Gluttons for punishment (with mustard and onions)

The setup:
On a trial basis, the Dodgers' marketing department has set aside three nights -- Aug. 15, Aug. 28 and Sept. 21 -- for this promotion they're calling "Pavilion Party Pack." The intent seems to be to get groups to plan an outing and benefit from the scaled-down, easy-to-figure-out menu that in theory makes it easier for folks to go down between innings and grab a bite to eat.
Tickets are priced at $35 each, or $40 on the day of the game. That's up from $8 (advanced sale) and $10 (day of game sale). Groups also get a break with 10 or more.

The all-you can eat menu is pretty clear cut:
-- Dodger Dogs
-- Nachos
-- Peanuts
-- Popcorn
-- Coke
-- Water
If you break it down by what these items normally cost, the dogs go for $4.50, nachos are $5.75 ($1.50 for extra cheese) and water is $5.50. The peanuts, popcorn and Cokes are in that ballpark range, too, but we'll get to those later.

If that wasn't enough -- and don't you think it oughta be? -- there's a menu of things you can actually pay for to consume. That includes beer, which is normally not sold in the pavilion due to past ugliness. But because this is supposed to be a more upscale crowd -- if you've paid $35 for this seat, you must be consider more of a model citizen than someone who'd just come in at the $8 rate -- the thought behind this is that it's worth the risk. Again, more on that later.

The disclaimer:
I didn't actually pay for my seat. The Dodgers comped it. They didn't have to, and I didn't have to accept it, but I did anyway because I was doing the story on it and had no trouble remaining unbias about anything I wrote.
The other thing is: For those who rarely venture into the pavilions, it's a much difference experience, one that you need to see at least once, but then ... well, you be the judge. During a day game, the right-field bleachers are definitely one big tanning salon, but it can also drain you of most of your energy.
During the summer night, though, it's quite pleasant. The wooden bench seats, which aren't seperated by arm rests or have cup holders, are a bit more picnic-rugged, but then again, those who need the extra space can usually find it for baby bags, setting down foot and kids who need something to climb on, over and around.
The view ... well, that takes some getting used to, as well. The right-fielder can be your friend, unless you're one who tends to taunt, and for that reason, he'll usually keep his back turned to you. Between every inning, the fans tend to yell and scream at him to throw them the ball they use to warmup with the center fielder. Sometimes they get it, most times they don't, which leads to more taunting. It comes with the territory. Watching the ball come off the bat is another optical challenge, especially line drives and fly balls. A pop up behind home plate can look for a few seconds as if it's coming your way. You gotta watch the fielder's reaction at all times. If you're lucky enough to get a seat in section 302 of the right field pavilion, you could have great access to the visitor's bullpen, which is an interesting exercise in staring down the opponents. As a kid I didn't mind sitting out in the pavilion and getting a little rowdy. Now, maybe having seen too many games on TV and getting the up-close feel to everything, this is kind of a distant feel, almost removed from the action -- unless a home-run ball comes your way.

But we digress... On to the digestion.

The strategy:
Without sounding like Morgan Spurlock, we understand going in that this abrupt super-sized barrage to our stomachs probably isn't the healtiest thing in the world to do.

According to our research, a typical Dodger Dog carries 190 calories, with 50mg of cholesterol. The bun ... not sure how that adds to anything, except maybe to cushion the blow.
A nacho (6-to-8 chips with cheese) is about 340 calories. A typical Dodgers nacho plate may be three times that.
Peanuts are about 170 calories per half-cup.
Popcorn can be about 170 calories in two cups, depending on how much butter is there.
Cokes can go as much as 200 calories for a 16 ounce cup, or down to 1 calorie for diet.
Water ... there's the healtiest thing you can consume.

Price-wise, you need to figure out how to make this an economical success. Take the $8 out of the $35 ticket, and you've committed to eating about $27 worth of food. If a typical Dodger Dog is $4.50, that's six dogs to break even. Or five dogs and a coke. Or three dogs, a nacho and a water.

Everything else is gravy.
And we like gravy. Especially on nachos.

Here's the timeline:

6:30 p.m.: Pick up the tickets from willcall. The first indication that we're on a set schedule of eating is noted on the bottom of said ticket: "All Inclusive Menu Ends 2 Hours After Game Time." Everyone sitting in the right field pavilion, by the way, has this same ticket (so, no, you can't have one person get the $35 ticket and buy another for $8 and get around the food issue like this is some kind of Sizzler buffet).
What this fine print indicates is that you'd better hope for a late start, or that the game doesn't end in record time.

