
photo: dotpolka
The Flying Squirrels are in the midst of their second series of the season in Altoona, with two games down and one more to go this afternoon. In a lot of leagues, you'd be right to expect we wouldn't be seeing more than a couple more meetings with the Curve. Eastern League schedules are different though. The Squirrels will play 53% of their games against just three teams, one of them not even in our division, and play actual divisional title rival Akron just 6 times. It looks pretty spectacularly lopsided for fans used to more traditional head-to-head formats, but it's neither arbitrary nor unfair, and it's a plus for baseball fans. The league is scheduled this way thanks to simple economics, player comfort, and the nature of AA baseball. Here's how it works, and why it's a good thing.
The Schedule

Out of 142 games, about 60% will be against other Western Division teams. Just two teams, Bowie and Altoona, account for a whopping 38.7% of all games Richmond will play this season. As such, a lot of the Squirrels' success will depend on performance against these squads. Add up the five most frequent opponents, Bowie, Altoona, Reading, Erie, and New Britain, and you've accounted for 71% of the season.
Eastern League schedulers are bound by only one requirement when drawing up the plan for the coming season: each team has to visit each opponent for one three-game series. The minimum number of times a pair of league teams can face each other is six. The Flying Squirrels will call in that bare bones requirement with four teams -- Akron, New Hampshire, Portland, and Trenton -- and go just one over for seven against Binghamton.
There's one big factor you might notice about the difference between the teams Richmond meets constantly and those it meets rarely: the teams we face most often are generally the closest as well. Here's the curve fit:
It's no accident that our nearest neighbor, Bowie at 120-ish miles to the northeast, is our most frequent adversary, and two of the furthest teams from Richmond, New Hampshire's Fisher Cats and Portland's Sea Dogs, both see us the league minimum number of times. The median distance of all Eastern League opponents from Richmond is 403 miles, but the median distance of the top three teams from Richmond is just 258 miles.
The reason goes back to the Rule 56 in the MLB Business Rules, the Player Development Contract (PDC). This arrangement governs the relationship between minor league clubs and their parent organizations, and specifies who's responsible for what. Most commonly, the major league club pays the salaries of all players and coaches, and the league pays for umpires and officials. The minor league club itself pays operational expenses like facility upkeep, and critically for our purposes, for staff travel and accommodations. Those are hardly trivial expenses in a league with the sheer geographical extent of ours.

photo: Jeff Werner
I added up the mileage of every trip the Squirrels will have to take over the course of the season between series, and it comes out to a jaw-dropping 9,022 miles, with a mean 273 miles per leg. Let's imagine a single bus cruising comfortably at highway speed can squeak out about 6mpg. That's 1,504 gallons, and with diesel hovering about $3.08 per gallon at this exact second, that adds up to $4,632 just to fuel one bus for one season. Not to mention the bare minimum 167 hours the team would have to spend on buses if they somehow got through a miracle summer of travel with no traffic delays in the crowded Northeast Corridor. Think about how much you like taking long bus trips. Think about bus bathrooms. Go on, just think about it for a second.
It's clearly to the Flying Squirrels organization's advantage to be scheduled in such a way that there are relatively few long hauls between series, in terms of money and in terms of player sanity.
Doesn't it skew the competitiveness of the league though, that inevitably some teams will wind up closer to the best teams and the furthest from the worst? Well, yes, but it's not really a bad thing, and the situation on the ground can change rapidly. Compared to major league clubs, each roster slot on a AA club is much more fungible. Callups, demotions, trades, and other major shifts are common and expected, and to some extent at the mercy of the major league affiliate. And don't forget either that despite being in the upper rungs of the minor leagues, AA baseball is still an instructional league where players are still learning professional baseball skills.
Given these factors, each team can go through significant shifts from month to month and even series to series, becoming better, worse, and different as quickly as the weather changes.
Why It's a Good Thing

