Regular readers of our not-so-humble blog know that we have a great deal of respect for a good minor league promotion.

But the Jacksonville Suns may have crossed the line a bit with their “St. Patrick’s Day Eight Months Away” Night, scheduled for this Friday. Not only does this encourage waaaaaayyy too much alcohol consumption (though I suppose that’s the point), there’s this bit of “entertainment” after the game:

The first 3,000 fans will receive green baseball caps identical to those being worn by Suns players on the field! Stick around for a post-game Leprechaun World Wrestling Championship on the field!

Um, what?

Apparently, the Suns will be bringing in a group of little people, dress them up as leprechauns, and let them duke it out in the ring in front of drunk jackasses. Yeah.

To top it off, the club will also be having their “Friday Family Fireworks” in between the game and the wrestling match! So down in Jacksonville, a father that’s way too drunk to drive + the exploitation of little people for moronic enjoyment = good wholesome family fun.

America. Love it or leave it.

P.S. It should also be noted that the Suns are currently running a big contest where all the winner seems to get are four free tickets and food to an upcoming game plus something called a “Bill Engvall Show prize pack“. So this should give you a sense as to the demographic we’re dealing with here.And yes, I am an “east coast elitist”. Recognize.

Regular readers may be aware of my admiration for the PR/Fan Relations departments for minor league clubs. Far more so than at the big league level, these people must go beyond conventional means to attract crowds.

So today, imagine my piqued curiosity when I learned that the Brooklyn Cyclones, the Rookie-ball team for the New York Mets (my team, my borough), will be changing their name for one night only to… The Baracklyn Cyclones.

On Tuesday, June 23rd, the Cyclones will “honor” the President-elect with a day of his own (as if the guy hasn’t been honored already enough by the mass populace. I mean, not to downplay the significance, but… am I the only one who thinks that we’re already thinking about his presidency in the past tense?). The event will feature:

• Alternate red, white, and blue jerseys adorned with the team’s new name
• FREE Barack Obama bobbleheads to the first 2,500 fans in attendance, featuring the President in a Baracklyn Cyclones Jersey
• The Economic Stimulus Package: From 10am on January 20th – Inauguration Day – to midnight on January 23rd, ticket prices for the June 23rd game will be “rolled back” to the Cyclones’ inaugural 2001 season rates: $10 Field Box Seats, $8 Box Seats, $5 Bleacher Seats. Beginning January 24th, tickets will be priced at the regular 2009 rates ($15, $12, $8)
• Universal Health Care: Free Band-Aids to the first 1,000 fans
• Naming Rights: Anyone named Barack gets in for free
• Joe the Plumber special: any plumber named Joe gets two free tickets – one for himself, and one to “spread the wealth” with a friend
• Bi-Partisan Consolation Prize: anyone named McCain or Palin will get a free Bleacher Seat
• A clear-cut Exit Strategy: fans will receive American Flags and discount coupons as they leave the ballpark

Me thinks that the dozens of social conservatives in New York will be none too pleased… But hey, they could just pick up a Barack Bobblehead and go nuts, I suppose (everyone wins!).

The last stop on my minor league road trip was Harrisburg, PA. Somewhere between Harrisburg and my apartment in Somerville, I lost all the notes I’d taken during the game. Well, there goes that, I figured. But earlier today, I was cleaning out my car when I came upon a crumpled scrap of paper lodged under the passenger seat. Behold! It is the very scrap of paper upon which I transcribed my thoughts as the Harrisburg Senators, the Double-A affiliate of the Nationals, handily beat the Reading Phillies. Although, I have to admit that my mind, apparently, was not quite occupied with the action on the field:

I rode 220 from Greensboro to Roanoke, where I picked up the Blue Ridge Parkway for a few miles. Hopped onto 81 and it stopped being scenic not long thereafter. Discovered marvelous, nectar-of-the-gods type eatery called Biscuitville. [Ed. note: according to Biscuitville.com, this delightful portal into otherwordly realms of gastric delight only exists in North Carolina and Virginia. Bosh!]

Before we begin, I just have to say that if it hadn’t been for the Yuengling on tap and the Reading Phillies’ bloodred-and-powder blue unis, there would have been no redeeming value to watching this game.

However, powder blue uniforms are always a welcome sight, especially when paired with deep crimson socks and caps and red and white racing stripes. And for reasons known only to the Philadelphia-based brewery, you can’t get Yeungling in New England, so a tall cold one is a treat to be savored.

So I’d like to give a big shoutout to Philly. Because Harrisburg really, really sucks.

First, there are no signs directing motorists to the ballpark – a first, as far as yours truly is concerned. So after spending eight hours driving to H-burg, I spent another hour just driving around the city looking for the stadium. When I got off the highway to ask directions, I promptly found myself in the ghetto [Ed. note: this probably describes 95% of Harrisburg].

