Buy Me Some Peanuts And Crackerjack...

One manifestation of my Americanophilia is a passion for baseball. Normally following the game takes a certain degree of commitment. To watch a game live I have to be prepared to stay up until 1 in the morning - and even then, I only get the first pitch! Being in America, and in particular in large East Coast cities, however, gives me a much greater chance to watch some games.

Taking in a ballgame is a quintessential American experience, highly recommended even to those who have little or no interest in the game. The atmosphere is mild in terms of many British sporting events - a good analogy is to watching a professional cricket game. The action is somewhat sedate for most of the time, and from the spectator's point of view, while the game may be a central part of the experience, it is by no means the only feature.

Nevertheless, there is much about the entertainment on offer at a ballgame that would be totally alien to British sports fans. For starters, most of the chants are led over the public announcement system, with pre-recorded tunes, songs or claps designed to elicit support at key moments. There is also a concerted effort to fill in every possible moment of downtime with something to hold people's attention. Often, this is simply a chance to sell advertising space, with trivia quizzes filling up the electronic scoreboards, displayed under prominent adverts for beer, cell phones or fast food.

Other segments seem highly incongruous. The New York Mets, for example, run a segment called the 'Jose Reyes Spanish Academy' (Reyes is one of the Mets' star players, and hails from the Dominican Republic). Thanks to that I know how to say I need a napkin (necessito una servilleta, since you ask), but why there is a need for such entertainment in what is ultimately quite a short break somewhat defeats me. Then again, I suppose laughing at stupid people's attempts to pronounce a foreign language is an easy way of getting a few cheap laughs.

Each team has their own traditions. The New York Mets, for example, sing 'Sweet Caroline' in the 8th inning; the New York Yankees' groundkeepers come out and dance to YMCA at the end of the 6th. My favourite piece of entertainment, though, was the Washington Nationals' President's Race, where figures dressed up as Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt race the length of the first base line. A running joke is the failure of Roosevelt to win, despite attempting to cheat through various means such as zip-lining into the stadium or using a golf cart. It was a fun experience to be able to root for Jefferson, although sadly he was beaten to the line by Washington.

As of Thursday, I'd managed to get to four matches - three major-league games, and one minor league one. The latter was a very different experience to the first three; the ballpark, for starters, was much smaller, thus guaranteeing a better view, and the players seemed to have a much closer connection with the fans. The minor leagues exist more or less solely for the purpose of training players up to reach the major leagues; as a result they are generally situated in smaller towns, and rely for their support on the building of a rapport between players and fans (and the promise of watching stars before they become famous).

The match I went to was the Brooklyn Cyclones playing host to the Auburn Doubledays. Brooklyn is almost certainly one of the best places to catch a Minor League Baseball game, being a city with a strong baseball history. The Brooklyn Dodgers were the team of Jackie Robinson, the first black player to play in the major leagues; the captain of the team that season, Pee Wee Reese, is credited with going a long way to ease the transition. When playing in Cincinnati, Robinson faced a barrage of racial insults while warming up. Reese, without saying a word, walked over to Robinson and placed his arm around him, staring all the while at the hate-filled crowd in front of him. It is a justly celebrated moment, and commemorated in a statue outside the Cyclones' park.

The Dodgers left Brooklyn in 1958, and it was not until 2001 that professional baseball found its way back to the borough. The franchise has clearly placed a lot of effort in linking the team to the Dodgers (to the extent of basing their emblem very clearly on that of the Brooklyn cap), and has built up a loyal fan base, leading to a festive, friendly atmosphere there on Sunday afternoon.

Abner Doubleday, after whom Auburn are named, is credited as being responsible for two momentous occasions in American history - inventing the game of baseball, and firing the first shots of the Civil War in defence of Fort Sumter. Historically, he only achieved the latter, but has almost certainly received greater fame for the former 'achievement'. Sadly for his legacy, the team that now bears his name did not cover themselves in glory on Sunday. Despite some remarkably generous decisions from the 1st base umpire, they ended up losing 4-2 to the Cyclones.

The three major league stadia I visited on my tour will no longer be in existence in 2009. Shea Stadium, home to the Mets, is situated in the borough of Queens, right next door to the Flushing Meadow complex, and in Corona Park, previously host to two Worlds Fairs. The replacement stadium is already being constructed right next door, and is based on the design of Ebbets Field, the home of the Brooklyn Dodgers. This represents a tendency for teams to build more compact stadia (normally with increased numbers of luxury boxes and reduced numbers of cheap seats), as it is thought fans prefer to be closer to the action.

That said, Shea puts many English stadia to shame - including many constructed far more recently. As in all the ballparks I visited, the highest seats are built at a very steep incline so every gets an unimpeded view of the field, and the seats tend to be spacious and as comfortable as can be expected from plastic. The game itself ended up being very exciting - Mets pitcher Tom Glavine (who had recently passed the career landmark of his 300th win) gave an excellent display, only to see his good work wasted through questionable team management and some appalling displays of pitching. The game was also notable for the two home runs hit by home town hero David Wright, which resulted in the lighting up of a Big Apple. Sadly Florida, the visiting team escaped with the victory.

