Here’s some incomplete, incoherent, and inconclusive reactions to my two trips out to Zebulon, NC Wednesday and Thursday nights for MiLB.com.
It’s a pretty easy drive out to Zebulon, which is about an hour ESE of Durham (and yes, by ESE, I mean it’s southeast, but more east than it is south)(and by “easy drive,” I mean that I got lost each day and made several haphazard turns–including a right turn from the left lane and a left turn from the right lane)(on the same trip!). Thursday night, since I finished my interview with Jamie Hoffmann of the Jacksonville Suns 1:45 before the game, I had some to time to explore Zebulon and the surrounding area. I also had the pleasure of visiting not one, but two Wal-Marts (and at one of them, I saw the best mullet I’ve seen in years. We’re talking world-class here: a little groomed in the front, way long in the back. Dude was even rockin’ the Bully Ray Cyrus stubble beard. Definitely made me reconsider my decision not to purchase a digital camera for the summer.)
Five County Stadium is itself pretty much in the middle of nowhere. I did drive through what I’m guessing is the “heart” of Zebulon, which lasted about three blocks before it opened up into farmland and trailer-sized houses (I won’t call them trailers because they appeared to be wheel-less). For those three blocks, it looked pretty nice–somewhat reminiscent of the older parts of Belmar I guess (here’s where being inconclusive comes in).
Five County Stadium is uniquely laid out with a very tiny first deck and a much bigger second deck that hangs over it. The bottom level is only five rows deep in most places. I sat in a couple different places Thursday night (despite the premier pitching matchup between Clayton Kershaw and Chris Volstad, the stadium was only about one-third full)(and Tim the scoreboard operator, whom I sat with Wednesday night in the press box [I was the only member of the media], said that was normal for this time of year, with schools yet to be let out. He did, however, express concerns about the possible impact rising gas prices will have on attendance.) before settling in on the third-base side, about three rows back in the bottom deck. All in all, it’s an excellent place to catch a game, especially on a close play at the plate in the fourth (looked like the ump got the “safe” call right).
It was also “Thirsty Thursday,” which meant $1 sodas and beers (10 and 12 oz., respectively). After a pretzel (a little too salty for my taste) and a Sprite in the second, I ventured to the beer stand in the fifth. Here’s the screenplay:
TIM approaches surprisingly line-less beer stand with slight trepidation, contemplating what type of beer they have. Manning the stand is an adolescent male, about 18—the age a lot of people who work at the stadium seem to surround—and a middle-aged woman. The guy seems to tense up as I make my way to the stand.
TIM (as yet unaware that there is more than one option at the stand): I’ll have a…beer.
GUY (turning to woman as if to ask, “What do we do now?”): Umm…
TIM (pulling out a lone dollar bill, and trying to sound more confident this time, and even borderline surprised): Do you need to see ID or something? (TIM wonders what this “or something” could possibly refer to.)
WOMAN (condescendingly): Uhh, yeah.
TIM pulls out his New Jersey’s driver’s license and hands it to WOMAN.
WOMAN: New Jersey, hmm. New Jersey.
TIM smiles, a bit unsure if his Garden State residency is somehow influencing her math.
WOMAN: 1986…is that okay…hmm…
WOMAN looks at hand, which appears to have 1987 written in large black marker.
WOMAN: Yep, you’re clear. What would you like?
TIM sees the extensive options include Miller Lite and Icehouse and…that’s it. He thinks it odd that Icehouse is the second choice.
TIM: I’ll just take a Miller Lite.
GUY pours TIM his $1 Miller Lite.
WOMAN: New Jersey, eh? That’s where them Devils play.
TIM (seeing where this is going): Yep…the ‘Canes have knocked them out of the playoffs a few times.
WOMAN (proudly and a little smugly): Yes we have.
GUY hands TIM his beer, TIM begins to walk away.
WOMAN: But you got yourself a good goalie.
TIM: Yea, sure.
Exeunt TIM.
The screenplay of my purchase of Rainbow Ice Dippin’ Dots (in a Mudcats’ helmet, of course) is much simpler:
TIM: Can I have Rainbow in a helmet?
GIRL: Sure.
And while we’re on the topic of Dippin’ Dots, that’s just one more thing to add to my list of Poor First Impressions. I was so against Dippin’ Dots for years, employing an “If it aint broke, why try to fix it?” mentality to the ice cream market. But what I didn’t realize was that Dippin’ Dots aren’t competing against ice cream (indeed, a couple two rows in front of me had ice cream in a helmet some innings earlier); it’s complementing it. And I’m all for competition.
So yea, this is my summer.
