Another bright and early day;
my goal was to be on airport property at 7 for a 9:14 departure, and I succeeded.
I was able to find a partly-shaded spot near the shuttle drop, and was
in the terminal in just a few moments. The flights were mostly uneventful,
with the exception that I had both seats on the longer leg of the journey
to myself, which was kind of nice. On the second flight I glanced out the
window and immediately identified Indianapolis by the sweeping curve of
I-465; I was also able to pick out the Speedway and several other points
of interest only to me and my immediate family (I used to live there if
you hadn't figured that out already). Then I was in Dayton.
Whee. I'm in Dayton. ;)
I shouldn't be that way; it's the birthplace of flight, besides being a pleasant little burg. When I arrived at my hotel I carried four Tuesday newspapers from four different cities spaced over a thousand miles apart. All thanks to Dayton and the miracle of flight.
I got lucky on the rental
car as well; they gave me a Pontiac Sunfire, which is a good little car
in it's own right but is also one of the few smaller cars in which I fit
nicely. Bonus. I hopped in and headed for... drum roll... Cincinnati! Some
nasty traffic snarls on the way but maybe they allowed me to miss the worst
of downtown rush hour. I found the hotel on only the second pass-- not
bad for a newbie.
The original plan was to check in, rest a bit, then walk down to the game. The traffic put a hole in that idea-- no time to rest, but at least I wasn't hungry. However, the walk was a bit further than I had approximated; I was thinking it was about a half mile, I think it was closer to a mile-and-a-half or so. But I made it okay.
As I passed the ticket takers, I got a bit
swept up in the moment-- I didn't *quite* have tears in my eyes, but if
they had come, I wouldn't have fought 'em. :) I had great seats since
I had ordered them a couple of months in advance, behind home plate at field
level and seventeen rows back.
Riverfront Stadium (with all due apologies
to the nice people powering my laptop at this moment, I will *never* call
it "Cinergy Field") is surprisingly intimate. I'm guessing it holds between
70-90,000 fans, roughly the capacity of the Swamp, but the seats are all
chairbacks so the scale is considerably larger. The
top level is entirely ringed by
banks of lights and there were few dark spots
in the arena.
Whee. I'm in Dayton. ;)
I shouldn't be that way; it's the birthplace of flight, besides being a pleasant little burg. When I arrived at my hotel I carried four Tuesday newspapers from four different cities spaced over a thousand miles apart. All thanks to Dayton and the miracle of flight.
I got lucky on the rental
car as well; they gave me a Pontiac Sunfire, which is a good little car
in it's own right but is also one of the few smaller cars in which I fit
nicely. Bonus. I hopped in and headed for... drum roll... Cincinnati! Some
nasty traffic snarls on the way but maybe they allowed me to miss the worst
of downtown rush hour. I found the hotel on only the second pass-- not
bad for a newbie. The original plan was to check in, rest a bit, then walk down to the game. The traffic put a hole in that idea-- no time to rest, but at least I wasn't hungry. However, the walk was a bit further than I had approximated; I was thinking it was about a half mile, I think it was closer to a mile-and-a-half or so. But I made it okay.
As I passed the ticket takers, I got a bit
swept up in the moment-- I didn't *quite* have tears in my eyes, but if
they had come, I wouldn't have fought 'em. :) I had great seats since
I had ordered them a couple of months in advance, behind home plate at field
level and seventeen rows back. 
Riverfront Stadium (with all due apologies
to the nice people powering my laptop at this moment, I will *never* call
it "Cinergy Field") is surprisingly intimate. I'm guessing it holds between
70-90,000 fans, roughly the capacity of the Swamp, but the seats are all
chairbacks so the scale is considerably larger. The
top level is entirely ringed by
banks of lights and there were few dark spots
in the arena. 
This is Riverfront's last season, as the Great
American Ballpark is being constructed next door. In fact, about a quarter
of Riverfront's doughnut shape has been removed to make way for the construction
of the new park, which intrudes like an uninvited guest at a party, and
serves as a constant reminder of Riverfront's mortality. At one point the
two parks are only about 26 inches distant. I think it would be a nice
gesture if they actually touched. 
Riverfront has been a part of my life,
though this was my first visit. The baseball dreams that I like to think
every little boy has, lived for me in this stadium, wearing the shapes
of Johnny Bench and Joe Morgan and Pete Rose and Tony Perez and Don Gullett
and Jack Billingham and Sparky Anderson and dozens more gears in the Big
Red Machine. In a simpler time of baseball, when it was a game and not an industry, when the bottom line meant "games won" instead of revenue, when a player's loyalty to a team didn't mean he would be fiscally punished in the next years' salary inflation, choices were black-and-white: the Reds were the oldest team in baseball, heroes akin to the Arthurian legends; while the Pirates, Phillies, Dodgers, and (Heaven preserve us) Oakland A's were evil incarnate.
Tonight, though, one of my most stirring and saddening realizations was that I was less than a hundred meters from more money than probably all of Gainesville has.
Enough of that, I didn't mean to go all
preachy. I had a blast. The Reds routed the hapless Dodgers 12-4; a meaningless
game since division leader St. Louis also won their battle with the Florida
Marlins. Fireworks are lit every time a Red hits a homer, and there were
lots of fireworks tonight. A local brand of Polish sausage was an excellent
mid-game snack, and they had Skyline Chili there (which I didn't notice
until I left, but now anticipate for tomorrow's game :)I found a cab for the trip home-- cost $7 including tip, which is less than it would have cost to park near the game, not counting time and effort and gas and fighting traffic. Deal. :)
Tomorrow: Indianapolis!