Spring Training 2012 and The Quest For Absolution

Just over a week ago, Ducksnorts, SDPads1, the Driver and myself set off to Peoria, Arizona to see the first games of spring. The pilgrimage to Arizona, for many, is a fan's rite of passage -- the opportunity to watch the youngsters, the up-and-comers, the new arrivals, and the veterans who have surely turned the corner during the off-season and are now ready to make the most significant of contributions.

While our attendance in Arizona was predicated on the ideals stated above it was rooted in something far deeper and meaningful. While we did not know it at the time this trip was about absolution.

Hunter S. Thompson once wrote, "If there is, in fact, a Heaven and a Hell, all we know for sure is that Hell will be a viciously overcrowded version of Phoenix."

On a Saturday morning in late February we descended into hell . . .



After stopping in Yuma for breakfast and picking up a relic to protect us on our journeys we carried on to Spring Training 2012. As we made our way to the greater-Phoenix area we plotted our afternoon. The Padres were not scheduled to open their season until Sunday when they would meet the loathsome Mariners in the annual charity game between the Peoria Sports Complex roommates. We needed to find a game to watch for that Saturday.

As we looked through the schedule we determined that we wanted to see the much-ballyhooed Salt River Fields at Talking Stick where the Rockies and D-Backs play. Fortuitously, the game at Talking Stick was sold-out and with Stub Hub prices far out of our reach we turned our attention to catching a Giants game. Alas, the team from San Francisco had also sold-out. Ultimately, circumstances led us to Goodyear, Arizona where we would see the opener between the Cleveland Indians and the Cincinnati Reds. It was our fate.

We walked through the gate and sought refuge in Colorado's Fat Tire Ale as we would for the better part of the weekend. With beers in hand we parked-up at a convenient patio located in left field and we began to nourish ourselves. The time had come to confront the sins of our Padres past.

With steely resolve we looked on as the Reds took the field. Before our eyes the new left fielder for Cincinnati dug his cleats into the turf and settled himself for the first pitches of spring. We had traversed this great distance and had found ourselves with a view that had grown so familiar over the previous 18 months -- it was Ryan Ludwick.

~To be continued