Capitano wasn't the only one on the road last weekend.  On my own dollar, I ditched plans to stop in Orlando for the Braves/Cardinals games in favor of being a part of history. 

My travels took me down to Vero Beach and Dodgertown. The Dodgers have called the sleepy little beach community their spring home since 1948, back when they were the Brooklyn Dodgers. That will all come to an end next weekend as the Dodgers play their final spring training games at Holman Field.I don't follow the Dodgers, or the Houston Astros, who the LA visitors played Saturday, but I enjoy baseball history.

My first mistake during my initial visit to Dodgertown was to pony up $20 for a seat in the stands. There was plenty of seats to be had once inside and entrance can be gained with a $10 seat for the grassy berm just beyond the outfield fence. As is the practice for St. Patrick's Day, the home team wore green jerseys and hats.

I'm no fashionista, but the blue socks and the green shirts just didn't work for the Dodgers. And, of course, there was green beer. There were two people working the beer stands behind the stadium seats and one of them lost the bet and had to drop the food coloring in the beer. Green hands signified the loser of the bet.

I chose not to encourage the poisoning of the brew and quenched my thirst with Guinness throughout the nine-inning affair. The chair backs were nice. I didn't get the memo to bring the seat cushion like all the regulars did. 

Before the game the fans were entertained by a singer who had wrote a song titled, "Dodgertown. A young, pint-sized fiddler also played some lively tunes.

Some irregulars were sitting in the first row down the third base line. They were loud, obnoxious and partaking in a bachelor party. They were nice enough to apologize to the families around them every time they dropped the f-bomb. One of them even gave up a foul ball he caught to a toddler seated behind him.

The Dodgers are the team where Nomar Garciaparra calls home now, so there were plenty of people yelling,"NOMAAAAAA," when he strolled on to the field for warm-ups. People jockeyed for position at the fence in front of the first row seats and their occupants. 

Nomar did take time after warm-ups and after the game to sign autographs, but he's got the personality of a fungo. Hundreds of kids were wide-eyed and twitchy with joy about being so close to one of their heros. It was that or the thought of what they could get on Ebay for his autograph.But I digress, there wasn't as much as a hello to a single fan. He would take a ball, ticket, program or card, sign it and give it back to who ever without speaking a word to that person.

It almost looked like he had a mental clock going on in his head and he was adhere to a required time near fans. Luis Gonzalez on the other hand was a tireless signer. He worked the fence like a true pro and would answer questions and talk to fans. He even berated a collector for trying to get too many autographs.

Here's some tips for the folks looking to get autographs this weekend or whenever. Manners will get you farther than your mouth. Don't scream a players' first name and expect him to sign for you just because you bought a ticket. You don't know him from around the block, so don't treat him like a buddy because you watch him on television. 

Call him Mr., ask him to please sign your item and thank him afterwards. I know, these rules can be hard to remember when heros are so close, but make the effort and I'm sure you'll reap the reward.

The time-honored tradition of bringing a glove to the park was carried on by both young and old, but both of the homeruns hit by the Astros weren't corralled until they hit the ground. Then kids had to battle in the scrum for the ball. How they didn't lose fingers I'll never know.

It was a lively game that went back and forth through the first four innings but the home team edged out the Astros 7-5 and sleepy little beach community slept a little easier Saturday night.
 There may have been bigger parties going on in Boston, New York, Chicago and Savannah for St. Patrick's Day, but the patch of grass I sat on beyond the outfield wall at Holman Stadium was the only green I needed.