The Daily News
1 Eh...Unusual weather we're havin', ay folks?
2 Some fun.
3 Have you ever apologized to an inanimate object?
4 I did that publicly yesterday, and it wasn't the first time.
5 I used to be a seat vendor at professional and collegiate sporting events. I hustled products in the seats at various stadiums for ungodly sums of money.
6 Stadia.
7 I'm SO ensconced in Latin. We called seat-hustling vending. We were vendors, which has to have Latin roots. Veni! Vidi! Vici!
8 Vending was a sport, in many ways. It was never about "hawking", a term I came to loathe after a fashion.
9 It was a sport, pure and simple. We never really cared too much about how much money we would make. I know that sounds ridiculous, but if you think it through, it makes perfect sense. We were young. It was a competive business requiring athletic skills, IF you wanted to be good.
10 The only people who would even think about doing something like that for any length of time were peope who had connections with professional sports, and people who were somewhat athletic, majorly competitive, and huge sports' fans themselves.
11 When I sold beer in the seats, it required close to three hours of moving swiftly up and down stairs carrying around ten to twenty pounds on our backs, and moving gracefully through large crowds. We had to sashay, turn, spin, and hustle, all the time watching where others have been, and thinking of areas that might need cold beer, which was most areas in any stadium in America. Here's a pic of me doing a classic double-pour: two beers at once. No head. It was an art.
12 It made for a great day. We all got to the stadium early, when the birds flew across the seats and the local team was out practicing, and would stand around talking with each other about sports.
13 We would wait while the bosses put small carnival tickets out, and with sharp pencils to do dispatch, would look at an inbox to see which guys or gals were there.
14 The tickets represented a "load", or a case of beer, a box of peanuts, or a box of ice cream. We would start out with a bunch of tickets, and sent to various stations around the stadium. We would then grab a load, hand a ticket to the guy in that station, and go into the seats to sell things.
15 Depending on the price, we got twenty per cent of whatever we would sell. So each load would equal say, ten or twelve dollars. In three hours, a person could sell anywhere from ten to twenty loads, or even more, depending upon the crowd, the weather, or the enthusiasm.
16 With beer in particular, a victorious home run in a game could empty a load of beer in seconds.
17 While the team would play, we would use our own strategies to outplay each other in a truly competive secret sport. We would ask other guys, "How many?" and would often boushit the other guy to get him dejected. The we would spin way out of the area, because that guy would have already covered the immediate area. We might look around to an area where there wasn't a beer guy, and get there as swiftly as possible, even if it was a half-mile away. You have to be a gazelle.
18 It was the best job on the planet, at least when I was young and quick. We got massive exercise, had to stay in pretty good shape, and got to watch our favorite teams live every day of the summer. In the winter, we had football, both college and professional. Our union allowed us to go to nearly any sporting event, including playoffs.
19 We all had our favorite teams, and I was no exception. My Dad worked for ITT Continental, which was the corporation that made Wonder Bread and Hostess products, and he used to deliver hot dog buns to Candlestick Park. He got to know everyone there, and would often take me on a route with him, where we'd sit out in left field sometimes and watch batting practice.
20 All my neighborhood buddies had connections out there as well, because we lived fifteen minutes from the stadium. As a teenager, it was the ultimate job. We made a ton of money in very few hours, and sometimes had two weeks off at a time.
21 I was lucky enough to have worked at every venue around. I worked Giants, A's, Niners, Raiders, Cal, Stanford, occasionally Warriors, all rock concerts, or any other special events. Large rock concerts rocked our wallets, because we got twenty per cent for years selling merch: tee shirts, programs, hats, trinkets, etc. HUGE money, beyond belief.
22 What a blast.
24 My main thing was Giants, and summers. I would occasionally work the A's, but my home was Candlestick, and Giants and Niners, because I lived pretty close to Candlestick, my second home.
25 Giants fans were always angrier and much edgier than A's fans, and they drank WAY more beer. I'd go to the A's to enjoy funkiness and cowbells, but the real money was at the 'Stick. I knew that stadium, and I knew how to fly through there at lightning speed.
26 The competition was fierce. Like any sport, we had superstars. I used to give myself an A-. I was pretty good, but there were always guys intensely better, as in any sport.
27 We all went out at the same time, and as I said, it was never really about the money, it was about who was "high man", which could mean in your station, or in the stadium on the same product.
28 Every now and again I was "high man" in my station, but almost never "high man" in the stadium, to give you an idea. It was often really close. You always knew which guy was having an amazing day, and you would think of all sorts of strategies to beat them. There were superstars. I wasn't one of them, but I was pretty good.
29 If you would lose by a case, you'd go home bummed, even if you made a hundred or so dollars in three hours. On a ten-day stretch, that would add up, even if you lost to other guys every single day. Coming in second still resulted in some pretty nice checks, and we're talking a long time ago. I have no idea what those guys are making nowadays.
30 But moving through the crowd, jockeying for position when great players would come to the plate, working down to watching great pitchers from right behind the catcher were all elements of it. High-fiving fans on a huge hit was always great, because we became rabid fans as well.
31 Interesting weather meant interesting profits. And yes, quite often I found myself saying "Excuse me" to a rail, or to an empty seat. Must have looked funny to fans. We had to be polite and professional, because the organizations saw us as part of their image. We learned always to make fans smile, and to say just the right things at the right times in order to get a chuckle.
