Innings Festival Tempe 2026: Grabbing A Ball And Batting It Out

It’s the bottom of the ninth, the San Francisco Giants are down two runs with two outs and bases loaded. One hit could break the whole thing open, sending everyone of the fans home happy.

A figure strides up to the plate, bat in hand, imagining their favorite player Brandon Crawford in a similar situation. Ready to be clutch and win this game for the team. As the first pitch flies towards them, they rear back swing hard … and complete miss.

With that moment the fantasy that was in my head fizzled away.

Baseball has run through my veins my whole life. I am a Giants fan, since as far back as I can recall. I also love music. Therefore, it was no shock that three years ago I jumped at the chance to cover the baseball-themed music festival that is Innings Festival Tempe 2026. Striding into Tempe Beach Park for the third time, I decided to do something a little different this year.

Alongside the baseball legends and the late-night talk show Off The Mound with Ryan Dempster from former pitcher Dempster, fans get a chance to live out baseball dreams. Thanks to a duo of batting and pitching cages open to the masses. Allowing fans, whether they’ve ever played or not, a chance to show their mettle with bat and ball.

Over the past two years, I watched others, including my girlfriend, give it a try. Choosing not to partake, anxiety and confidence always being a slight part of the calculation. Not this time though.

If you hadn’t guessed by the intro, this year, I stepped up to the literal plate and mound.

Pitching went about where I expected it to go, as I stepped into the cage and was tossed the first ball. My arm flung forward, bit of pain surging up the muscles that were activated in ways they never had before. Imagine coming back from a music festival needing to get Tommy John surgery after never having actually been a pitcher.

Hitting 37 MPH at the highest, most of the pitches ended up in the 30s range. Two ended up in the dirt and a few might have been actual strikes. Most were definitely balls unless the batter was supremely fooled. Basically, I pitched like a position player taking the ball in the late innings of a blowout game.

Right after, my girlfriend made her return to the pitching mound from the previous year. Improving from the initial attempt, she matched me for hitting those sweet sweet 30s in pitching speed. Hey Posey, when the Giants are losing (or seriously winning) this year, call us up. We’re ready to take the ball and slow pitch the best of the best.

After letting my muscles stop screaming a bit, it was time to tackle the batting cage.

Surprisingly, there was a helmet that mostly fit comfortably on my pretty sizeable head.

Have you ever had an alcoholic drink where you have to take a sip, then eat an elder flower which totally changes the entire taste profile? If not, you need to go to Vegas right away and hit up the Cosmopolitan. Why am I bringing this up randomly in the middle of a baseball Innings Fest article? Good question reader!

Before I took to the cage, my girlfriend provided incentive to try and actually get hits. For every contact with the ball, she would buy me one of these pricey but oh so delicious drinks the next time we’re in Vegas.

As you saw at the beginning, I swung and missed. Better believe though that I squared up and gave it my all. While I didn’t get to see Crawford at the festival, he was there on Friday, I felt his spirit and channeled it at that moment.

Second pitch, a foul ball.

Third pitch, another foul.

That’s two contacts, cause foul balls counted since the bat had to hit the ball to go foul. I’ll take that type of technicality. Two more pitches were set to come after this. Would I settle for two more fouls, and the answer to that is already no.

Fourth pitch, another swing and a miss as I pause to smirk at my girlfriend.

Fifth pitch, contact, a line drive single that would have probably landed in that spot between the second baseman and the outfielders.

Now we’re talking.

Sixth and final pitch, another line drive single with some oomph. Imagining it sailing right out into the middle of center or right field. Not enough to get me more than a single, because I’m not built for speed. I’m built for power, as I learned in my two years of bowling.

Confident and happy, I strode out of that batting cage dreaming about those future drinks. While I didn’t make the same type of offer at the moment to my girlfriend, when she came out of the cage with four hits of her own, I asked her what she wanted. Right now, she’s still deciding, since buying her those drinks was our bet from bowling league last year, which I promptly paid up on our trip to Vegas before Innings Fest.

At forty, I’m well past the age to be drafted or to really get into a lot of baseball stuff on the regular. Yet I’m feeling pretty confident and happy that I gave it a shot. Who knows, maybe next year it’ll be five line drives and some pitches that are in the 40s or 50s for speed.

An older man can dream.