Mission Improbable: Attending 7 games in 7 days across the United States

America is home to a vast array of different sports and leagues for the nation’s fanbases to enjoy, even if much of the rest of the world couldn’t be less bothered if they tried.

Even still, this time of year is often considered as a barren spell for American sports fans. With the men’s football, hockey, and basketball seasons all over, the only traditional sporting offering for the coming months is baseball. Even then, a great number of Americans lack the attention span to sit through what is their own national pastime.

There is more to the American sporting summer than non-stop ball games though. Women’s basketball, which does play through the warmer months, has seen attendances and media coverage skyrocket in recent times, even if the league currently seems hell-bent on antagonising its most exciting and marketable asset, Caitlin Clark.

American fans of what we in Europe call football have also been thoroughly well-treated this summer. Alongside the usual Major League Soccer and Leagues Cup offerings, the United States has played host to both the CONCACAF Gold Cup and the FIFA Club World Cup.

With all this sport still on the calendar, I set myself a rather ambitious challenge when I spent a week stateside recently. Could I attend seven games in the seven days that I was there?

The first day of the trip began in alarming fashion

It would be a tough ask. If I missed just one of the flights, trains, or buses I’d booked, I would fail. My success was also entirely dependent on the weather, as any of the baseball games I’d bookmarked (especially minor league outings) could easily succumb to the rain this time of year.

Regardless, I was confident this challenge would lead me into discovering some of the most unique and quirky aspects of America’s sporting landscape.

The first day of the trip began in alarming fashion. I arrived at Heathrow to discover that my flight to Chicago O’Hare was the sole late runner on an otherwise quiet Monday morning. If I missed my worryingly narrow lunchtime connection from O’Hare to St. Louis, Missouri, then there would be no baseball for me that day.

Luckily, in my first bout of good fortune for the week, we made up enough time in the air for me to both easily make my connection and enjoy a customary O’Hare McDonald’s at the gate.

Having landed in the Midwest in good time, I could relax at the ballgame knowing I’d managed to overcome one of the more precarious stages of the challenge. That night, the St. Louis Cardinals convincingly defeated the Chicago Cubs, but the real star of the show was the setting.

Busch Stadium boasts some of the most breathtaking views of any sports arena. Spectators behind the home plate, especially those located in the uppermost tiers, sit in awe of the St. Louis skyline, famously characterised by the 630-foot-tall Gateway Arch.

Monday played out as the perfect start to the week, but Tuesday promised to be even better. When planning the trip, I soon realised that in order to reach my target of seven games in as many days, I’d have to hit two in one day.

I was due to fly home from Orlando, Florida on Sunday evening, meaning my seventh and final day would be cut short. There was some local baseball scheduled that afternoon, but both the Lakeland Flying Tigers and the Daytona Tortugas (whose historic ballpark I visited back in May) play slightly too far away from the airport for a trip to either to have been viable.

This was no matter, as there was two St. Louis area-based baseball teams in action on Tuesday. The Cardinals and Cubs were facing off for the second of their four-game series, but just across the Mississippi River, the Frontier League’s Gateway Grizzlies were at home to the Evansville Otters.

Of course, I found out later that I’d ditched an all-timer between the Cardinals and the Cubs

With the two games commencing thirty minutes apart, I caught the first three innings at Busch before catching a ride four miles across the state line to Sauget, Illinois. Grizzlies Ballpark was a far cry from its major league counterpart over the Mississippi, but it was equally as eye-catching. A grand, traditional archway welcomes spectators inside, while those sat in the bleachers are treated to views of the entirety of St. Louis from afar.

Of course, I found out later that I’d ditched an all-timer between the Cardinals and the Cubs, but I could enjoy the far more laid-back atmosphere of lower league baseball knowing that I was well on my way to hitting my goal.

Day three was the big one. My beloved Orlando City SC were in action in St. Louis in a rare Western Conference away day, and I couldn’t wait for all the usual festivities to begin. What followed was one of the most clinical Orlando attacking displays in years, which was a relief given that I’d been entrusted to interview head coach Óscar Pareja and goalscorer Ramiro Enrique after the game.

Unfortunately, I could hardly celebrate our 4-2 win as I’d obtusely opted to book the 5:00am flight to Washington, D.C. the following morning. I was curious to check out Thursday’s Club World Cup matchup between Wydad Casablanca and Al Ain in the nation’s capital, but clearly I’d been too conservative when planning the trip.

The general experience wasn’t exactly a glowing endorsement of either Gianni Infantino’s newly-revised edition of the tournament or what the United States will bring as co-hosts of next year’s men’s FIFA World Cup, but I hadn’t flown to the East Coast with the sole purpose of attending some dead-rubber game between two sides I’d never heard of.

The next day, I was due to make the pilgrimage to Harbor Park in Norfolk, Virginia, the home of the Triple-A Norfolk Tides. Being from the original Norfolk here in England, there was only one baseball team I could ever support, and Friday’s matchup with the Gwinnett Stripers would mark my long-awaited first visit to watch the team live.

It was a strange feeling setting foot in a place which someone from my home county founded 400 years ago, but it felt sort of right. The city was also completely deserted, which seemed fitting given that my Norfolk is inhabited only by a handful of turnip farmers for eleven months of the year.

The United States truly is the sports capital of the world

Of course, as I had witnessed a very rare Orlando away win two days prior, I knew my luck had run out. Fortunately, the 6-4 win for the Stripers proved the sole downer on my homecoming-of-sorts, as the game survived distant yet audible thunderstorms, allowing it to be recorded as official.

Saturday marked the final full day of the trip, and this time I’d been wise enough to not book the very first flight of the day. Sadly, as I arrived at Norfolk International, I was reminded that I’d booked with Spirit Airlines. This meant that my timely arrival in Orlando for the seventh game of the week wasn’t at all guaranteed.

Yet another slice of luck went my way, though, as my flight was delayed by just one hour. Once again, media duty ruled an expectation for professionalism, but there was no chance I’d spent my first home game in a year stuck in the press box.

As with the night before, I was to have no such luck with the result. Against an admittedly strong Cincinnati side, Orlando fell 2-1 to conclude my trip on a bit of a low.

But, even with defeat, I’d successfully completed the challenge. Seven games in seven days across five different cities, all without any major mishaps or the need for a kamikaze attempt on a Flying Tigers or Tortugas game before my flight on Sunday.

Even during the traditionally ‘dry’ season for American sports, the United States truly is the sports capital of the world. I’m sure that European football fans will thoroughly enjoy their time in North America for next summer’s World Cup, even with the mammoth expenses and troublesome logistics that face American sports fans daily.

The American sporting landscape clearly has so much to offer us Europeans who are so often stuck in our ways, even if they have much to learn in turn themselves.