The cringe-inducing wasteland of Altoona, Pennsylvania. Photo: gocyclones
As a baseball fan, I'm excited about this kind of scheduling, because it bolsters two of the best features of sport: aggressive rivalry, and getting to know your opponents intimately. The divisional and league championships still require winning more games than anyone else, and we know exactly who we have to steamroll to crank out wins. It doesn't matter that they're in different divisions. Fans still have incentive to become excruciatingly familiar with the outfits we play the most, and that makes for a lot of fun. I expect to develop a reflexive and innate loathing for the Baysox to the point where I'll be slightly physically ill when I hear the word "bay" in isolation. I plan on finding piles of ways to mock the horrifying (pleasant, in reality) city of Altoona and their (pretty good, actually) horrible squad of monster-people they call the Curve. I will relish this.
The unbalanced Eastern League schedule is a feature, not a bug. We've got a great season of Flying Squirrels baseball to look forward to, and we're lucky that so much of it is happening so close to home.
What can be done to fix The Diamond’s concession lines?
By Taber on April 19, 2010
Even with the great overall atmosphere at the park, the great baseball, and the death-defying antics of the supernaturally energetic and excitable Nutzy, the one thing everyone's mentioned when I've talked to them about their first visit to The Diamond is the long wait for ballpark food. My own party skipped supper to make the 6:35pm start of Saturday’s game, figuring ballpark food and beer would be a treat. However, we quickly realized people around us needed several innings of time to return with air-conditioned room temperature Bud Lights and naked hot dogs, and the only vendors we saw were hawking $5 cotton candy, hardly a solution for famished grown-ups. We wound up leaving the park before the game ended and cooking pork chops at home. At 9:30pm. No way is this what the team’s front office had in mind.
People are paying their way into this park to watch baseball, and it's hugely frustrating for fans to miss a lot of baseball just to keep from being thirsty and hungry. Boulevardizen suggests pregaming, but I'd think the front office would like to improve matters at the park to the point where fans won't have to either eat beforehand or bring along a DLW (Designated Line-Waiter) to catch the baseball they want to see. They've told the RTD they're aware it's bogus, and they're working on it, which is a relief.
If I may, though, here are my suggestions for getting this under control so I never have to bust out a skillet at home after an abbreviated Saturday trip to the ballpark again:
photo: RW PhotoBug
More vendors in the aisles with more products. In our lower level 3rd base side section on Saturday, we didn't see a single vendor until the 5th inning, and our excitement at seeing a person selling things we could eat coming down the stairs was quickly deflated when we saw she only had cotton candy, the least food-like non-souvenir item I can imagine.
Being a long-haul sport, the baseball park experience has evolved to maximize fan time with their eyes on the game by sending concessions out into the stands. Hawkers obviously can't carry a large array of items, but they form an important stopgap between trips back into the dank concourses to buy more substantial food and drink.
The team says 15 vendors were walking about on Thursday. Let's have more of those on big attendance nights, and let's arm them with things people want: hot dogs and beer are an excellent start.
More stands, fewer options. This is a tall order for the physical structure of The Diamond, but any more spots where things can be quickly distributed and take the pressure off the full-service concession areas with the full ballpark menu would be extremely welcome.
There was a couple near us Saturday that was loading up on nuts because that was the only food line that wasn't completely impenetrable. When orders are easier to fill, they get taken care of more quickly. Let's see if we can't have more things like the Beer Express lines and the nut stands to connect fans with food in the concourses more efficiently.
Quicker, more novel ways to pay. Cash handling and card authorizations can take a serious bite into the time workers have to fill orders. Group packages include chances to purchase "Acorn Dollars," a kind of Diamond-only currency that fans can use at concession outlets and the team store. Could it improve transaction time if fans could pay in advance for a package of tickets that were directly exchangeable one-to-one for certain popular items?
Here I'm thinking that, if you gave me the opportunity, I would happily buy a $20 single game lower level ticket that included the price of an undiscounted beer and hot dog. I would also definitely take advantage of a program that sold packages of tickets for stadium items at a slight discount, say $55 for 10 bottle beers or $75 for 10 drafts (a regular price bottled Budweiser is $6, a big draft is $8).
There's no change or receipting at the time of the transaction with such a scheme, and fans would be able to get their payment out of the way and out of their head before the game even started rather than constantly waiting for the credit card machines to grind through authorizations across the ether. You've built in incentive for package buyers to come back to the park again and use their tickets, and the club scores bonus revenue if people forget to cash in all the tickets they've bought. Good deal, no?
Can we order delivery? A promotional game for Ledo Pizza at Saturday's game actually got me wondering about this. The way the game worked was, they pulled pairs of kids out of the stands and had each pair represent a side of the park, either 1st Base or 3rd Base. They got one of the kids dizzy and had him try to toss frisbees into a pizza box held by his partner. The one that caught the most frisbees won pizza delivery for their side of the park.
As hungry as we were at this point, I don't think anything has ever sounded more delicious in my life. I watched the kids toss frisbees with an unreasonable degree of urgency, thinking "c'mon, c'mon, please let it be us, there's no food and we want to eat, pizza PLEEEASE." Which makes me wonder, if we can get pizza delivered to our houses by making phone calls, couldn't we use our phones in the stands to call in orders for seat delivery?
I don't know if there's any precedent for that, but it would be an awesome perk the team could charge serious premiums to provide. Heck, while I'm dreaming, give Pizza Hut the concession and let people use their awesome iPhone app to get pies to hungry fans.
I'm really thrilled as a fan that the masses are coming to The Diamond again, but to keep them coming back, the experience at concessions needs to be as smooth and friendly as it possibly can be at our aging park. I know a lot of you made it out this weekend -- what else would you do to fix the food problems at the park?
Squirrels addressing long concession lines [Richmond Times-Dispatch]
A Squirrel's Tale of a Line! [Boulevardizen]
Posted in Commentary | Tagged concessions, food, ideas, lines, park, the diamond