Red Sox Sold Out in London
Yes, the two games were sold out, but that’s not what I mean. Whoever was responsible for what 60,000 people saw and heard on the Jumbotron and heard on the P.A. system, and whoever priced the tickets . . . whoever was ultimately responsible for all that really did a poor job for many of us who flew thousands of miles to attend the two events.
Our seats for the first game offered proof once and for all that baseball should never be played in a soccer stadium. We were so far from the action, I was unable to see the ball. Try guessing what just happened from the way players were running around on the field.
Our seats for the second game were probably 150 feet from home plate, but at ground level. Among other things, that meant we were unable to see any ball hit on the ground. About halfway from our seats to the first base line, a dark black mesh netting had been hung to protect fans in those seats from foul balls. But from where we sat, another 50 05 60 feet farther away, it helped to obscure our view of the diamond. There was a work area between us and that netting where people with business on the field assembled. Most of the time they crouched or stayed in an area that didn’t block our view.
Those seats cost $431 . . . each!
Almost as bad, throughout the two games we were forced to endure deafening sound effects whenever there was even a very brief lull in the action: rhythmic banging and clapping, animations whirling on the Jumbotron. The public address announcer delivered every announcement, no matter how mundane, in a manner that fairly crackled with excitement. The only time there wasn’t a raucous sound effect or someone bellowing an announcement was during some action on the field of play. It was exhausting. It was deafening. Worse, it was insulting.
It’s hard to believe that whoever staged those games has ever been to Fenway Park, where the fans are treated with respect. Boston fans understand The Game. We know what’s happening. We don’t need to be told when it’s time be excited. We are not morons.
Yet that’s the way we were treated here in London under the auspices of Major League Baseball. And you know what really galls me? We were over-charged, too.