Reds Stadium Clear Bag Policy

So, you’ve scored tickets to see the Cincinnati Reds at Great American Ball Park. You’re pumped. You’re ready to yell, eat a hot dog that’s been spinning on rollers since the Clinton administration, and maybe catch a foul ball. Then you remember The Bag Policy. Suddenly, your excitement deflates faster than a week-old helium balloon.

Let’s be honest: the clear bag policy feels like airport security crashed a baseball game. But I’m here to tell you, it’s not just a rule—it’s a lifestyle. And once you understand the weird, wonderful, and slightly absurd world of transparent totes, you’ll never go back. Probably.

The Holy Trinity of Allowed Items

The Reds, bless their hearts, have a very specific vision of what you should carry. You are allowed exactly three types of bag: a clear plastic bag no larger than 12" x 6" x 12", a one-gallon clear Ziploc-style bag, or a small clutch purse no bigger than 4.5" x 6.5". That’s it. No exceptions. If you show up with a leather satchel that smells like old wisdom, security will look at you like you just tried to smuggle in a raccoon.

And that clutch purse? It’s the size of a large wallet. You can fit your phone, your ID, and exactly one stick of gum—if you cut the gum in half. I’m not making this up. The policy specifically says “small clutch,” meaning you can’t even fit a sandwich from a doll’s picnic.

Why the Paranoia?

You might think, “Is this about stopping me from bringing in a jar of pickles?” No, friend. This is about security. After all, a big, opaque bag is a great place to hide a missile launcher. Or, more realistically, a six-pack of tallboys and a bag of sunflower seeds. The Reds want to check your stuff quickly, which is smart, but it also means you have to carry your life in a glorified shower cap.

Here’s a surprising fact: this policy isn’t unique to Cincinnati. The NFL made clear bags mandatory years ago after the Boston Marathon bombing. Baseball jumped on the bandwagon faster than a pitcher grabbing a rosin bag. So, when you walk around with your clear purse, you’re actually participating in a massive, nationwide “we’re all a little scared of each other” fashion statement. Trendy!

Cincinnati Reds announce new bag policy for 2020 season

What Happens if You Ignore It?

Picture this: you’re feeling rebellious. You bring a normal backpack—maybe one with a cool patch sewn on. You walk toward the gate. The security guard gives you a look that says, “I’ve seen your kind before.” They will not let you in. They will point you to the bag check, which is a tent staffed by volunteers who seem to have been awake since 1976. You will pay ten bucks to store your backpack. That’s more than a beer costs inside. Insanity.

Alternatively, you can just walk your bag back to your car. I’ve seen dads sprint across the parking lot like they’re in the ninth inning of a tied game, just to avoid the bag check fee. It’s a beautiful, sweaty spectacle. Don’t be that dad.

What Can You Actually Bring?

Okay, let’s get practical. In your clear bag, you can bring: blankets, binoculars (if they’re smaller than your head), cameras with lenses under six inches, and even a small diaper bag—as long as it’s clear. Yes, you can bring your baby, but the baby cannot be in a non-clear bag. This is the law.

Reds announce new bag policy in effect starting Opening Day

Also, you can bring food. That’s right! The Reds allow outside food, like your own peanuts, apples, or a sad sandwich. So, while you’re carrying a transparent bag full of Tupperware, you’ll look like you’re on a very specific school field trip. Own it. Wave to the security guard.

Pro Tips for the Clear Bag Life

First, buy a clear bag online before the game. Do not think, “Oh, I’ll just use a giant Ziploc.” First of all, a Ziploc looks terrible—it crinkles, it tears, and it makes you look like you’re packing for a crime scene. Second, there’s a weird social hierarchy at the gates. People with official Reds clear bags walk in with swagger. People with Ziplocs slink in, eyes down, praying the bag doesn’t pop open.

Second, use the bag to your advantage. Since it’s clear, you can see your phone, keys, and sunflower seeds at all times. You will never lose your Chapstick again. You will become a master of organization. You will feel like a tiny, baseball-obsessed fish in a plastic aquarium. It’s oddly freeing.

Stadium Info - Lone Star Sports & Entertainment

And here’s the kicker: if you forget your bag entirely, guess what? You can just stuff your stuff in your pockets. Pockets are allowed. You can have a phone, a wallet, and a hand sanitizer in your pants. I once saw a guy carry a full scorecard, a foam finger, and a bag of peanuts using only his cargo shorts. He was a hero. He was also a walking fire hazard, but a hero nonetheless.

The Final Truth

Look, the clear bag policy is a bit silly. It’s annoying. It makes you feel like you’re attending a baseball game inside a shipping container. But it also keeps the line moving, keeps you safe, and forces you to think about what you truly need. Do you need that massive purse? No. Do you need to experience the joy of watching a Reds home run while holding a transparent tote that screams “I followed the rules”? Absolutely.

So, embrace the weird. Buy a snazzy clear bag. Maybe bedazzle it. And when you walk through those gates, unencumbered by giant backpacks, you’ll realize: sometimes the most ridiculous rules make for the best stories. Now go eat a hot dog and spill mustard on your see-through purse. It’s a badge of honor.