Then on Monday, my hostel put on a special trip to a Yankees game against the Baltimore Orioles. The group I was with was multinational, and ranged from the baseball fanatics to those who were just curious for the experience - I watched the game explaining the vagaries of the rules to two German teachers. I must confess to never having had much time for the Yankees - they are very much the Manchester United or Chelsea of baseball, determined to buy their success through the purchase of the top free agents, and basically stealing everyone else's best players. Further proof of their evil ways is the design of their new stadium - built to exactly the same specifications as the old one, only with 3,000 fewer seats. Squeeze every last drop...

The atmosphere there, however, was quite unlike any other I have experienced at a baseball game. The stadium was all but sold out; and the fans exhibited a great passion for their team - showing spontaneous support, and far less reliant on the piped music (though for some inexplicable reason they all start dancing to Cotton Eye Joe in the 8th inning). Those fans who were brave enough to enter the stadium wearing Red Sox caps (the Boston team, and New York's great rivals) found themselves on the receiving end of lively and energetic "Boston sucks" chants. In contrast to a British football match, though, the banter remained good humoured throughout - US sports do not segregate opposing sets of supports, and the atmosphere is much friendlier for it.

The game itself was wacky - seeing several home runs, a couple of pitchers hit by wild pitches, and an array of fielding skills from the sublime to the ridiculous. The Yankees took a lead into the 9th inning, when Mariano Rivera, one of the greatest 'closers' in the history of the game entered. Normally, the game may as well be declared over at this point - yet he surrendered the lead, and so the Yankees went into the bottom of the 9th with the scores level. Despite the pitching of one of my favourite players, Chad Bradford (who throws with a very distinctive style, with his hand all but scraping the ground), the Yankees were able to drive in the run they needed and emerge victorious. What surprised me most was that I actually ended up pleased the Yankees won. What can I say? The atmosphere sucked me in.

Then last night I dragged Richard along to watch the Washington Nationals play the Philadelphia Phillies. At first, we feared it may be an underwhelming experience. The Nationals are new to the city of Washington, and their team is not particularly good - both factors which lead to potential fans largely staying away. We had excellent seats not too far from home plate, though, and a large travelling contingent of Phillies fans meant the stadium felt quite full by the time the game got underway.

I'd picked this game out especially, because Phillies' starting pitcher Cole Hamels is one of the rising stars of the game, and I was looking forward to the chance to watch him in the flesh. Not to mention that I wished to root for the Phillies! Hamels did not disappoint - he lasted for 7 innings without giving up a single run. The relief pitchers (including one who seemed far too large for a professional sportsman) were far more generous, and threatened to surrender the lead, but in the end the Nationals left it just a little bit too late to rally for victory. So although the home fans went away disappointed, the first leg of my baseball-watching finished on a decidedly high note. In addition, Richard seemed to enjoy the experience, too, which was a relief - I had feared he might have wondered why on earth I spent my time engaging in such activities! There was a slight scare on our trip home, when we realised that a spilt drink had soaked my backpack (containing my laptop and essential source of my work on the trip), but thankfully the super-absorbent Washington Post had managed to protect most of the rest of the contents. So with that fear averted, we headed back to our hotel content with the trip, and still buzzing with excitement. I only hope my further baseball experiences are as enjoyable!

I'm currently in Washington, largely to look through some of the collections of the Library of Congress, although making the time for some sightseeing too. I'll check in again over the weekend to keep you up-to-date on goings-on at the Capitol Hill...

So Good They Named It Twice

My first time in New York was a bit of a whirlwind - 30 hours as a weekend break in a research trip to Philadelphia. Despite having longer (a whole week!) this time, much of it was to be spent on research. Thankfully, though, my foray into the Albert Gallatin papers turned out to be swift as well as productive, and I have had three days footloose and fancy-free in the Big Apple.

The advice I was given from an NYC native before my first trip here still stood. Walk around as much as you can, he said. There's so much variety and interest in the city that any attempt to flit around between the main sites just won't give you enough of a sense of the place. Keeping this in mind, I've kept my subway journeys to a minimum, and set out my foot wherever possible.

New York is a surprisingly walkable city. It helps that the bulk of Manhattan is on a grid system, so finding your bearings is not particularly taxing. Even on the southern tip of the island, where streets are less neatly arranged, it doesn't take long to work out where you are. Saturday started with a journey to the Staten Island Ferry complex to meet Richard, followed by a trip to Strand, my favourite bookstore in the entire world (or at least its annex). Why? Firstly its layout, which is gloriously higgledy-piggledy. There's enough grouping for you to work out which subject you're looking at, but the shelves are tightly packed together and piled high. Often there are piles of books on the floor, and it is a wonderful place to idly browse. Not for nothing is its tag-line '18 miles of books'.

The main attraction, though, is the price of the books - pretty much everything in there is at least half-price. When you consider that books in the US are on average cheaper than the equivalent price here (especially given the favourable exchange rate), this represents a huge saving. In addition, the understandable greater availability of books on all tihngs American makes it a real treasure trove for me.

