What's the story with that grass-filled polygon next to the Red Porch seats in center field? Whereas every other square inch of Nationals Park has been engineered to maximize revenue, this patch of the stadium seems eerily undeveloped.

Is it an afterthought of the expedited "design-build" construction that erected Nationals Park in record-breaking time?

The red porch grass. (Photo by Michael Solem)

Is it open space that earned Nationals Park its distinction as an eco-friendly stadium?

Is it the future burial ground for Clint and the Nat Pack?

Is it where Screech hibernates in the off-season?

On Friday night, in the rainy cold of Nats Park, I confirmed that I am not alone in my disregard for Clint, the "lovable" roving mouth of the Nats.

I have found the man annoying since the first time I heard him yelling into the microphone at RFK. I don't care how many T-Shirts he and his crew launch my way; I'll never like his presence at a game.

To ensure that I wasn't just suffering from that slow descent into geezer-hood, suffered by many aging baseball fans, I decided to conduct an experiment. My 20-year-old collegiate daughter had deigned to attend a game with me. She's not a big baseball fan, but maybe the young student home for the summer is the market the Nats have in mind when they roll out Clint and his inane babble.

I had a buzz-killing exchange with a Metro supervisor Saturday.

I was giddy about going to a game for the first time in 11 days (gasp!). I knew there would be green line track work and planned my route to the game accordingly. I'd seen something in press releases and e-mails about free shuttles from various metro stops, so I bypassed the green line and rode to Union Station hoping to catch one to the game.

Evidently, the shuttles were for AFTER the game but I didn't know that at the time.

"Are you OK, sweetie?"

It's not what I usually expect to hear at a ballgame, but it was welcome on Sunday.

I had joined the group from the National War College as they invaded Nationals Park (I'm sure there was some strategic benefit from securing the beachhead on South Capitol Street). This put me in some unfamiliar seats out in Section 238. You know Section 238; it's one of the two sections directly above the Nats' bullpen, sitting empty *every night.* Anyway, it wasn't empty Sunday afternoon -- it was filled with some of the nation's warriors, and their professors of strategy.

South of East Capitol and just under the Southeast Freeway, I ride along a stretch of road that I call the forgotten block.

The block begins on 4th Street SE at I Street SE with a collection of sand and loose gravel and ends at K Street SE with a large pothole. Despite the city's work on surrounding blocks, this block is filled with multiple potholes, loose gravel, broken glass and general bike riding dangers.

The block. (Photo by Kyra DeBlaker-Gebhard)

My alternate route involves a bumpy sidewalk detour, and I would recommend the same for others.

Consider this post a test to see if the District powers that be will repave the street and a restore a biker's hopes that her tires will survive a trip to the park.

Now, if I could just do something about the steel plates that cover the intersection of 4th Street SE and Tingey Street SE.

Friday evening I enjoyed a lovely happy hour on 8th Street (a delightful corridor for pre-game mingles) before enjoying the 15-minute stroll to the Stade. I will take a slight tangent here and say that I really did enjoy that stroll. It's not redeveloped to the nines yet and you get a fascinating glimpse into that old military brickyard architecture. I'll be sad when it's just an overpriced loft farm.

In any case, my Grounds Crew mission for the evening was to learn more about the MillerLite Beer Pen, which was alluded to by commentator "Section 419+1" in my last posting. (Thank you, Section 419+1, for your actually helpful comments). My seats being along the first base line, I never really had any reason to walk that other section coming from the Red Porch, which is why I had little prior exposure to the MillerLite Beer Pen.

Last month at a game during the Marlins series, I heard "Nuts About the Nats." It's a little corny, but it's ours. Apparently, Elliot in the Morning is a fan. Enjoy!

NatsPark features a gentle slope or angle in the seating areas. Attacks of vertigo due to a steep set of stairs to and from seats are less likely than at many other major sporting arenas.

On the other hand, fans walking up and down those nicely spaced steps block the view of fans in their seats. I've heard a lot more calls of "down in front" this year.

So many of us were pleased to see the scoreboard running an announcement asking patrons to refrain from walking in the aisles during at bats.

The standing-room only popularity of the Red Loft bar has convinced Stan Kasten that it needs to be expanded. Hopefully this, in turn, will result in a few extra ounces in the libation department.

For several games now, my friends have claimed that the beer cups at the Red Loft bar hold less beer than those served for the same price ($7.50) at other beer stands. What a perfect opportunity for a scientific experiment! But before we could begin data collection, we needed a null hypothesis:

Ho: There is no difference in the size of beer cups sold throughout Nationals Park.

Last night as I left Nats Park, bobbleheads strapped securely in my bike basket, I noticed a man tip the bike valet attendants. I honestly had not thought about tipping the very kind gentlemen who bring me a pen and tag and tape it to my bike before I move it to a bike rack. I appreciate their kindness and their hard work, and I offer many thanks after a long, hard-fought victory or a crushing defeat inside the park, but isn't a thank-you enough? Or should I start bringing ones to the park for my guys at the bike valet?

So far this season I've attended games at a wide array of times: Sometimes I'll make it to my seat at the last minute, sometimes arriving a tad late, and once -- on a Friday -- showing up almost two hours early (the Nerd Alert in me thought that everyone would be as excited as I was to score a free Curly-Dubs visor. Apparently, that was not the case and my cautionary planning was a little overdone). That day's early arrival allowed me and my friend to see what Nats Park had to offer in terms of pre-game amusements.

My only complaint? No standing-height tables/surfaces on which to put those beers, fries, halfsmokes, and Build-A-Bears.

Just kidding about the Build-A-Bears (although we did check out that toy store and were appalled that a pair of Bear-sized undies cost more than our own...um...bloomers).

Anywayz, yeah...no standing-height tables. We survived awhile at the upper level of the Red Porch before it became too crowded and then ventured around trying to find another place to chill before going to our seats. Speaking of which, I know we could have just gone there from the get-go, but even though I love my perch in Section 321, I don't think I can be there for more time than the baseball game itself. It turned out that we really couldn't find anywhere else to hang out that was food- and drink-friendly; at one point I was eating out of my Boardwalk Fries cup like it was a trough. And I was still sober at that point, so that's saying a lot.

I know they don't want people crowding and/or blocking the main pavilion, but they already defeated that goal by putting Boardwalk, Hard Times, and Ben's all in one area and people are going to congregate there anyway (which they were doing en masse). So they could provide a great convenience if they sprinkled - throughout that open area and the rest of the park - sets of bar-height tables. Maybe not the pointless small round ones (which one person could end up hogging all to him/herself), but a few 10-footers here and there would be very helpful so if you have to re-Ketchup (catsup?) your fries, you can do so without having to set things on the ground or trying to balance them on awkward body parts.