Scared Inside The Stadium

It was October 2005 and soon my marriage would fall apart. I was in between blood pressure medications and those who can relate no that you often feel as if you are going to pass out and that you may in fact die. In fact, you can often get so used to that feeling as the norm, that you don’t really care if you live or die.

My son was treating me to a Yankees-Angels playoff game and we were headed north to Angels Stadium. It was October, but the Indian summer day was hot and sultry. The Yankees had won game one of the best of five series and if they could win game two, they would take a commanding lead.

Scott, as usual had purchased primo seats. Apparently, an Angels fan who was giving up on his Angels had sold his tickets this evening and his loss (he was paid well though) was our gain.

It started right way and it didn’t feel good. A sea of red Angels fans were in our box when we arrived.

What the hell are you doing here?

It was going to be like that. One Angels fan gray haired and mouthy, demanded to know how we got our seats. He wasn’t annoyed. He was livid and he was drinking.

Apparently, the Angel fan who had provided us with entrée was someone named Pete.
Did Pete give you these tickets?
Who is Pete?
These are Pete’s seats.
Not tonight they’re not.
Pete would never have given up his seats like this.
We got news for you, your loyal friend Pete sold you out tonight. Now give it a rest.

But he didn’t and he was becoming a problem.

I didn’t feel good as it was and now I wondered if this evening was going to provide both a game and a fight.

Some guys just have outside radar for this. You sense trouble just before trouble becomes trouble.

This glimpse of the future is your warning device. You have 10 seconds before detonation.

I looked around. Wall to wall Angels fans. Most weren’t snarling like Pete’s friend, but who knows what makes vicious dogs go from barking to biting?

Now, Angel Redneck had Pete on the phone.

Pete, what the hell were you thinking, man?

As Redneck spoke, he punctuated his points with a beer bottle. A bottle of real glass! How did these guys get bottles of glass. I stole a glance of the pack. They were all holding glass bottles.

What would it take for them to go from Bottle Bullies to attack mode?

Maybe it was just a signal needed from their leader.

I turned to Redneck. He was just completing his conversation with Pete.

It seemed to me that Redneck was still agitated, but maybe a bit less than before.

Before he could speak, a lady in the pack of angel animals had something to say,

Sit down, Charley and shut up. So Pete sold his tickets. So what? We will deal with him later. These guys are Yankee fans. So what? Let’s just watch the game and have fun.

All the air and redness had left Redneck’s face. He actually looked well, normal.

The crisis, for now, had been dodged.

I looked over to Angel Lady and smiled. It seemed that she smiled back, but no, she was actually whispering something to me.

We are going to kick your ass!

Fast forward to another stadium in another season.

Paramedic Bryan Stow sensed he was in trouble among Dodger dogs.

He texted his concern to family and friends.

Police released the partial text and said that Stow texted
He was scared inside the stadium

It should never have happened.

Bryan sensed the same danger that Scott and I did that October night a few seasons earlier.

Unfortunately for Bryan, his pack of dogs did attack.

Apparently, he was attacked from behind and beaten senseless. Reports are that he has brain damage. Brain Damage! At a baseball game?

This attack was apparently witnessed by 100 Dodger cowards who as of now still have not come forward.

I hope their sense of morality and what’s right leads them to look inside their heart and do the right thing.

My venom is directed to the Los Angeles Dodgers. They acted as if this incident was isolated and they had no intention of letting a little brain damage get in the way of a rousing successful opening day.

Shame on them!

Frank McCourt, owner of the Dodgers, undercapitalized to begin from and now bleeding dollars due to a nasty divorce, went into defense mode and took little immediate action.

It was due to a lack of security within his property that this happened in the first place.

In recent days. McCourt realizes he looks like an ass and has hired a former police commissioner to head up an investigative team.

Too little. Too late!

Hopefully, the other 29 MLB franchises will take notice and make certain that all fans never have reason to be scared inside the stadium.

For baseball fans everywhere, I have this non-test message.

We come to the stadium to root for our team. We will continue to boo and hiss others that don’t share our passion for our teams. We don’t cross the line. Team loyalty never and I repeat NEVER means escalating good fun to violence.

One would think all human beings have the sense to act accordingly.

Unfortunately, our society produces those who are not human beings.

Right now, we are searching for those animals.

We will find them, prosecute and make them pay for their brutal attack.

For Bryan, we can only give with our heart and our wallets. What was done to him might be permanent damage and we can only hope for his recovery.

I love baseball.

I want to feel that we all are safe when we go see a game.

And I know all baseball fans feel the same.

If you saw something on opening night at Dodger Stadium, you owe it to the game you love, to step forward and share what you saw.

Look inside your heart.

And Bryan, we are pulling for you. Rally, recover and come back to us 100%.
And I hope your team, defending champions, San Francisco Giants, end up in last place.

Go Padres!