My First A’s Game in West Sacramento

I

finally went to an A’s game in West Sacramento.

I didn’t even consider going to a game last year. During the team’s inaugural season in West Sacramento they finished 10 games under .500, fourth in their division. And I was happy to see them lose.

Before they moved in, I read about the concerns around players’ health during the hotter months in the Central Valley. In the middle of the season, I laughed as A’s manager Mark Kotsay complained about his view of the field. Early in the season, visiting pitcher Ryan Brasier flat-out called the idea of playing in West Sacramento’s Triple-A stadium stupid.

And I agreed. But still, I had to see it for myself.

As soon as I walked into Sutter Health Park, home of the Giants’ Triple-A affiliate minor league team, the River Cats, I knew something was off. All the empty seats at the tiny stadium made it feel like a spring training exhibition. It resembled a diet baseball game, made to taste like the classic, but clearly missing some key ingredients.

I settled in, enjoying the sound of peanut vendors yelling and baseball bats popping as they made contact with the ball. I’ll admit, there’s nothing like seeing people scramble while chasing down baseballs hit into the stands.

I haven’t fallen out of love with the sport. No, the issue is that big business has taken a simple game and added complexities that ultimately screw over the genuine fans.

As a kid I was Oakland A’s fanatic. I was steeped in the history and could name ’em all: Vida Blue, Rickey Henderson and Dennis Eckersley. Miguel Tejada, Terry Steinbach and Jason Giambi. The Bash Brothers of the late ’80s and the 20-game win streak of 2002. I bled green and gold.

But the franchise broke my heart a long time ago. Even before the new stadium debate, which ultimately led to the A’s moving out of Oakland, I watched as they traded star player after star player. I grew tired at the lack of investment in the franchise, and when they uprooted themselves two years ago, they were basically dead to me.

Seeing them, as well as the Warriors and Raiders leave Oakland, I gave up on supporting pro teams as a whole. I focused on individual players, because I still love sports, especially baseball. And when someone is good, I enjoy watching.

Now the thing is, the Athletics have a bunch of good young ballplayers. It’s early in the 162-game campaign, but they’re near top of their division.

After a 5-1 road trip, where they beat the Yankees two out of three and swept the Mets, the team returned to the West Coast for a few games. And on Monday night, right before first pitch, the tickets dropped to $11. It was time to get a taste of A’s baseball, West Sacramento style.

As we headed to the game, my daughter asked if Stomper was going to be there. Not only was the A’s mascot, a beloved gray pachyderm, dancing on top of the dugout during the game, there was a lot to be excited about inside the dugout too.

Reigning unanimous American League Rookie of the Year Nick Kurtz is back after having a monster 2025 campaign, hitting 36 home runs.

He’s joined by former All Star outfielder Brent Rooker, standout shortstop Max Muncy and catcher Shea Langeliers. There’s Jacob Wilson who was drafted sixth overall in 2023, and Tyler Soderstrom, who was drafted straight out of high school in 2020.

Lawrence Butler made a name for himself last year with his flashy glove work (and his literally flashy multicolored glove). And just over a month ago A’s infielder Darell Hernáiz hit an epic walk-off home run while playing for team Puerto Rico against Panama in the World Baseball Classic.

Along with this list of young talent, the A’s also recently debuted some new threads.

Despite only planning to stay in Sacramento until they play the 2028 season in their new home in Las Vegas, this year the team showed love to the state capital by debuting their Sacramento gold jerseys.

I snickered as I walked past the new hats and uniforms on display at the team’s store. But I took note of the upcoming promotional giveaways: a Nick Kurtz bobble head, a Stomper plush hat, a Hello Kitty A’s figurine and even a miniature A’s-themed Star Wars Grogu.

Not bad.

As the sun set over West Sacramento on a moderate April evening, my daughter and I hung out on the grassy knoll in the back of right field. Stains permeated her jeans; you can’t keep a nine-year-old from rolling down a grassy hill.

She grew tired of me explaining balls and strikes, and we pivoted to playing on the slide and jungle gym at the park behind the outfield. The baseball game was like an excuse for her to play outside past her bedtime on a school night. I just wish they had a TV monitor in the play area.

Not that I was fully invested — it wasn’t a competitive game. The former Philadelphia, Kansas City and Oakland Athletics, who now play in West Sacramento (and will soon play in Las Vegas), lost 8-1 to the Texas Rangers.

The highlight of the night: we left with a game ball.

A reliever in the bullpen tossed it to my daughter before the game. One benefit of the quaint ballpark is that the players are a lot more accessible; foul balls and home runs are easier to grab too.

We left after singing “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” during the seventh-inning stretch and walked back across Capitol Avenue to my parking spot in a nearby neighborhood.

That’s when it hit me: there’s no BART ramp and no drummers, no one selling bootleg merchandise or playing musical instruments for spare change. There was no scent of grilled onions and hot dogs cooking on a pushcart. The fog didn’t blow in and the seagulls didn’t swarm the upper deck after the game. Hell, there is no upper-deck in West Sacramento.

Instead of a looming Mt. Davis and the East Oakland hills behind it, there’s just one main row of seats at Sutter Health Park and a second story concourse that features a few seats, a press box and a private club. There’s no bleachers full of raucous fans. Instead, there’s a grassy knoll where people sit in folding chairs and kids rolls down the hill around them.

There’s baseball, and a lot of potential talent in West Sacramento, but it ain’t the same. At least we got to see Stomper.