It was just another ball game.
If you only saw the box score, or the highlights on SportsCenter, that's all you would read or hear about. Just another ball game.
So much so, that only one man in the entire stadium was watching.
Meet Duncan Williams, 33, an advertising sales agent from Cleveland. As an Indians season ticket holder, Duncan has spent every Sunday home game since 1997 in Section 113, Row L, Seat 19 at Jacobs Field.
As a boy, Duncan's father instilled in him a love of baseball. He played little league for a few years, but only developed an average amount of skill. Though he enjoyed the feel of a glove in his head and the dirt underneath his cleats, he was just as happy in the bleachers with a bag of peanuts, watching each player go through his own motions, keeping score in his head. He never kept a score card. That would involve taking his eyes off the game. Duncan couldn't do that. He didn't know how.
On one forgotten Sunday in 2005, Duncan was the only one in Jacobs Field with his eyes on the game. No one else remembers the date or inning, or even the opposing team. Only Duncan remembers every detail of the day that would immortalize him in his own home team's ball park.
In 2006, five of Jacobs Field's concession stands were converted into "Slider's Diners," named after the team mascot and given 1950s nostalgic themes, featuring hand-dipped milk shakes and burgers with special sauce. I did not have the pleasure of conceding from Slider's Diner when I went to an Indians game in May, as I was one of about 20 people sitting in the entire upper deck. That could not, however, keep me from noticing the panoramic photo above the awning.
Look closely. No two people are looking in the same direction.
Only Duncan is watching the action on the playing field, making a triumphant fist and letting out a mildly enthusiastic "Yeah" to himself.
How can everyone in two entire rows of a ball park each be looking at something different? Surely any nearby occurrances that are taking each person's attention away from a play, which I can only assume is in the Tribe's favor, judging from Duncan's smile and fist pump, must be something extra special.
The following is a rare, omniscient glimpse into the streams of consciousness of Rows K and L of Section 113, that fateful day when Duncan Williams became the only man left who still cared about baseball.
"Oh jeez. Oh jeez oh jeez oh jeez. All I wanted to do was impress Kelly by going to a baseball game with her family. I begged mom to take me to the mall so I could get an Indians American League Champion T-shirt, one size too big because all the cool kids at St. Mary's wear baggy stuff on casual days. Now there's a giant pink muppet whose name I don't even know shooting hot dogs at me witha hot dog bazooka, and I don't know if I even know how to catch with this stupid glove I borrowed from my little brother's closet! Oh jeez. Can a high-velocity hot dog break my nose? I can't let that happen! I have those Lord of the Rings movies to shoot next week. Oh jeez. I hope Kelly can't see the look on my face right now."
"Mph! /gasp Daddy. These peanuts are too big. I can barely feel if I even have a tongue anymore, because this peanut is taking up too much room in my mouth. It's, like, pushing my entire digestive system to the back of my throat and now I can bearly ... even ... brea"
"Over a little more ... just a little to the right ... now back a few steps...
YES! I'm crushing your head usher on the other side of the stadium!"
"Almost ... there ... this going to the game idea was brilliant, baby. I almost got her. No tolerance policies for adoption by people with criminal records be damned. Once she leans back, she'll be within reach, and our dream of being a real family will finally come true."
"What? Sorry honey, I wasn't really listening. I was too busy looking at everybody's ass in the bullpen.
"That was not a flirtsy joke to make you faux-jealous. I have actually brought my camera to the stadium to stare at men's butts and choose which one I'm going to walk toward when I go to the bathroom next inning and mysteriously never come back."
"Ugh, I don't know how long I can hold this polite grin. I've been holding my hands like this for hours and I still don't even see anyone handing out the Body of Albert Pujols at all."
"..."
"..."
"Hey."
:)
"On the night before he went onto the DL, Albert Pujols took the hot dog, said the blessing, diced it and gave it to his teammates, saying
"I'M HAVING A HEART ATTACAKLJLDKFANSDG MRTr"
"Well if he's about to buy the farm, I'm going to grab his popcorn on the way down.
"Any second now.
"Hm. Maybe if I blow on him he'll fall over with his arm outstretched a little more quickly."