32 And we would always say, "Excuse me" because we had to move in and out of large crowds swiftly, and without ever bumping into anyone. It was somewhat like walking through Rome.
33 And the comments that would happen both ways. I distinctly remember a friend of mine, John Arnolfo, who was selling hot dogs one time. We were competitive, but would always stop and exchange stories mid-game.
34 We had packets of relish, ketchup, and mustard, and I would routinely hand the customer a one of each. One time John had a group of businessmen buying a bunch of hot dogs from him. Businessmen were naturally our favorite customers because of write-offs.
35 After making several hot dogs, the guy asked John, "Do you have any condiments?"
36 Without hesitation John replied, "Oh no sir. You have to go to the pharmacy to get those!"
37 All time.
38 One of my favorite vending stories was when I grabbed a peanut can to go out and sell peanuts. Someone had stuck this sign on my can that said, "Justice for Mayor". I had never heard of this candidate, or even if it was a candidate. It might have just been a political statement, but I thought it would be fun to run around with that on my can, no reason.
39 Some old guy walked up to me, signaled me over, and looked me up and down.
40 He then broke into a gallant smile and said politely, "There ain't no justice." It made my day. I didn't care if I was going to be high man or not. Old guy, brilliant delivery. Coat and tie at the ballgame. Classic.
41 As I got older, I realized that trying to direct plays, teach English, and run up and down miles and miles of steps was starting to take a toll on my knees and hips. When I was young and slender, I found it the best exercise in town, but as my body started to ache and crack a bit more, I had to back off, and eventually left the business.
42 Balancing school, aches and pains, and a long commute became almost impossible. With the move to ATT Park, I found I couldn't make as much as I could at Candlestick. They banned beer in the seats years ago, so it became a little tougher to make big money, although the money was still pretty swift and good. My last game was a Giants/Yankees game. I like that.
43 When the Giants moved to ATT, they did use the vendors for promotions. They had these gigs where businesses could rent out the park, and we would get paid a set rate just to come and give people free stuff. They wanted to use the real guys, and it was a piece of cake. They wanted the stadium vendors to walk around and give people free beer, but we were also told to sit down for fifteen or twenty minutes at a time so we didn't overwhelm the parties.
44 Great gig, and lots of fun because John and I would sit around and boushit for long periods, and then go back out. Often there were baseball greats floating about: Vida Blue, Mike McCormick, and a host of others. John talked with McCormick one time for around 45 minutes, to give you an idea.
45 I remember distinctly one night moving around when I heard a voice that sounded like my radio during the summer. It was the voice of the venerable Lon Simmons, a long-time Giants and Niners broadcaster, and revered to this day as one of the best in the business.
46 One annoying thing that people used to do to the vendors was to call us over, and if we had hot dogs, would say when I got to them "Oh, I don't want a hot dog, but could you send the soda guy over?" Some people would call us to the top of the stadium and ask if we could send another guy over. I swear to you.
47 Perfectly innocent, of course. But first off, they called me over NOT to buy, and then asked if I would drop everything I was doing, search the stadium for a soda guy, and then convince the soda guy to walk a half-mile to bring the guy a soda. I would jokingly go find a soda guy and point four sections over and twenty rows up and say, "Hey, there's a guy four sections over and twenty rows up who'd like to buy a soda. Think you could do that for me?" Guffaws.
48 If the fan doesn't see a soda guy, it's probably a hot day, and the soda guy is making his money at a place nearest the station. In those situations, it's a seller's market. It's a business. We aim to please, but dude. Really. Sometimes you have to go search.
49 We couldn't tell the guy that, because he wouldn't get it. He just wanted a soda, and it makes perfect sense to ask a vendor. But I digress.
50 Anyway, at this one special event, I heard Lon Simmons enjoying a cocktail and holding court at a table. I had ice cold beer to give away, and I waited for a second, until Lon was done talking and asked, "Hey Lon, would you care for a free beer?"
51 Not missing a beat, he replied, "No, but if you could send the Lincoln Continental guy over..."
The immortal Lon Simmons
52 Classic.
53 Yesterday mid-lesson I backed into my magazine rack. I said, "Excuse me." My students laughed, and I was sent back, back, back to some of my most revered memories of a dream job. I apologized to rails and seats all the time.
54 To this day, John still works out there, and makes some pretty good money. He covers the entire Bay Area, and is one of the best. Russ Tanaka, of YB fame, can also still be seen moving through the seats. Russ was a baseball coach, and absolutely loves going up to the park, not only to make some extra ducats, but to enjoy things like last year's Series. Must have been nice.
55 For me, it's memories beyond memories. Great times, great nostalgia, and a job that will always live with me, forever. Here's an award I got for services, years ago:
56 Just thought I'd share. Very big deal to the workers, receiving a V.I.E. Well, it was at the time. I got acknowledged with others at home plate. Good times. Good times. Proud moment, maybe prouder than anything I ever achieved as a teacher.
57 Anyway, there's an insider's look at what I used to call the Secret Sport.
58 Vending. Veni, vidi, vici.
59 I came. I saw. I conquered.
60 Peace.
~H~
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