This adventure was followed by a route march that took us under the Brooklyn Bridge, through the vast and sprawling Chinatown, and into Little Italy. I've never been a huge fan of Chinatowns across the world. Many have been highly rated, especially those in Vancouver, San Francisco and Philadelphia, yet they have a generally run-down and shabby feel to them. New York's was little different - if, as you might expect, somewhat large in size. Little Italy, on the other hand, was far more enjoyable. It is somewhat tucked away, but has a festive atmosphere, even if it was a little too busy on Saturday afternoon for our tastes.

My next stop was Shea Stadium, home to the New York Mets, but I will write more about that when I compile my baseball post. The next day, I set off for a stroll through Central Park. Central Park is massive in scale, extending for over 50 blocks through the heart of Manhattan. I decided to walk most of them. Nice at any time (in daylight at least), Sunday is the best day for a visit, as the roads running through the park are closed. This means it is easier to amble, and considerably less noisy. Far enough in, you can close your eyes and forget that you are in one of the biggest and busiest cities in the world. You do have to close your eyes, though, because the framing of skyscrapers does ruin the effect somewhat.

One thing that was interesting was the number of 'soccer' kickarounds that were taking place alongside the more stereotypical softball and football games. I joined in with one family, visiting from North Carolina. It has been interesting to observe the number of football shirts on display in the city. It's obviously unscientific (after all, I may just be running into a large number of tourists), but I've definitely seen more this trip than I ever have previously. That's without counting the large group of Toronto FC fans who turned up at the hostel on Saturday. Who knows, maybe the arrival of David Beckham is having an effect?

My next stop (after walking down Broadway to Times Square, which is one of the most hideously garish places imaginable, although fantastic in its scale) was to Coney Island. Literary fans amongst you may remember the name from The Great Gatsby. Situated at the bottom end of Brooklyn, Coney Island is home to the Cyclone rollercoaster, built in the 1920s and still clattering along its wooden tracks. According to the advertising blurb, it is the most imitated rollercoaster in the world, having 7 replicas across the United States and even Japan.

If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I hope that it only extends as far as the rollercoaster. Astroland, the fun park that inhabits much of the island, has certainly seen better days. Not for nothing is it closing down at the end of the year to undergo an extensive renovation. It needs it. That isn't to say the Island isn't worth a trip - it is also home to the New York Aquarium, and a vast expanse of beach with a lively boardwalk. Of course, I probably wouldn't have visited at all were it not for the presence of the Brooklyn Cyclones, a minor league baseball team. But more on that later.

Today again started with a trip down to the southern tip of Manhattan, this time to see Federal Hall. Located on Wall Street (so called because it used to be the site of a wall marking the northern boundary of New York), the location played host to some important moments in colonial and revolutionary history. In the 1730s, it was the scene of the Zenger trial, an important landmark in paving the way for a free press. The real reason I turned up, however, was because it was the seat of the United States government for the first year of its existence under the Constitution.

The original building no longer stands, but it was the site of Washington's inauguration (one of the exhibits is the Bible on which he was sworn in), and, indeed, a mammoth statue of the man stands outside - in full view of the New York Stock Exchange. One wonders how proud Alexander Hamilton, Washington's Secretary of the Treasury, would have been to see the economic strength of the USA now. More interesting, perhaps, is the fact that it was in New York that the Bill of Rights was passed through Congress before being sent to the separate states for ratification.

My revolutionary interests sufficiently indulged, I then took a stroll up Broadway, past City Hall, and into Greenwich Village. Most of my time was spent wandering around the buildings that make up the campus of New York University, founded in the 1830s by Albert Gallatin (you may remember him from such paragraphs as the first). The highlight was probably Washington Square Park, again dominated by statues of Washington, one as statesman, one as a general.

Greenwich Village as a whole has a different feel from much of the rest of downtown Manhattan - not only does it have a countercultural history (there is a significant gay presence in the area, and was the location of the Stonewall riots), but it has fewer high-rise buildings and perhaps as a result feels less busy. From there I wandered on to Union Square, overlooked by the grave figure of Abraham Lincoln. One thing that makes New York such a pleasant city is that it is very easy to walk everywhere, but the streets are frequently interspersed with parks and other greenery. Too many buildings would feel oppressive, given the general pace of the city.

And so tomorrow I head down to the District of Columbia, largely to visit the Library of Congress, but also a chance to get to the Smithsonian and Capitol Hill. I'll miss New York, and there's still an awful lot that I've yet to see here. Then again, it gives me an incentive for a return visit. The hostel is not the most exciting in the world, but then again it is secure and in a convenient location. It does have a lot of the gadgetry that perhaps typifies America, though. Of all the tasks that I've wished there could be robotic assistance for, pulling a towel from a holder is not one of them. Yet the bathrooms in this hostel have an electronic sensor to save you from any unnecessary exertions. Who knows, maybe it's saved me from getting my finger jammed? I'll write another missive on my mini-ballpark tour soon, but until then, I hope you are all keeping well.