"OK OK OK OK NOW YOU WATCH IT'S GON BE 33 THOUSUN
33 THOUSUN PEOPLE AT THE BALL PARK TODAY
THAT'S THE RIGHT ANS—
NOPE, NOPE, NOPE, THAT AIN'T THE RIGHT ANSWER
ALL RIGHT ALL RIGHT ALL RIGHT NOW WATCH IT'S GON BE 29 THOUSUN
TWINNY-NIIIIIIINE THOUSUN"
"Oh, therrrre. Now I can see it fine! All those bright, primary colors do a number on my cataracts, wouldn't ya know it. Oh, I see now. It's a base ball cup! Ohhh, how clever."
"Check it out I'm going to eat this dog through my tracheotomy hole."
"You got it, dude."
"Sir, I'm going to have to search this bag of peanuts for any traces of drugs or concealed weaponry."
"Oh of course, officer. This ain't racial profiling at all! You did search all up in fat old Kids in the Hall Flounder-lookin' motherfucker over there, right?
"Ut, now listen to me. Of course you did."
"Haha, hey
Hey check out that guy walkin' around on the upper deck! Watch him walk a little
Keep watchin'
Wait for iiiit
NOW"
"Hahahahahaha did you see that
Look
Look he got hit on the head by a giant baseball man!
Ha-haahhhh"
"OMIGOD OMIGOD WE'RE ON THE SCRAIN! NICKY! NI
NICKY! STAND UP SO YOU CAN GIT ON THE BIG SCRAIN! THIS IS MY BABY NICKY EVERYBODY! HE'S 84 MONTHS OLD AN' IS THE BEST SPELLER IN HIS ENTIRE CLASS! NICKY STAND UP!"
"Mommy's acting crazy again, Popcorn Head. She always acts this way when she drinks at the game. Now I'm afraid to drive home with her. Maybe I can 'accidentally' grab somebody else's hand on the way out and scream until the cops find me. Oh, but your head smells so good. I'm glad we're friends. "
"Oh shit it's getting windy. If my date finds out I stapled a wig to the inside of my hat, I'm going home alone tonight."
"AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHA WHY DID I DECIDE TO BE THE DORK WHO BROUGHT BINOCULARS TO A BASEBALL GAME
OH NO THE LITTLE BALL PLAYERS LOOK LIKE ANTS FROM UP HERE
THE MALE BASEBALL PLAYER HAS THE ABILITY TO BLEND INTO HIS SURROUNDINGS AT WILL WHAT EVER SHALL I DO"
"A DEER"
"WHAT"
"A FEMALE DEER"
"YOU WANT ME TO DO A DEER
LADY I DO NOT NEED BINOCULARS TO SEE THAT THAT IS FUCKED UP
HAHA, SEE"
"Boy, this night out with you two girls sure is getting exciting!
Baseball! A truly wonderful location for a hot night! /yawn"
"I thought you said you loved baseball!"
"Yeah, fun little trick I like to call Reading Enough Of Your MySpace Profile To Fake Enough Common Interest In Things To Clinch Removal of P
shit /claps hand against mouth"
"Who's gonna win da bess boll gim? Call me now babies and find out for yarself. De cards don't lie!"
"You fixed your baseball diamond up real nice, Gloria."
"Oh grit Full House jokes is da new Zelda jokes."
"Come on, look alive out there!
Let's go Tribe! Let's go ... Tribe!
... Let's ..."
"Hey. Is ... is anybody else watching the game?
I mean, I see them looking around and smiling and getting excited about things. And there's a lot to get excited about at a ball park like this. They've added all sorts of sights and even a play area for kids. It's really an amazing place to come spend the day.
But have they forgotten about the baseball game going on in that big, grassy hole in the middle of the place?
Getting people back to the ball park must be difficult. Some people think things haven't been the same since the strike. Others have been turned off by the steroid scandal.
Getting people to like baseball again must be difficult. Getting the whole family to come to a game even moreso. So they take these photos of people having fun at a ball game. Exaggerated amounts of fun, from as eclectic a group of people as they can find. People of all ages and colors and eyesights. And they tell them to just look like they're excited and having fun! Not that other fun things at a ball game are bad, but they take a photo like this, with everybody looking in amazement at all different angles, that they must hav ejust overlooked having them all look at where the game is supposed to be happening.
So they all end up looking ridiculously excited about a whole shitload of different things happening at the same time. And nobody seems to have their eye on the ball. That's one of the most basic fundamentals of what they're there for in the first place. Keep your eye on the ball. Root for the home team. Three strikes, you're out. Who needs a play area in a ball park, when you could be teaching your kids your favorite game?
Hell, you could even teach them how to pay attention and keep their eye on the ball. I know I wouldn't want to blink and miss it. That happens often enough in life.
Come on, guys. Look alive out there."
