I used to go down to Iowa a lot to watch Midwest League A ball. This was after the Twins started playing under the dome. Waterloo, Cedar Rapids, Clinton, Quad Cities, some great old ball parks, plus John O'Donnell in Davenport, a beautiful new park with a picturesque setting on the Mississippi. Every once in a while we would go to Des Moines to watch the I-Cubs in Heck Taylor (I hear that park has since been renamed).
I would make these trips with a law school buddy. Sometimes my stepfather would accompany us. He was a great traveling companion. His family had been grain traders with roots in Winona. He had been an FBI agent during the war, then spent years in the real estate business. As a result, he had a story about somebody in nearly every little town we passed through.
Once we caught a day game in Des Moines, then drove over to Cedar Rapids to watch the Kernels that evening. Sitting up in the first base pavilion at heck Taylor, a foul ball found me with a beer in one hand and a hot dog in the other. I had to let the ball whiz past me and into the vendor area.
I found redemption that evening, sitting under the overhang, behind home plate, just enough to the first base side to be out from behind the screen. It was a wet, blustery night, and there might have been eighty fans in the stadium. A ball came screaming back, hit an overhead girder, ricocheted dow to hit a seat back a couple rows in front of me. By the time it arced back toward me, it had lost most of its energy. I half rose out of my seat to make an easy one-handed grab. From way back up behind us, somebody yelled "Nice hustle".
In '93, Mike Veeck brought unaffiliated minor league ball to Saint Paul. I had saints season tickets for ten years, and took up smoking cigars because at the ball park I could. It was a sad day several years later when they designated a No Smoking section adjacent to ours. The nature of the experience changed. One night, a kid sitting behind me asked if I could put out my cigar, it was bothering him. I told him no, but he was bothering me and could take his mother and father and brother and move across the aisle to Non-Smoking if he wanted to. I let my season tickets go after that year.