I went to Modesto this past Friday to watch my first Single-A baseball game between the local Modesto Nuts of the Seattle Mariners organization and the San Jose Giants, creatively named after their parent organization, the San Francisco Giants. The environment reminded me of a mid-season high school football game, complete with inexpensive food vendors, large groups from local church and youth sports organizations, and season ticket holders who maintain conversations from several rows away. There are angry dads, town heroes, and four-dollar hot dogs. I adored it.
The local sponsorships were charming. Here’s one I’ll never forget, repeated each time a Nuts pitcher struck out an opposing batter:
This strikeout is brought to you by Aspire Public Schools. Don’t strike out on your education; enroll in Aspire Public Schools todayyyyy.
Another, when a Nuts batter walked:
Nice take! Donatello’s Take and Bake!
I purchased a hat with one of their mascots, Wally the Walnut, on the front.
I heard good-hearted banter about the players and a couple of mean-spirited comments from fans directed towards the umpires that led to a guy in front of me nearly being ejected. Instead, the umpire thought the chirping was coming from a bench, and one of the Nuts’ coaches got tossed.
I kept score as usual. Heading towards the gate after the game, I saw a small group of kids against the fence along the left field line where the Giants players were walking. A six-foot-seven-inch Bryce Eldridge, the top pick by the Giants in the 2023 draft, towered over them. I walked over on a whim and, once all the kids had balls autographed and selfies secured, asked him to sign the scorecard along his batting line.
As with many experiences this past year, I regret not jumping at the opportunity earlier. I had immense fun watching baseball in such a casual environment, with each part driven by the community. I’m eager to return to Modesto and visit San Jose to see the Giants play at home. Minor League Baseball reminds me of my time playing in town ball leagues around Minnesota at the end of high school, and it more appropriately embodies what baseball can mean to a city. It sends me back to the nostalgic times I never experienced when baseball was the country’s pastime.