Here's a good yarn: Knitting fans keep eye on the ball
Full story:
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/living/2002408641_stitchnpitch29m.html
By Florangela Davila
Seattle Times staff reporter
No one hawked skeins of cashmere in the 300 Level at Safeco Field last
night. But
oh, think if they had. More than 1,600 baseball fans blissfully knitting.
The crack
of the bat. The feel of soft, supple yarn in hand.
"Come on, Gil!" howled Kathie Chapman as she knitted a blue baby blanket.
Her plea to pitcher Gil Meche appeared to work.
"That's all right!" shouted Don Cooper, an afghan-in-progress held
with one hand; the other slapped his knee as Raul Ibanez singled.
Stitch 'N Pitch Night made its debut at the Seattle Mariners game last
night.
It wasn't synchronized knitting. But knitters watching baseball followed
certain
rules: Inspect rows of knitting in between pitches. Study pattern books
instead
of scorecards. Drop projects quickly into knitting bags to stand up and
clap, as
was done for Yuniesky Betancourt when he tripled early on in his first Major
League
at-bat.
M's officials believe theirs is the first such knitting event ever held at a
Major League ballpark. And for the occasion, they had pink-and-blue Stitch
'N
Pitch T-shirts printed. They also took an important precaution with the
knitters.
"We put them in the upper deck, completely out of the possibility of getting
hit by foul balls," team spokeswoman Rebecca Hale said. More than 1,600
tickets
were sold for the event.
To call last night's knitting event "a grand slam" wouldn't be
an exaggeration. The team's dismal record isn't wooing new fans. And
besides,
gimmicks and baseball go hand in hand. Remember Buhner Buzz Night, when fans
got
their heads shaved in honor of then-Mariner Jay Buhner? Initially scoffed at
by
some, it eventually turned into a 5,000-person event.
Some skepticism preceded Stitch 'N Pitch, too. Kevin Martinez, the team's
vice president of marketing, used to rib women colleagues in the M's office
who'd knit during their lunch breaks. But then, in a moment of promotional
enlightenment,
he thought, Hey!
He figured on selling maybe 200 tickets for a knitting event. But more than
a week
before the game, ticket sales had topped 1,200, prompted, in part, by avid
knitters
who heard about the event at local yarn shops -- and who blog.
One blog entry on Mossy Cottage Knits read: "Take Me (and My Yarn and My
Needles
and My Pattern and My Friends) Out to the Ballgame." Immediately, feedback
poured in to the blog: What a freaking kickass idea.
Indeed, knitting is wildly popular. According to the Craft Yarn Council of
America,
one in three women knows how to knit or crochet. The fastest-growing
demographic
of knitters? Thirtysomethings.
In Seattle, at least five new yarn shops have opened in the past five years.
At
area Pacific Fabrics & Crafts stores, skeins of yarn have elbowed out
quilting
materials for shelf space.
The appeal of knitting, according to its practitioners, is that it's
portable,
creative, social and grounding.
You could even call it neo-feminist.
"Now that we've gained so much ground, knitting, something so traditional,
isn't seen as anti-feminist," says Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, known on the
Internet as The Yarn Harlot.
And it's fiendishly addictive. Knitters, aka "fiber artists" or "purly
girls" or "chicks with sticks," knit in bed, on the beach, on airplanes
and at the occasional restaurant table.
Before last night, knitters in far fewer numbers had already found their way
into
Safeco's stands.
"Baseball doesn't require 100 percent attention. There are between innings,
between pitchers, between batters," said Beryl Hiatt, a devotee of both
knitting
and baseball.
"You can be with your guy and they're content to watch the game. And then
he doesn't resent all the time and money you spend on knitting."
The festivities began before the first pitch was ever thrown. (The
ceremonial first
pitch was thrown by two knitters who threw out balls of yarn. Of course!)
On Lookout Landing, local yarn shops set up booths, handing out event
pennants and
selling patterns for such things as a "Home Team Felted Hat" and a "7th
Inning Scarf."
Mothers who have honed their knitting at their children's sporting events
came
with their kids last night. Husbands accompanied wives. Women tagged along
with
girlfriends.
"I brought some socks, so I might get a lot done. But then again, we may
just
laugh and chat and have a good time," said Patricia Curtis of Issaquah,
enjoying
her first Major League game.
Knitters figured Ichiro or maybe Jamie Moyer might be the Mariner most
likely to
knit.
But the ballplayer who's actually picked up a pair of needles? Ryan
Franklin,
years ago when his Grandma Edna coached him.
"I didn't have the patience," he said last night before the game.
"But now, if I tried it, I think I might like it."
