sure how many lumberjacks in the world are actually of royal bloodlines, but it may be worth looking into.
- In regard to the actual baseball game that took place, Burlington picther Ivor Hodgson showed some pitches that moved as if they had minds of their own. He struck out 12 batters in just 5 2/3 innings. Burlington topped Clinton 6-4, putting Royals-affiliated squads at 1-1 on my trip.
Friday morning, I departed the wondrous city of Clinton on my way to Omaha, Neb. This trip called for driving the entire length of Iowa, from east to west. Luckily, I wasn't traveling alone. You see, a friend called rain decided to accompany me for a few hours that morning.
While the company provided by such precipitation was appreciated*, the rain and I decided to part ways before arriving in Des Moines. Because I had plenty of driving at hand and little time for detours, I drove Interstate 80 for the length of this trip. As a result, the scenery I witness on this journey could be summed up in one word: corn. By the time I reached Omaha, I was having a hard time distinguishing what was real and what was the result of cornfield overload hallucination. The Kellogg's Corn Flakes rooster on my shoulder telling me stop at every grocery store for Corn Flake goodness certainly wasn't helping, either.
*In the same way one appreciates a flesh-eating virus.
In Omaha, I found myself cursing the person who first came up with the idea of a one-way street. Driving through the downtown area, it seemed every turn I wanted to make involved going the wrong way on a one-way. With rebellion not being part of my nature, I fought such notions and drove through the city as if I was obeying a short-circuiting GPS unit. I don't consider it a good sign when you make it from one end of a city of 390,000 people to the other and still have no idea where you are going to be lodging. I'd say my meandering trip went unnoticed, but there are probably a few folks on street corners that noticed a car with Kansas plates drive by multiple times who would disagree.
After finally finding a place to lay my head that did not involve sneaking into the zoo, I was off to Rosenblatt Stadium.
I gathered from the souvenir program that the theme for the 2009 Omaha Royals is "Fun Rules!" Sadly, the Royals entered the contest sitting at the bottom of the Pacific Coast League. Fun may rule, but it apparently doesn't involve success.
One thing fun must involve is screaming, as the kids in attendance treated the game as if it were a Jonas Brothers concert. I'm not sure why a t-shirt toss calls for ear-crippling cries, but apparently it must be listed in the Fun Rulebook.
The Royals lost to the Las Vegas 51s, 6-4. Despite the losing effort, I enjoyed the chance to see the Triple-A Royals in action. For those unaware, Triple-A is the highest level of the minor leagues, meaning many players on this squad are one sprained ankle away from playing in Kansas City. The fact that the Triple-A version of the Royals is in last place, though, does not seem to say much for the immediate future for the major league club.
The big event following the game was a fireworks display, which I decided would serve as a replacement for the colorful explosions I missed seeing while away on business for Independence Day. This particular display proved noteworthy due to the soundtrack that accompanied the show. I'm not sure what exactly Ace of Base's "All That She Wants (is another baby)" or Inner Circle's "Bad Boys" (the theme from Cops) have to do with fireworks, but I'm sure there's an explanation out there somewhere. (Even if it involves a disgruntled employee.)
With my time in Omaha coming to a close, I discovered the following morning that the Days Inn in the city is apparently the preferred lodging for hobbits in the area. The showerhead was situated no higher than the top of my chest. I could handle such an issue, but I soon discovered another problem. It seemed that the hobbits that normally inhabit this room had an issue with hot water. The basic liquid intended to wash me reached a temperature no higher than that of soup that has been sitting out for a day. Before this trip, I knew I was not a morning person, but now I am wondering if mornings are taking offense to this fact. If I ever am run down by a steamroller that has been hijacked by an escaped gorilla, I am sure it will happen in the morning.
A Saturday trip to Kansas City gave me the chance to meet up with my brother and some close friends for the final baseball game of the trip - a battle between the Kansas City Royals and the Oakland A's at "The New" Kauffman Stadium.
While I can be considered a bit of a loner, (or a hermit,) I definitely enjoyed the chance for a little human interaction after days of talking to few ballparkgoers that would pass a sobriety test. I also relished the opportunity to take in the sights at the renovated stadium. It definitely impressed, and I'm looking forward to going there again for the chance to check out new Royals Hall of Fame.
During the game, I discovered one detail about Royals fans that cannot be argued: they're literate. Everytime the stadium video board urged fans to get "louder" or "make some noise" such instructions were followed as if they were military commands. A study of cause-and-effect relationships leads to the conclusion that fans must read the words on the board in order to comprehend them. Therefore, we have literate fans. I think there's a marketing slogan in there somewhere.
Royals ace pitcher Zack Greinke took the mound for the Royals, and while he gave up more runs than he does normally (three... which speaks to how dominant he's been this season), the offense offered a performance very out-of-the-ordinary, scoring 12 runs. An excellent capper to the Road Trip of Derek Larson. The Royals topped the A's 12-6, pushing the Royals organization to a 2-2 record in games viewed by the author. Not too shabby.
