Baseball and the 4th of July
A spirited band of moms, dads, sisters, brothers, cousins, friends and patriots shuffles in the Quad Cities' ticket line. It stretches out from the box office like silly putty before finally tapering off nearly 100 yards away, where the last few folks stand inches away from adjacent railroad tracks.
On this balmy, picturesque evening, fans are here not only to root for the Swing, but to celebrate the coming together of two of America's most historic and heartfelt pastimes -- baseball and Independence Day.
After waiting in line for a good half-hour, Jon Speer and Brent Pryor round up their kids -- six between the two families -- and head for the entry gate. Speer and Pryor are longtime softball buddies, and while they are here to watch the game, their kids have come for an entirely different reason.
"I wanna see the fireworks!" one of Pryor's four daughters, Brooke, yells. "They're so pretty and bright."
Once Brooke steps inside the stadium, she'll find out it's not just the fireworks that are worth seeing. On a given day, the game may be good or bad, a win or a loss for the Swing, but the surroundings are always striking.
Looking out beyond the baseball diamond, it's hard not to feel you're looking at a picture postcard. Resting on the banks of the Mississippi River, the venerable ballpark frames a view of the Centennial Bridge arches cutting across "Big Muddy" to the nearby city of Moline, Ill. From the stands, the river appears to ripple peacefully in the background, while favoring the crowd with a breeze that provides a respite from the oppressive summer heat.
With Davenport and Bettendorf, Iowa, to the west of the Mississippi, and Moline and Rock Island, Ill., to the east, there's always something to do around the Quad Cities. But on the Fourth of July, baseball steps up and John O'Donnell Stadium becomes the epicenter.
"We have been the city's fireworks show for probably the last 20 to 30 years," principal owner Kevin Krause says. "And at night, the Centennial Bridge lights up and it really creates a perfect scene for a fireworks show that the community gravitates to."
As the stadium fills up, shades of red, white and blue begin to paint the crowd. Many of the hometown fans are wearing red in support of the Swing's big-league affiliate St. Louis Cardinals. Fans coming over from the Illinois side of the river tend to wear blue, in solidarity with their home-state Cubs. Together, the baseball arch-enemies unintentionally collaborate in heightening the patriotic color scheme.
Among the fans, perhaps no one stands out quite like 15-year-old Ashley Lorenz, who sits in the back row of the box seat that also holds her mom, dad and brother. Ashley is wearing a giant Uncle Sam hat that looks as if it might swallow her head, but she isn't concerned. Ashley bought the hat at Adventureland, an amusement park in Des Moines, Iowa, the week before and is excited to be showing it off for this big crowd.
"We knew we were going to come to the game," she said. "And with it being Independence Day, I thought it'd be a perfect time to wear it."
When the Peoria Chiefs come to town, integrating Cubs and Cardinals fans has the potential to be a bit like locking Rosie O'Donnell and Donald Trump in a room together. But tonight's opponent is the Clinton LumberKings, a Texas Rangers affiliate, so most of the fans are appropriately rooting for the home team.
Nevertheless, the ancient feud runs deep, and the arrival of possible Cubs supporters can't just be ignored.
"The guy at the [ticket] gate gave me a bad look and said, 'Oh no, not a Cubs fan,'" says 16-year-old Andrew Maere, who is flaunting his authentic Cubs jersey. "But he let me in anyway. I think he was feeling generous because it's the Fourth of July, and I want to see [the Swing] win."
Unfortunately for Maere, the Swing fails to live up to its epithet, mustering just four hits in a 4-0 loss to Clinton. While the game was instantly forgettable, the electricity in the air quickly mounts as fans eagerly wait for dusk to turn into darkness so the fireworks show can begin.
During the 15-minute intermission, a mob of kids rushes toward the Quad Cities dugout to get baseballs, hats and T-shirts autographed by the players, while the rest of the crowd dances wildly to the "Chicken Dance" and "Twist and Shout" blaring from the P.A. speakers overhead.
Even though his Swing team lost, relief pitcher Kenny Maiques can't help but get chills when he looks out at all the fans still hanging around after the game.
"It's been a real good feeling, having all these fans come out the last couple of days," Maiques says. "It's been a lot of fun seeing it and soaking it in. It's always nice to play in front of a big crowd like this."
Just as Maiques finishes his thought, the P.A. announcer begins the countdown: 10, 9, 8 ... the crowd goes silent and young eyes grow bright with anticipation ... 7, 6, 5, 4 ... a girl looks to her mom and tells her she thinks this is going to be the best fireworks show ever ... 3, 2, 1.
In an instant, a thunderous explosion of golds, greens and blues illuminates the Quad Cities' skyline before crackling and fading into the Mississippi River. On this night, the fans don't need any help from the bright lights of the Centennial Bridge to know that they're seeing something special. And sharing the feeling of bringing American tradition to life.
Jeff Birnbaum is an associate reporter for MLB.com.