It’s “The Great Baseball Sandwich Scandal.”
I have a couple of friends who are die-hard baseball fans. We live in the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Area. David is a lifelong Los Angeles Dodger fan, having grown up in Southern California. Don is a rabid San Francisco Giants fan. I also am a Giants fan, though Don’s devotion exceeds my own.
As you may know, the Oakland Athletics have ceased to be. Their universally despised owner, John Fisher, decided to move the team to Las Vegas, where their new stadium is scheduled to open in time for the 2028 season. In the meantime, beginning this past 2025 season, the A’s are playing in Sutter Health Park in West Sacramento, home to the Sacramento River Cats, the AAA minor-league affiliate of the Giants.
The A’s used to play in the Oakland Coliseum, which can seat more than 56,000 for baseball. But the perennially awful A’s drew an average of only 11,500 per game in 2024. So it doesn’t make much difference that Sutter Health Park can only seat 14,000. The A’s (who are now referred to by MLB as simply the “Athletics” with no city designation) only drew 9,500 per game in 2025.
Don and David were eager to check out Sutter Health Park, primarily out of curiosity, as none of us are fans of the A’s. We are all National League fans, and Don and I would never be A’s fans. Here in the Bay Area, you are either a Giants fan or an A’s fan, almost never both. Similarly, in Chicago, you root for either the Cubs or the White Sox, and in New York, you are either a Mets fan or a Yankees fan.
So we planned to drive together about an hour north to West Sacramento on August 27 to see the A’s play the Tigers. I was looking forward to it. As a youngster, I had been to a couple of minor league ballparks with my dad in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, home to the AA Red Sox in the late 1960s, and in Reading, Pennsylvania, where the AA Phillies play. I always enjoyed those games, as the seats were close to the field, so you felt a sense of connection to the players.
Photo courtesy Ninjacue
Before Don and Dave picked me up, I bought a big Italian cold cut sandwich from my favorite deli to enjoy during the game. We found parking near the stadium about twenty minutes before game time. We walked toward the front gate and a friendly gentleman stopped me and asked me what was in my bag. I figured he just wanted to make sure I wasn’t carrying a weapon or a bomb, so I showed him and told him that it was just a sandwich.
I expected him to wave me through, but he told me that the A’s don’t allow fans to bring food into the ballpark. I am seventy-two years old and have been attending major league ballgames my whole life, and this was the first time I have been told that I couldn’t bring food in. I asked him why the A’s had this rule, and he said it was because the management wanted to make money selling its own food to the fans. At least he was honest.
I also had some peanuts, and he said those were okay. He pointed to a couple of picnic tables outside the entrance and said I could eat my sandwich there. I had intended to eat my sandwich at a leisurely pace throughout the course of the game. But now I would have to gobble down this foot-long sandwich in fifteen minutes as my friends waited. I was so flustered that when I went to take my sandwich (which had been cut in two) out of the bag, I dropped half of it on the sidewalk.
As I reached down to see if I could salvage any of it, David inadvertently stepped right on it. Goodbye, half a sandwich.
I then proceeded to scarf down the other half of the sandwich, not enjoying it a bit because of the time crunch. Then we entered the park in time for the first pitch. It was hard for me to enjoy the game for the first few innings, as I was still steamed about the food policy. But I settled in and got into the action. To our great surprise, the A’s easily defeated the Tigers.
From an article published in the “California Aggie,” written by Carolyn (Cari) Fenn, with graphic by Heidi Tejeda
When I got home that night, I went online to read the A’s policy, which states, “No outside food or beverage is permitted into the ballpark. Fans will be allowed to bring in reasonably sized bags of peanuts and/or sunflower seeds only.” I wish I had thought to read their policy before heading to the ballpark, but it never occurred to me that my sandwich would be forbidden.
I emailed A’s management to question their policy. I wondered. Is John Fisher so cheap that he needs to force us to buy our food at the ballpark? It turns out that Fisher is off the hook.
I received a very nice email from Dustin Smith, Manager of Security & Fan Experience at Sutter Health Park. He wrote, in part, “I completely understand how frustrating it must have been to arrive at the park ready to enjoy the game, only to encounter an unexpected policy. I’ve experienced similar situations myself when attending games with my family, so I truly empathize. Unfortunately, outside food is prohibited at Sutter Health Park in accordance with Minor League Baseball (MiLB) regulations, which are enforced across all affiliated ballparks.”
So it is a minor league park policy, not Fisher’s greed. Smith continued, “As a gesture of appreciation for your understanding, I’d like to offer you an authenticated baseball that was used during an A’s game in the 2025 inaugural season here at Sutter Health Park.”
I now have that baseball to commemorate the great sandwich scandal. I will treasure it always.
