Every fan needs a good game plan when stretching the baseball dollar

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C.D. Hoyle sits 10 feet away, his left hand inside a baseball glove hungry for a home run he knows is wishful thinking.

"It's pretty far," he admits.

His seat is perched in the center-field bleachers of Safeco Field, four rows from the top of the stadium. Not even Mark McGwire's batting-practice moonblasts reach this far, and two rows below a pair of men raise binoculars before every pitch. They came prepared for a game from the cheap seats and they're sitting in the cheapest, $6 for a spot where where it's impossible to see the break of a curveball or read the last names on the infielders' jerseys, but even more difficult to deny the hard-bargain value.

"Cheaper than a movie," said Catherine Keil of Ballard.

Less than theater admission and the best buy in a ballpark that was more expensive to build than any other. Texas and Minnesota are the only American League teams with regularly priced seats cheaper than the Mariners' $6 bleacher seat.

An annual survey estimates the average family of four pays more than $180 to attend a game at Safeco Field. The estimate includes parking, four sodas, two beers, two hats, a program and absolutely no consideration for how a budget-crunching person would choose to see a game.

For the past four weeks, I scoured Safeco for the best deals on seats and eats. I found free parking every game, bought my ticket at the gate and discovered that $180 could cover a family of 14 if you stretched the dollar hard enough.

Finding value is kind of like discovering free parking spots near the stadium. The key is looking hard, and it helps to have another set of eyes. Someone like Rory Wright of Spanaway, who was wearing a plastic batting helmet and Mariner windbreaker - the uniform of a bona fide ballpark connoisseur. He carried his own popcorn salt, tucked away in the duffel bag to season his snacks.

"Just to make it edible," he said, bucket of popcorn in hand.

He guesstimated he's at Safeco Field for half the Mariner home games, a diehard fan and discriminating consumer. The kind of guy who separates the wheat from the chaff and tells me that the only place to buy peanuts is the alley on Occidental, one block north of Safeco Field. Pay $2 for a 1-pound bag and catch no hassles at the gate. All food is allowed inside, and buying peanuts on the outside prevents paying $3.50 for a half-pound bag inside.

Drinks are another story. Only individual-serving juice boxes are allowed, though fans can bring an empty plastic bottle that can be filled with water from stadium drinking fountains.

When I met Rory on the walkway above center field, he was still grumbling about the piece of pizza he bought with the popcorn, a slice that cost $3.75 and was about as satisfying as he expected.

"I knew it was going to be terrible, but I bought it anyway," he said. "I really wanted that pizza."

He suggests the fish and chips, a $6.25 platter of Ivar's classic Seattle fare sold on the first-base side of the stadium walkway.

Rory's seat is in the left-field bleachers, $11 seats a little closer to the field than my spot in center. McGwire's batting-practice blasts were sprinkled across the left-field bleachers when he visited in March.

But Rory's selection of seats shows an important distinction between price and proximity. He won't hesitate to spend $36 on a box seat, but the ticket has to be close.

"It's a whole different game down there," he said.

But if the only box seats are too far from the field or buried under the upper-deck overhang, he'd rather sit in left field, a better buy for his dollar.

That was a lesson I learned in the outfield-level seats when I paid $20 for seats in Section 102, located in right-center field. Three times more expensive than the bleachers with the same primary problem: no view of the 46-foot video screen. The bleachers are directly below the screen, so between each inning, every head in a 47,000-seat stadium turns toward you. They're watching the highlights on the screen, but it feels like they're looking at you flexing frugality, envious of such a cheap ticket.

My $20 bill could have gotten me into the upper deck instead. View boxes are $20 seats located in the first few rows of the upper deck, seats so good that most of those close to home plate have already been snagged by season-ticket buyers. Reserved-view seats are a little higher up, but still some of the best in the stadium. Certainly better than some box seats in the infield, but the price is no comparison - $15 for reserved view, $36 for box seats.

"There's really not a bad seat in the house," Rory said with the nod of someone who knows.

Besides, a seat isn't like an anchor. Just as a suit doesn't define a man, a seat doesn't confine a fan. Perhaps the best feature of Safeco Field is the variety of viewing spots, and a virtual 360-degree tour of the park's walkway gives a view of the game from all angles.

At one point during a game, I was standing next to Rick Frank of Sacramento, who paid $36 for a box seat to watch his first game at Safeco Field. I paid $6 for my general-admission ticket, but we stood shoulder to shoulder for an inning while he finished a barbecued beef sandwich that he said was as tasty as it was expensive, costing $7.75.

Other spots in the park are gathering places. In left field, the bullpens are more like a zoo where fans watch pitchers through the wire-mesh fencing. A different kind of zoo-like atmosphere exists in center field, where a viewing porch doubles as a beer-garden landing pad populated by 20-somethings. The mood can be so inviting even some players get sucked in. Last week, Baltimore center fielder Melvin Mora heard his name chanted and turned to look. Then he gestured about one fan's hair and another fan's stomach.

Another gathering place is the left-field porch, up in the far corner of the upper deck where you look past the foul pole toward home plate. Turn your head 180 degrees and catch the sun setting beyond the Olympic Peninsula.

Down below, the smell of garlic wafts up, the aroma of Rory's final recommendation: Grounder's garlic fries. He couldn't quite remember where the stand was, but insisted they couldn't be missed.

"You'll smell 'em before you see 'em," he said.

Sure enough, located in left field, the $4.50 fries have potato-skin tips and an overpowering aroma of what might be a whole head of garlic per order. The flavor is so potent that it persists days after the game, kind of like the money saved while bargain shopping at Safeco Field.

Danny O'Neil can be reached at 206-515-5536 or doneil@seattletimes.com.