6:45 p.m.: In the pavilion,we start the marathon with a sprint to the foodline. There's only one place to go: a square concession stand that has two lines per counter, making six in all.
First order: Three dogs, one peanuts and one water.
"Only two dogs per order," says the cashier -- who really isn't a cashier tonight, but just the go-between for the customer and the food.
"Are they grilled?" I ask.
"I don't know," she says.
Turns out, they aren't.
Consider that a huge downside to this already: Dog limits, and the boiled versions that, frankly, aren't all that Dodger-iffic.
My pal Chuck (pictured here) orders the same, but with a Diet Coke. We figured we better use the buddy system for something of this magnitude, someone we could each pace ourselves with, and, most important, someone to call 911 if our left arm starts tingling. One of us could become the Designated Dog Driver, but we're not sure who'll it be.
Chuck is a Dodger fan from when the team first moved here from Brooklyn. There's a picture of him somewhere as a kid sitting with Pee-Wee Reese when the Dodgers had a big city welcome celebration. Chuck also went to one of the Dodgers' 1959 World Series games at the Coliseum with his dad, and sometimes just buys a ticket and comes to the game by himself to enjoy an evening or afternoon. If anyone deserved an all-you-could-eat treat by the team, Chuck's the guy.

6:56 p.m.: Our four dogs are devoured.

7:04 p.m.: After the National Anthem, we make another food run. Yes, if this is a marathon, we've already turned it into a series of 100-meter dashes. Maybe we haven't trained right, but we have to do what our body says is right.

7:09 p.m.: Back in the seats, it seems as if we're now surrounded by a group party. The organizers asks if it'd be cool if we moved because he bought the four rows of seats for his friends and family, and somehow, we got wedged in there. So we move. There's plenty of room. But I forget my water back at the seat.

7:16 p.m.: There's Marty Greenspun, the Dodgers' senior VP in charge of business operations. He's sitting in the second row kind of taking in the experience. We sit behind him. Marty says this is all about "improving the fan experience." That's his motto.
For the first Pavilion Party Pack promotion, the team, with somewhat limited word-of-mouth, had about 700 ticket sales and 300 more walk-ups for about 1,000 people. Marty says that's about what they'll get on this night, too, although as the game moves on, it'll probably be bigger.
Chuck, a forward-thinking fan and always one with a marketing idea, takes the opportunity to pass on his grand plan for the ultimate Dodger in-stadium promotion: Give everyone a beach ball, and inside each ball is a pea. One specially-marked pea is worth $1 million, and ...
"It's never gonna happen," Marty replies.
The next two dogs are finished by now, making four total by the end of the first inning.

7:47 p.m.: End of the second inning after a two-run Russell Martin homer, and time for another food run.
The lines now are 10-deep at most spots. Marty is down there with an assistant as well as Lon Rosenberg, the stadium operations guy, who's on a walkie-talkie.
"This is when it gets crowded because some people are still arriving and getting in line, and alot of people are coming back for seconds," Marty explains.
He's got that right.
It's interesting to note that the lines don't necessarily go faster just because there's no money changing hands. In fact, we've pretty much missed the entire top of the third, where Dodgers pitcher Brad Penny is struggling to get out of it. There's only one TV monitor at a bad angle, so even standing in line, it's tough to figure out what's going on. Only the audio of Vin Scully describing it keeps everyone updated.
We get to the front of the line at about 8:08, order two more dogs and a Diet Coke. Chuck is keeping up the pace as well.

8:24 p.m.: Diamondvision camera captures Kid Rock and Pamela Anderson in the bottom of the fourth. Neither seem to be eating. They kiss. I'm not sure if I can stomach that.

By the way, back to the Coke sizes: One reason people may be going back into the line is because they're only serving soft drinks in the 8 ounce cups, which are almost all filled with ice. Maybe that's OK for the kids, but there's only about four gulps total per cup. The water bottles last longer. As for the peanuts, it's not that bigger bag that runs $5.50, but a much smaller one that's easier to wolf down.