I finally gave up and called the boyfriend, who used Google Maps, which I consider a form of road-trip cheating. Anyway, finally I found Commerce Bank Park. (What kind of name is that anyway? Commerce Bank? That’s like Drinks Bar or Food Restaurant.) It’s located on an island in the middle of the Susquehanna. The island is called City Island and it has a park on it called….City Island Park. [Ed note: At this point, I just gave up.]

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Due to trade deadline craziness, I’m a little late in getting the photos up from this game…sorry about that!

Here’s the entrance to the park. As you can see (if you squint) it was honey night. Saweeeet!

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We found Durham Bulls Athletic Park easily enough and were impressed right off the bat (so to speak). It’s a new, clean, spacious, very professional ballpark—you can really feel that third “A”—with no bumper boats or other pathetic gimmicks. Well, except for the large bull in left field, which will lash its tail, flash its eyes, and let smoke pour from its nostrils whenever the Bulls hit a home run. (Not sure why the bull looks so angry when the home team hits a dinger. Seems like it should be happy?) And yes, if you hit the bull, you win a steak. (Hit the grass on which the bull stands, and you win a salad.)

I was a bit confused as well by the left field wall, which is built to resemble the Green Monster at Fenway, but which is painted dark blue—with a pair of animalistic eyes glaring out—and covered with enormous light blue lettering that reads, “BLUE MONSTER.” Completing the Single White Female effect, they played Sweet Caroline in the 8^th inning. But either the Durham fans weren’t into the Neil Diamond singalong, or knew it was an import from up north, because it received a rather tepid reaction.

Nonetheless, let these not be construed as complaints—because it was an excellent place to watch a ballgame, and not just because 2008 marks the 20^th anniversary of the famous film. Now that the Bulls are the Triple A team of the Tampa Bay Rays, I was eager to get a look at next year’s crop of Evan Longorias.

I’d brought my Baseball America 2008 Prospect Handbook to the park, and we had a good time looking up the players in it as they came up to bat. I made some notes, which are now on a piece of paper somewhere in my car…so I’ll have to get back to you on that.

And apparently, Gary Gaetti is now Durham’s hitting/first base coach. That was pretty cool. We also got to see Morgan Ensberg and Tony Graffanino, both of whom were playing for the opposing team, the Buffalo Bisons.

As my gal pal pointed out, “Buffalo Bisons” is annoyingly ungrammatical (sort of like the Penascola Fishes, the Missoula Mouses, or the Des Moines Deers, all of which I just made up). She’s smart like that. For my part, it took me several seconds of pondering to figure out why the Buffalo team had chosen to call itself “the Bisons” at all. Go figure.

Alas, the Herd jumped out to an early lead, and held it, despite a late-game rally by the Bulls. This ended my streak of watching the home team win. I bought a couple of t-shirts in the gift shop, and we departed.

Right now, I need some coffee, and then to get back on the road again. Later tonight, of course, there will be photos from the Bulls game and a rundown of last night’s adventure, the Harrisburg Senators game. I’m sorry I’m falling behind! But it’s hard to type and drive at the same time.

Hey there, team. I’m at some craptastic Econolodge in Nowheresville, PA, right off of 81. The wifi only works in the lobby, so I’m going to throw these pictures up and then go hide out in my strange-smelling room. (Is it a bad sign if the scent of the room sort of stings my eyeballs? I guess I should just take out my contacts and suck it up.)

Ernie Shore Field, in Winston-Salem:

Great stories about Ernie Shore, but since time is short, I’ll let Wikipedia tell you.

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GREENSBORO, NC – First, I’ll tackle the brief account of how I got down here. Then I’ll fill you in on last night’s Warthogs-Hillcats game. If you’re not interested in the travelogue, I won’t be offended if you just skip several paragraphs. In fact, I won’t even know!

On Sunday, I left Lancaster, PA and drove south on US 30, which is also known as the Lincoln Highway. It was America’s first cross-country route, but like many of the two-lane highways, fell into a state of disuse and disrepair with the rise of the big interstates. US 50 (“The Loneliest Road in America”), Route 66 (“The Mother Road” or “Main Street USA”), US 20 (originally the Oregon Trail), US 83 (“The Road to Nowhere”), US 61 (the Blues Highway)—all have been variously subsumed by strip malls or neglected, depending on which section of road you’re on and the disposable income of the local population.

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So the X-Files movie comes out on Friday, and I can’t help but wonder: will Mulder and Scully be looking for aliens, or that even more elusive creature…..the Last Eric Gagne Fan?

Here’s an item that should especially interest those of you who are now just waiting for next year: a mid-season update of baseball’s top 100 prospects. And if that’s not enough, here’s a look at the Triple A leaderboards.

Melky Cabrera waves to the fans mid-play and promptly commits an error. Just Melky being Melky?

I only wish I knew where Wendell “Send ‘em in” Kim would’ve ranked on this list.

A writerly look at Big Papi’s rehab stint in the minors.

A useful primer on the incredibly tangled web that is free agent compensation; good stuff to think about as the trade deadline approaches. Here’s the list of players who’ll be free agents after the season.

And finally, a Metro column in which I apparently begin to hallucinate.

What else should I be reading? Send me tips.