With the trip now in the rear view mirror (figuratively and literally, in a figurative sort of way), I am not sure I could have picked a better agenda for this vacation. I got to see plenty of baseball, watch some upcoming prospects, view a lot of scenery along the open road, encounter a variety of people, and absorb plenty of material for The Writings. There's just one thing to do now... Figure out where the Second-Annual Road Trip of Derek Larson will take me.
*Cough*LIAR*cough.
In our last post - which may be commonly referred to as The Epic of Derek, thanks to it's absurd length* - Derek traveled to Arkansas, caught a Double-A baseball game, was awaken by some sort of terrorist infiltration alarm, and traveled across Missouri into Illinois. As we pick things up in part 2 of The Epic, our protagonist is departing from his stay in Galesburg, Ill., and headed toward Clinton, Iowa.
*The Cliffs Notes will be available in bookstores soon.
News flash - I can be easily distracted. While I do not officially have Attention Deficit Disorder, at times I like to consider myself as an honorary member of the ADD society. With one task on my mind, the simple sight of something out of the ordinary ("Ooh, an Arby's!") can throw me off completely. This journey marks one such occasion, as it seems some sort of distraction led me to divert from my intended route. I pulled into a gas station, grabbed my road atlas, and attempted to gain my bearings. It was at this time that I found an alternate route guaranteed to be more scenic, as it would travel right along the Mississippi River. After a quick discussion with my navigator*, this new route was accepted, and I was back on track.
*I do my best to make talking to myself sound reasonable.
While the alternate route brought a bit of frustration, courtesy massive road construction efforts, it also brought provided the opportunity to assuage my inner gambler.
At the sight of a casino, I slammed on my brakes, swerved to the right, hopped a curb, parked illegally, jumped from my car and ran inside, shouting "ching, ching" all the way. Sprinting up to the nearest roulette table, I put $500 on red, only to see that little ball settle on 26 black. Discouraged, but not defeated, I continued to feed the gambling demon inside me, only to leave when I had lost all my cash and I discovered they wouldn't accept my scorecard from the Northwest Arkansas Naturals game as a bet. As a result, I currently live in the streets of Davenport, Iowa, and I'm typing this Writing from the laptop of a Starbucks customer who is currently in the restroom.
Remember when I said I can be easily distracted? Consider the previous paragraph as proof. In truth, as I drove through Davenport, I found that this area of town along the river seemed to be a pretty nice location. Thanks in part to the Holiday Inn's "You'll Wake Up and You'll Like It" alarm from the morning before, I was well ahead of schedule, so I decided to stop and check things out. I did go and check out the casino, however my gambling exploits were not as bold as those detailed above. Embracing my "wuss bets" nature, I played nothing but penny and nickel slots. I left with $6 less than I arrived with, and the knowledge that this particular casino was basically a retirement home with smoking, drinks, and slot machines. I'm pretty confident I was the youngest person there by about 40 years.
After departing the casino, I took a stroll along the river. It was there that I encountered a rather large (read: obese), shirtless man, who wore shorts that appeared to be a bit too small; a wanna-be singer who was having a friend snap pictures of her on the stage of an ampitheater, and another large man who was putting his shirt on as he walked toward the casino. None of this is really relevant at all, but I am glad the last guy was going to follow the "no shoes, no shirt" policy at the casino.
A scenic trip on Highway 67 brought took me to Clinton, where I found the need to adjust my initial plans for lodging. Such changes were deemed necessary when I discovered that the hotel I orginally planned to stay at was located next to three rough looking bars and a gentleman's club. I decided this lodging option did not meet my strict standards for overnight stay options*, and found an alternate option.
*Rule No. 1 - Don't stay someplace where the odds of you getting stabbed are 1:1.
After settling in, I was off to Alliant Energy Field to see the Burlington Bees attempt to sting the Clinton Lumberkings.
Hitting the highlights...
- The folks in Clinton seem to take the "park" in "ballpark" very seriously, as there seemed to be as many seats available at picnic tables around the field as there were in the stands. It gave the game the feel of a little league contest. Unfortunately, I did not witness any angry parents shouting from the stands or players sitting down in the outfield.
- The drop from Double-A ball to Single-A was noticeable. The stadium featured no video board, and names did not appear on jerseys, again contributing to a little league feel. Unfortunately, I'm unsure whether the teams went out for pizza after the game.
- During the eighth inning, the folks in the stadium PA box played the chicken dance. After watching those that participated, I determined this is the method used to determine who in the stadium is no longer sober enough to drive home.
- Instead of traditional ballpark vendors, this park featured waitresses walking around with serving trays and taking drink orders. I'm unsure whether LumberKings* management conducted studies to determine that drink sales increase when those in the stands feel like they're at a bar. If so, it seems that the next step is having a jukebox in the dugout and a pool table in the outfield.
*For those curious, it seems that a LumberKing is simply a lumberjack wearing a crown. I'm not sure how many lumberjacks in the world are actually of royal bloodlines, but it may be worth looking into.
- In regard to the actual baseball game that took place, Burlington picther Ivor Hodgson showed some pitches that moved as if they had minds of their own. He struck out 12 batters in just 5 2/3 innings. Burlington topped Clinton 6-4, putting Royals-affiliated squads at 1-1 on my trip.