8:34 p.m.: Near the end of the fourth inning as the Dodgers put up two more runs. Cokes are, of course, gone, so it's another trip. Two more Dodger dogs? Probably not going there. Two more Cokes, and a bag of popcorn, which is pretty small and probably doesn't fall into the $5 food-item range. The lines, by the way, are practically non-existent, but for a group of employees behind the counter who didn't have to bring any math skills, they look kind of stressed out.

8:38 p.m.: Diamondvision puts up a shot of Pete Rose sitting next to Charlie Sheen. Boos reign. For Pete or Charlie? Not sure. It's food for thought. Maybe they'll put 'em up on the Kiss Cam later.

8:52 p.m.: First noticable indication of general queeziness setting in.

8:53 p.m.: First good belch. Stomach back to good.

9:06 p.m.: According to the ticket, here's the bewitching hour. We're only in the bottom of the sixth, though. There's no way they can shut this down with a third of the game to go, right?
It's done. All the windows are closed up. The guy selling the beer, frozen malts and frozen lemonade is still open.
At least the restrooms are open.

9:49 p.m.: Top of the eighth. I could really use another drink. You don't realize how dehydrated you get from eating so much pork byproduct. But, of course, there's no concession stand with just water. But there is a water fountain, tucked far under the bleachers.

10:35 p.m.: Game over, a 6-5 Dodger victory that may have been tough for Grady Little to swallow. That was pretty gutwrenching at times.
And the first thing you'd notice is the amount of debris under each seat. It's both amusing and kind of disgusting. Look at how much trash each person generated, with half-eaten dogs, nacho trays, thousands of empty Coke cups...

The final damage:
12 dogs (or "half a dozen" each, as Vinny would say)
4 Diet Cokes
1 water (lost somewhere)
2 peanuts
1 popcorn
And no residual effects.

Grand total of calories: At least 5,000 combined. A trip to the gym ASAP.

We definitely made it cost efficient, but without the challenge to eat as much as possible, it's doubtful we'd have had that much food during one game.

So to grade this somewhat degrading experience for those of us who had asperations of eating the team out of ballpark and home:
-- Food quality: C-minus. The boiled dogs weren't always hot, and without a lot of mustard, relish and onions to bury the taste, it's not all that mouth watering. We didn't even venture into nacho land. The Coke sizes were too small, and the popcorn was very kid-sized. The main problem with sitting in either pavilion is there's no access to any of the Panda Express, Philly cheese steak, Carl's Jr., or whatever else they're advertising on the message boards. It's kind of like being in coach class with the other 35,000 flying business or first-class (that goes for you, Pete Rose). You gotta know that going in.
-- Service: D-plus. That second-to-fourth inning stretch is a killer. The main problem is that there's only one stand under the bleachers for that kind of food. Slowness seems to be a problem at all Dodger concession stands, but here, it was unquestionably slow despite the fact no money was changing hands. And having only 1 awkwardly placed TV set to keep track of what's going on while people are in the dark about how the game is progressing was unacceptable.
--Fans: B-plus. All seemed pretty behaved and enjoyed the night. There was only one "$2 Tuesday"-type of incident near the end when two guys squared off -- one actually taking his shirt off -- and they were quickly rounded up by security and taken away. Beer was probably involved. No kids were harmed in the viewing of the game. By the way, that photo of me and Chuck above was from the guy who came around with the camera working for "Stadium Memories." It costs nothing for them to take your picture, then you go to Dodgers.com/fanphoto and see how it turned out. Prices are very reasonable. So I ordered a couple. It's much better than getting on the "Kiss Cam." And now we've become the poster boys for binge eating.
--Execution: B-minus. Having a two-hour window of eating opportunity would seem reasonable, but shutting things down before the seventh inning was kind of abrupt, and without any warning for those who didn't look at their tickets. Having beer sales in a pavilion is a nice option, even at $8 a pop. This kind of arrangement only encourages people to eat quickly and force it down before things are shut down or else you'll get shut out.
--Overall grade: B-minus. There's plenty that can be improved upon. Had the Dodgers lost, it would have felt like less of an enjoyable experience. The Beatles tunes, to commemorate the 40th anniversary of their Dodger Stadium performance, were also a nice touch. We must have missed an announcement about that while we were in the food line.

In the words of the Beatles, I feel fine after that whole experience. Could actually eat one more dog, except my blood lab work woud go off the charts. Now, if you'll excuse us, before we head to the traffic gridlock getting out, we have to powder our nose and loosen our belts. And that would be ... where again?