V&R Stories: Adventures in "Adapted Normalization"

Sports might not be the focus of this website. Sometimes, there are some things that could be gleaned with it. 

Paris did a good job for the most part hosting the XXXIII Olympiad. There were plenty of news that came from it – some in the form of memes. Turkyie’s Yusuf Dikec didn’t expect to be one. Yet, the cameras caught the cold-blooded shooter – one not wearing protective eyewear – grab silver in the mixed 10-meter air pistol competition. 

Of course, it was all about the USA Olympic Team. They grabbed the most medals – and the most golds. From gymnast Suni Lee to Brittney Griener, Anthony Edwards to Noah Lyles…and many, many more…they waved our flag and made this country proud. 

With the Olympic Games over, we turn our focus to the pennant races across professional baseball. Not just the MLB, but of the minor leagues. 

Recently, I was looking to attend a ballgame here in the Twin Cities. Luckily, we have a choice between the Minnesota Twins and their Triple-A affiliate, the Saint Paul Saints. My focus was to experience what it is like to sit in accessible seating. As someone who is recently disabled – my apologies for not using a more modern term for what I’m dealing with life-wise – I would like to see how I can enjoy my family’s favorite pastime in my current state of being.

The Saints not only came in with the lower price, they also were the most accessible. 

CHS Field is one of the better Triple-A ballparks in the USA. You could call it “my humble opinion,” but it comes with experience. Its location in Saint Paul’s Lowertown district is an easy drive from my home in the same city. The design of the ballpark makes it easy for me to get inside, go to my seats on the main concourse with easy access to food, the restrooms, and other amenities.

The first two times attending Saints games were done from the Press Box, as credentialled through the magazine I used to be their editor of. The first time was a complete rainout two years ago. Last year, yielded a doubleheader with the community (i.e., the magazine’s demographic) themed night as the nightcap. 

The Press Box experience was a great one. The view was spectacular, and the staff was great. When I ventured out on the main concourse, I felt the ease of access to amenities and fans. 

It was definitely a “no brainer” that I would pick a Saints game to put myself to the test of whether I can do things like this as someone who has physical challenges.

Before I dive into this further, I have a story to tell. This story was certainly in the back of my mind when I was preparing to go to the Saints game on Sunday, August 25 against Scranton Wilkes Barre. 

My mother was debilitated by her second stroke in 1979. She was paralyzed on one side of her body and was aphasic in her speech. She was the one who loved the game of baseball and introduced the game to my brother and I. Mom used to tell stories of how she got her parents to take her to every game of the 1940 World Series, because her hero was playing her hometown Cincinnati Reds. That hero was the Detroit Tigers’ Hank Greenberg. 

She made sure to take my brother and I to as many Dodgers games as possible within her means. That meant the drive through traffic to Dodger Stadium using the Stadium Way exit off the Golden State Freeway. We saw future Hall of Famers play in various uniforms of the era – we’re talking the 1970s here. We also eat our Dodger Dogs dutifully.

Our last game together was probably in 1980 or 1981. Mom insisted that we take her to the game, even with half of her body working. She did not need a wheelchair, but her cane did its best to keep her upright, stable, and mobile.

Without going into detail, we tried. We left the game earlier than usual. That experience left an indeliable impression as I started dealing with own physical challenges. 

Luckily, the Americans with Disabilities Act became law in 1990. That enabled many places – including sports venue – to be accessible. That includes setting aside seating for us. 

Because the game butted up against the Saint Paul Farmer’s Market, I knew that close-in accessible parking was out of the question. Instead, I arranged a ride with Metro Mobility, the Metropolitan Council’s accessible transportation service. I did not have any idea when the game will end – or, how long I can managed being at CHS Field – so, I planned on hailing a Lyft or Uber home. 

Let me just say that it all worked out. 

The Metro Mobility vehicle got me to the game before the first pitch. Although unloading was interesting as we found a spot near the gate to unload through the wheelchair lift. Considering how easy my rollator can fold up, using the lift was really unnecessary. 

My “seat” was a spot for a wheelchair. If you did not have one, a padded folding chair would be your seat. This worked for me, as it was comfortable to sit for the entire game. Yet, those seats are pretty heavy, so some maneuvering would be needed if I needed to go the restroom or get food. There was plenty of help from the ushers and fellow fans to make this work. 

The rollator served as a table and a footrest during the game. There were cupholders for each seat, which I was able to use eventually. The “handle” on the rollator’s seat also served as a ticket and phone holder, too. 

At no point did I felt uncomfortable during the game. Not just physically, but also emotionally. 

This goes back to some of my writings of around 15 years ago discussing how being LGBTQ+ did not yield a warm welcome from the game of baseball. I saw this issue erode albeit slowly. Years ago, I met the late Billy Bean. He was a former ballplayer who came out after he retired from the game, only to become one of the leaders in inclusion for the Commissioner’s Office. Eventually, we concluded that there was still a lot of work to do to ensure that fans, front office staff, coaches, ballpark staff, and ballplayers would be their authentic selves without retribution or any other forms of discrimination – overtly and covertly.

I, for one, have been able to use the platforms available to me – including my editor’s seat at the magazine – to be able to discuss this openly and call for continuous change towards that goal. 

Back to the game, the Saints lost to Scranton Wilkes Barre. They split the six-game series with the New York Yankees’ Triple-A affiliate. It was a decent crowd on hand on a warm and humid Sunday. I saw only one player worthy of the call-up down Interstate 94 towards the big push for the Twins into the Postseason – Brooks Lee. I hope that guy gets called in September in time to wrap up his rehab assignment. 

Getting home was interesting, at best. I did schedule a Lyft, but wondered exactly where I should meet the driver. Luckily, the crowd exited the ballpark without any pinch points for me to not move around. Once I got my ride set up, I waited outside the only gate at CHS Field while seeing the Saint Paul Police handle traffic duties smoothly. 

The Lyft driver got me home eventually. Perhaps a wrong turn put me at unease. Not a fan of drivers who do not know their way around town – even with GPS technology. That’s just me…

There’s a lot to unpack, I suppose. For one, I am glad I’ve accomplished this task to see if I can do the things I love doing as a “different” person. I’m sure that is not the only thing I will do this way, but the knowledge that I can do so on a smaller scale is huge step towards healing.

Yet, I still have some hurdles in front of me. That includes dealing with large crowds of strangers – whether it is a sporting event, a performance, or an automotive event. I know that I’ve dealt with some emotional health stuff that has never subsided – perhaps exacerbated due to my recent heath issues. Just need to be more comfortable with being in those situations again. 

Part of this is working through these attempts towards “adapted normalization” alone. I do not have a care person to assist me. I really don’t need one. I have a few friends, but I realize that I am doing some things they might not be interested in. 

Without delving further into the abyss of my own challenges – real or perceived – this is truly a huge step towards fulfilling my interests and enjoying them as one should. Albeit differently. Rather, “adapted normnalization”…

All photos by Randy Stern