For nine innings at ShoreTown Ballpark in Lakewood, almost anything can happen. A million different outcomes in each swing of the bat, and even the amount of innings is subject to change.
But everything else? That is meticulously planned through the tireless work of those in the BlueClaws organization. From game day staff to security to video graphics to administrative work, nearly everything is arranged and planned. And still, there is the need for enough flexibility to adapt on the fly as best laid plans go awry.
On Thursday, July 11, the BlueClaws had their most elaborate day of the year for a well-deserved cause: Military Appreciation Night. And this year, the Asbury Park Press got a look at all the mechanics and tricks behind a single day amidst seven months of controlled baseball magic.
3 p.m. - The Script
Every game day starts with a script. Not the stuff of NFL conspiracy theories — no, the game winners and losers aren't pre-selected — but rather everything that happens outside the painted lines is planned. This script is a spreadsheet that includes graphics, public address announcements, on-field events, and much more. Virtually every staff member gets a copy, and script for this night at the ballpark is exceptionally elaborate. Most days are a page or two, but the script for Military Appreciation night has much more detail.
The architect of the script is Gianna Fiocco, who's official title is director of promotions and entertainment but could just as easily be described as the stage manager of the game day production.
"The more I can have done a week (or) two weeks in advance," said Fiocco before the game day festivities began. "That makes it a lot easier for me the day of (the game) to kind of take whatever else is thrown out me."
At the time of the 3 p.m. meeting, she is not yet aware of what's going to be thrown at her. But there is foreshadowing as she goes over the script line-by-line with the staff. A sponsor's promotion is scratched from the schedule due to lack of materials, only to be re-added moments later when a representative from the company reaches back out to confirm they'll provide the materials prior to the start of the game.
It's the smallest example of the day's big theme: things will change on the fly.
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3:30 p.m. - The Video
Ryan Colwell is explaining the necessity behind each of his four monitors and the shelf of server-looking electronics that stacks toward the ceiling when he's interrupted by his radio.
"Go for Ryan," says Colwell.
"Can you put some music on?" says a voice on the other end.
The players had entered the field to begin batting practice and other warmups. Colwell is the production coordinator, meaning he overseas all of the video action on the jumbotron in the outfield. That screen actually is sourced from five different screens, each with their own subscript for promotions, sponsors, and game information. Of course it also includes live feeds and replay, which segues into his other role ensuring there are no issues with the live stream of each BlueClaws game.
Five days earlier, a lightning strike knocked out a significant portion of the equipment which had to then be hardwired by Colwell. Being adaptable on the fly in this role includes acts of god.
Immediately after Colwell's generous explanation of the complexities of the role, the live stream for Minor League Baseball had an issue. He'd spend the next two hours fixing it in time for the game.
4 p.m. - The Details
The most visible part of Military Appreciation night was the specialty uniforms worn by players on the field, each of which bore the name of a fallen service member instead of the player. In a postgame ceremony, the players present the jersey to family members of the service member.
This requires meticulous double-checking of name spelling, birth year, details of service and military rank. The monotony is a necessity as Fiocco, Greg Giombarrese and Dani Britton gathered in an office to go over each honoree. Those changes can be updated into a live version of the script that's seen by other key team members like Colwell.
There is also contingency planning for things like the motorcycle parade as it pertains to the trained doves that have been booked for the pregame national anthem and the children that will be on the field. The point being that motorcycles must be separated from the children and doves.
"(The script) is pretty much on my screen every single day, game day (or) non-game day," said Fiocco. "I live in these documents."
Interspersed between the checking of details is the arrival of various coworkers with news and notes that affect future game event planning. Fiocco has to shut down most of those conversations; there is only room to focus on the current day.
It's a swift transition for Fiocco after the meeting as she heads to the concourse to go over the script again with game day staff at 5 p.m. followed by a trip to the clubhouse to provide each player with a printed copy of the honored service member on their respective jersey. She explains the details they'll need to know for the postgame ceremony.
After managing the dynamic interpersonal differences between staff, sponsors, charity representatives, and professional athletes, there is a brief moment to breath 19 minutes before the gates open.
"I feel oddly calm, and I was a little nervous because I was like, wait am I forgetting something ?" Fiocco said. "Everything is in place and set up the way it needs to be. It's just a matter of making it happen now in the moment and dealing with the problems as they come."
6 p.m. - Pregame
It's 6:01 p.m. when Fiocco notices that the gates have just opened and a fire truck has arrived to display the supersized American flag that will greet attendees as they enter. She's visibly thrilled by that cherry-on-top patriotic detail, and it provides her the perfect spark of energy for the next four hours.
Fiocco and Britton scurry over to the concourse to meet representatives from each of the military branches that are recognized as part of the non-profit Wreaths Across America pregame ceremony. There is quick rehearsal of the sequence before it goes live on the video board.
At 6:12, the motorcade of American Legion motorcycles begins to make their trek along the warning track of the field. By 6:18 the video board is showing the wreath ceremony. Minutes later, Fiocco has disappeared into the stadium's back hallways to meet Sarah Shrekgast, the purveyor of Jersey Shore doves. By 6:30, Fiocco has re-emerged in center field with a new skillset: loading doves into a birdcage.
