I’m officially ruined. I’ll never be able to attend a Miami Marlins game again without yearning for the milk and honey flowing from the PNC Club behind home plate.
Sitting behind the plate is on most baseball fans’ bucket lists, and Miami might be the cheapest place to do it. The team doesn’t even open their upper deck for most games. Though the club still comes at a premium, it’s a much lower premium than the rest of the league.
I found a single ticket there for about $220 for a Sunday afternoon game against the Kansas City Royals, and I scored two tickets for $175 each for Monday evening’s game against the San Diego Padres.
The club, which features an all-you-can-eat buffet and complimentary beers, opens 90 minutes before first pitch, meaning savvy fans can conceivably eat their way to free seats in the 4.5 hours they have access to the section.
The club’s entrance is just around the corner from the West Plaza, where all the pregame festivities occur. And though the staff is friendly, I think it’s easier to sneak onto an American Airlines flight than into the club. I had to present my ticket at three different checkpoints, scan it twice, and accept a game-specific wristband before I could walk into the promised land.
The wristband, by the way, is like a crab trap—easy to slip into, difficult to shake. Thank you to the front desk associate at the Courtyard Miami Coconut Grove who cut off my band long after the game ended.
Inside the club, the wraparound buffet features above-ballpark-standard delicacies that varied between the two days I visited.
Sunday, the team was on a spice kick with habanero-marinated steak and a spicy slaw-topped “conch slider.” I don’t know whether I was eating meat from the famous shell or if that was just the Marlins’ name for some indeterminate seafood.
The buffet featured pizza, chicken tenders, popcorn, charcuterie meats and cheeses, salad, and various desserts both days. A specialty stand had some kind of Japanese small plate Sunday and grilled cheese and tomato soup Monday.
Of course, a Marlins-branded, soft-serve ice cream machine was a necessary stop. I found the machine somewhat confusing to operate. The metal bars were not serving levers, as is customary on such a device. Rather, two buttons controlled an automated cup holder that took care of the serving.
I’m too much of a peasant for these destinations.
At the bar, a featured cocktail was not complimentary. But if you’re spending $200 on tickets, what’s another $22 for a Miami Mule? Maybe the Marlins just wanted to honor Sandy Alcantara with the bar pricing.
Left of the bar, fans can watch Marlins players hit in the indoor cages through halfway-tinted glass. I was unimpressed Sunday as I watched Eric Wagaman practice popping up to the second baseman. I think he overcompensated in the game because he ended up with a few swinging bunts and a strikeout. He ended the night being pinch-hit for when the game was on the line.
Monday, I saw Kyle Stowers in the cage. He practiced by taking steps closer to the pitching machine every few pitches to challenge his recognition and bat speed. He then homered in the game (the only Marlins run). Is standing closer to the pitching machine his secret for an All-Star season? That’s my guess after watching him take BP for exactly five minutes. But the Miami Herald isn’t hiring me anytime soon, so don’t take my word for it.
The home plate seats, by the way, are quite comfortable. However, the leg room is hardly more than usual between stadium rows. Using the bathroom was somewhat cumbersome on Sunday because I really had to squeeze to get around people sitting down. And with free drinks, bathroom trips were frequent.
Monday, I specifically bought aisle seats to alleviate the free drink/bathroom aversion catch 22.
Since I woke up at 5 am in D.C. to catch a 7 a.m. flight to catch a 10:30 Mass to arrive at the ballpark by noon for a 1:40 p.m. game, Sunday’s seventh inning stretch was a physiological requirement.
Luckily, the PNC Club has a bougie coffee machine that blows away the Lavazza in Boeing’s training facility a few miles away. I know because one time I followed the directions on the Lavazza and ended up drinking a cup of warm milk before spending four hours in a simulator.
I had no such issues brewing a shot of espresso Sunday. I was a bit disappointed, though that the machine did not offer cortados or cafecitos. If you really want a Cuban coffee, just get a strong espresso and add more sugar than the FDA approves—it’ll still be only half as potent as something you’d find in Little Havana.
But I can’t complain about a free shot. As Sabrina Carpenter would sing: that’s that free espresso. Or something like that.
Sunday, I sat near two sets of very friendly Royals fans who enjoyed a Salvador Perez home run and their team’s offensive competence for eight innings. With two outs in the ninth, the Marlins finally scored their first, second, third, and fourth runs. They lost the game with the tying run at the plate having begun the inning down 7-0. I was just happy to avoid the shutout.
Monday, Stowers homered and the Marlins bullpen stymied the Padres, but Miami still lost 2-1. I’ve attended three Marlins games in the past two weeks (the first being in Baltimore before the All-Star break), and Miami has lost all three. They’ve won every game I have not attended in that span.
I’m still trying to figure out the best way to leave a Marlins game without a car. The nearest metro station (Culmer) is about a mile away—a walk I made in April and again Sunday. I can confidently say I was the only fan on my train this week, and I’m willing to wager real American dollars that I’m the only person happy to pay for a PNC Club seat and still cheap enough to walk a mile in 90+ degree weather to avoid paying for a $20 Uber.
Monday, my friend and I caught an Uber from the East Lot, which is the only official ride share pickup location at the ballpark. Silver fences corral hot and tired fans like baby goats at the state fair. It took about 20 minutes from the time we ordered the car for it to arrive, and I’m confident we could have walked to Culmer in that period and not even have been stabbed.
The metro is $2.50 for each ride, no matter the distance you travel, and stops at Brickell and Coconut Grove are convenient to decent hotels.
Miami also has a few free trolley routes, one of which services Little Havana. The trolley may be quicker to get to from the ballpark, but the ride itself would be twice as long as a metro or Uber downtown.
It’ll be tough to pass up another opportunity to sit in the PNC Club on my next Miami trip, but my wallet and waist can probably only handle it once or twice a season.
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