Friday morning, I departed the wondrous city of Clinton on my way to Omaha, Neb. This trip called for driving the entire length of Iowa, from east to west. Luckily, I wasn't traveling alone. You see, a friend called rain decided to accompany me for a few hours that morning.
While the company provided by such precipitation was appreciated*, the rain and I decided to part ways before arriving in Des Moines. Because I had plenty of driving at hand and little time for detours, I drove Interstate 80 for the length of this trip. As a result, the scenery I witness on this journey could be summed up in one word: corn. By the time I reached Omaha, I was having a hard time distinguishing what was real and what was the result of cornfield overload hallucination. The Kellogg's Corn Flakes rooster on my shoulder telling me stop at every grocery store for Corn Flake goodness certainly wasn't helping, either.
*In the same way one appreciates a flesh-eating virus.
In Omaha, I found myself cursing the person who first came up with the idea of a one-way street. Driving through the downtown area, it seemed every turn I wanted to make involved going the wrong way on a one-way. With rebellion not being part of my nature, I fought such notions and drove through the city as if I was obeying a short-circuiting GPS unit. I don't consider it a good sign when you make it from one end of a city of 390,000 people to the other and still have no idea where you are going to be lodging. I'd say my meandering trip went unnoticed, but there are probably a few folks on street corners that noticed a car with Kansas plates drive by multiple times who would disagree.
After finally finding a place to lay my head that did not involve sneaking into the zoo, I was off to Rosenblatt Stadium.
I gathered from the souvenir program that the theme for the 2009 Omaha Royals is "Fun Rules!" Sadly, the Royals entered the contest sitting at the bottom of the Pacific Coast League. Fun may rule, but it apparently doesn't involve success.
One thing fun must involve is screaming, as the kids in attendance treated the game as if it were a Jonas Brothers concert. I'm not sure why a t-shirt toss calls for ear-crippling cries, but apparently it must be listed in the Fun Rulebook.
The Royals lost to the Las Vegas 51s, 6-4. Despite the losing effort, I enjoyed the chance to see the Triple-A Royals in action. For those unaware, Triple-A is the highest level of the minor leagues, meaning many players on this squad are one sprained ankle away from playing in Kansas City. The fact that the Triple-A version of the Royals is in last place, though, does not seem to say much for the immediate future for the major league club.
The big event following the game was a fireworks display, which I decided would serve as a replacement for the colorful explosions I missed seeing while away on business for Independence Day. This particular display proved noteworthy due to the soundtrack that accompanied the show. I'm not sure what exactly Ace of Base's "All That She Wants (is another baby)" or Inner Circle's "Bad Boys" (the theme from Cops) have to do with fireworks, but I'm sure there's an explanation out there somewhere. (Even if it involves a disgruntled employee.)
With my time in Omaha coming to a close, I discovered the following morning that the Days Inn in the city is apparently the preferred lodging for hobbits in the area. The showerhead was situated no higher than the top of my chest. I could handle such an issue, but I soon discovered another problem. It seemed that the hobbits that normally inhabit this room had an issue with hot water. The basic liquid intended to wash me reached a temperature no higher than that of soup that has been sitting out for a day. Before this trip, I knew I was not a morning person, but now I am wondering if mornings are taking offense to this fact. If I ever am run down by a steamroller that has been hijacked by an escaped gorilla, I am sure it will happen in the morning.
A Saturday trip to Kansas City gave me the chance to meet up with my brother and some close friends for the final baseball game of the trip - a battle between the Kansas City Royals and the Oakland A's at "The New" Kauffman Stadium.
While I can be considered a bit of a loner, (or a hermit,) I definitely enjoyed the chance for a little human interaction after days of talking to few ballparkgoers that would pass a sobriety test. I also relished the opportunity to take in the sights at the renovated stadium. It definitely impressed, and I'm looking forward to going there again for the chance to check out new Royals Hall of Fame.
During the game, I discovered one detail about Royals fans that cannot be argued: they're literate. Everytime the stadium video board urged fans to get "louder" or "make some noise" such instructions were followed as if they were military commands. A study of cause-and-effect relationships leads to the conclusion that fans must read the words on the board in order to comprehend them. Therefore, we have literate fans. I think there's a marketing slogan in there somewhere.
Royals ace pitcher Zack Greinke took the mound for the Royals, and while he gave up more runs than he does normally (three... which speaks to how dominant he's been this season), the offense offered a performance very out-of-the-ordinary, scoring 12 runs. An excellent capper to the Road Trip of Derek Larson. The Royals topped the A's 12-6, pushing the Royals organization to a 2-2 record in games viewed by the author. Not too shabby.
With the trip now in the rear view mirror (figuratively and literally, in a figurative sort of way), I am not sure I could have picked a better agenda for this vacation. I got to see plenty of baseball, watch some upcoming prospects, view a lot of scenery along the open road, encounter a variety of people, and absorb plenty of material for The Writings. There's just one thing to do now... Figure out where the Second-Annual Road Trip of Derek Larson will take me.
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