Five minutes later, Fiocco is in the dugout hallway at the front of a line of 18 guests that will throw a first pitch. An issue arises: there is no player assigned to catch the throws at home plate. There is a repeated collective request for star Phillies prospect Aidan Miller to be the prospect, and Fiocco has to be the bearer of bad news as it will not be the BlueClaws' player who has the most buzz among baseball insiders.
The last first pitch occurs at 6:52, a bit behind schedule. The delayed exchange of lineup cards is followed by the national anthem with the honor guard at 7:04 p.m. and the doves exceed expectations as they flutter out of the cage into the shimmering sky just after the final note is belted out.
One rigid piece of instruction was not lost on anyone: no one moves until the honor guard exits the field.
7:06 p.m. - Play Ball
There is the undeniable irony that the start of the game marks the biggest moment of relaxation for Fiocco. Each inning is scripted in a similar fashion each day, she's not needed for at least a couple innings.
"I'm gonna take moment and sit and drink some water," says Fiocco as she leans back on her chair with her feet on her desk.
The reprieve still feels short-lived. Fiocco is back in the dugout at 7:50 as three BlueClaws employees dressed as giant pork roll, egg and cheese figures prepare to take the field.
"No chance pork roll loses tonight," said one BlueClaws player as he tapped the pink anthropomorphic meat character.
Suddenly, an interruption. Justin Crawford is the third batter of the third inning - and he just hit a triple.
The same player who had declared pork roll would be unbeatable in the Pork Roll, Egg and Cheese Race says: "Somebody just won 10,000 dollars."
He's right. An incredibly niche contest sponsored by 3rd Base Real Estate has come to fruition - a payoff for a lucky fan for a triple by the third batter in the third inning. For Fiocco, this means one more item on the agenda that needs to be planned on the fly.
And then at 7:57 p.m., pork roll did in fact win the race.
8:18 p.m. - The Home Stretch
"You look sad," Game day staff supervisor Leah Tilton says to Fiocco.
It's the fifth inning and the same three employees that ran the Pork Roll, Egg and Cheese Race have just completed another race dressed as giant eye balls. There's another minor addition to the script at 8:25 when it's officially known that the crowd is a sell out, and that's noted while Fiocco goes up to the concourse with Britton to try to wrangle the red, white and blue lights to come on.
The lights are situated by the middle of the seventh, when the stadium stands and sings in unison for a rendition of God Bless America. Any sad expressions are gone from Fiocco and anyone else in the stadium; this is another spark of energy.
"I love God Bless America," said Fiocco. "When the whole seating bowl sings along, that always gives me goosebumps."
That jolt of positivity is threatened by the on-field action: the game is tied 2-2 in the eighth inning and could go to extra innings. This throws a wrench into postgame planning not only because the game could go into extra innings, but because the prospect of a late-game loss makes organizing players a bit more difficult. Naturally, the tone is less jovial than it would be if the BlueClaws win.
An RBI single from Keaton Anthony scores Crawford to give Jersey Shore the 3-2 lead heading into the ninth. By 9:27, Fiocco awaits the last out from the tunnel leading to the BlueClaws' dugout.
9:30 - Postgame
Alongside Fiocco in the tunnel is the late addition to the script: the winning fan who is collecting the $10,000 contest prize thanks to Justin Crawford's triple in the third inning. There is a protocol for this event that includes a photo with Buster and with sponsor representatives and the fan is also hoping to get a photo with Crawford. It's a tricky request since Crawford is about to fly out to participate in the MLB Futures game in the morning, and it will ultimately be his final game as a BlueClaw as he was promoted to the AA Reading Fightin' Phils soon after.
Crawford obliges the request three minutes after the final out at 9:33 p.m. Fiocco gets the players aligned in order in the dugout at 9:36.
The public address announcer is at a podium on the field and cues the ceremony with his statement. The honored families of fallen service members take the field at 9:40. The first honoree is called at 9:42.
Two minutes later, BlueClaws pitcher Mitch Neunborn presents his jersey bearing the name Scotto. Fiocco takes a break from her myriad duties to record this moment in its entirety. The jersey is for Samuel Scotto, a Private First Class in the Marines who passed away earlier this year. He was Fiocco's great uncle.
The ceremony ends with a 21 gun salute at 10:05. There is a prolonged palpable silence as the presenting soldiers exit the field.
10:13 p.m. - Closing time
The BlueClaws' players and families pose for a final photo, and there's mingling with some signing autographs while others merely chat on the diamond. The day is not quite finished, but preparations are already being made for tomorrow's game - Star Wars Night.
One of the last two players on the field was pitcher Andrew Walling, who got the win on the mound in relief. The other was Aidan Miller, despite having to catch an early flight the next morning for the MLB Futures Game. They stayed under the lights signing autographs for the families and then did a few more for young fans peering through the dugout entrance.
"Being able to watch the ceremony and then getting to talk to a couple of the families after the ceremony and hear their thoughts and their stories," said Fiocco. "That is probably my favorite part."
Each meticulously planned detail is alway missing something: a dose of reality. Once that ingredient is added, the moment proves to be both fleeting and eternal depending on who is the one experiencing it. Like baseball, this endeavor is a game of failure. But despite that, sometimes the end result is still a resounding success.
"You can script a perfect game," said Fiocco as the dust cleared from a long day. "And things are still not going to go exactly the way you write it."
This article originally appeared on Asbury Park Press: Selling the minor leagues: How the BlueClaws script fan experiences that go beyond the game
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