You might’ve heard: we have a new baseball stadium.
You might not’ve heard: you can now watch Han-Ram slam one out of the park—while you’re mid-cannonball.
Allow us to explain...
Presenting The Clevelander at Marlins Park, the new left-field-adjacent outpost of the Ocean Drive stalwart, now open for your considerable poolside-daiquiri/game-watching needs.
Think of this as the inevitable collision of South Beach pool partying and America’s pastime. Also, the perfect place to watch the game if you don’t actually want to watch the game.
Here’s how it works: you’ll buy a ticket for the Cleve on your game day of choice, make your way to the center-field entrance and head into what is basically a big slice of the bar you’d find on Ocean Drive, only located a mere 12 inches from the Marlins’ playing field. That means there’s a pool, DJs, live body painting and the Clevelander dance team (baseball always needed cheerleaders). So basically, you can sit out Ozzie’s next spat with the umps by tackling The Magnum—a half-pound, foot-long frank wrapped in bacon. (Hey, beats peanuts and Cracker Jacks.)
Also, you can look forward to having your next cocktail muddled by a pro ball player—like new Marlins closer Heath Bell, who subbed as bartender yesterday.
How do you spell relief? M-o-j-i-t-o.
You might not’ve heard: you can now watch Han-Ram slam one out of the park—while you’re mid-cannonball.
Allow us to explain...
Presenting The Clevelander at Marlins Park, the new left-field-adjacent outpost of the Ocean Drive stalwart, now open for your considerable poolside-daiquiri/game-watching needs.
Think of this as the inevitable collision of South Beach pool partying and America’s pastime. Also, the perfect place to watch the game if you don’t actually want to watch the game.
Here’s how it works: you’ll buy a ticket for the Cleve on your game day of choice, make your way to the center-field entrance and head into what is basically a big slice of the bar you’d find on Ocean Drive, only located a mere 12 inches from the Marlins’ playing field. That means there’s a pool, DJs, live body painting and the Clevelander dance team (baseball always needed cheerleaders). So basically, you can sit out Ozzie’s next spat with the umps by tackling The Magnum—a half-pound, foot-long frank wrapped in bacon. (Hey, beats peanuts and Cracker Jacks.)
Also, you can look forward to having your next cocktail muddled by a pro ball player—like new Marlins closer Heath Bell, who subbed as bartender yesterday.
How do you spell relief? M-o-j-i-t-o.
