Category Archives: current major league affiliation

DeVault Stadium, Bristol, Virginia

July 6, 2009 Paul 1 Comment

DeVault Stadium, Bristol, VIRGINIA

Number of states: 15
States to go: 35

First game: July 23, 2006 (Johnson City Cardinals 5, Bristol Sox 2)

Much like Asheville, I was thrilled that my ballpark travels brought me to Bristol. When on earth would I have ever made it to the Virginia/Tennessee border otherwise? There, I found a gorgeous ballpark in a charming, quirky town. There was a big show on State Street and loads of activity on both Tennessee’s and Virginia’s sidewalks, but we headed a little ways into Virginia to enjoy my first-ever Rookie League game.

The trip there from Hickory, NC was a good chunk of the fun. We took the Blue Ridge Parkway a lot of the way. Who would want to ever

put themselves on an interstate again after that? We were accompanied much of the way by a Christian motorcycle group, and then meandered up to the gorgeous NC/TN/VA tri-point. Even with that much activity, we did make it to the ballpark just in time for first pitch.

On the way in, there’s a plaque commemorating the astonishing accomplishment of one Ron Necciai. The plaque tells us that he pitched what can only be called a mega-perfect game…or so I thought. A little bit of research revealed to me that he didn’t strike out 27 guys in a row. In fact, with two out in the third inning, the catcher dropped one of his third strikes, thus enabling him to move on to strikeout victim #27. One guy managed to make contact, and I’m not certain how many walked…so the accomplishment is a

little misleading. On top of that, this English teacher is a little troubled by a critical misspelling…Necciai’s hapless opponents were the Welch Miners (of Welch, West Virginia) and not the Welsh Miners (who, for all I know, could be from Aberystwyth). Still, it served as an excellent welcome to the stadium. It was nice to walk the lengthy trip from parking lot to stadium and be greeted by a sense of local baseball history.

DeVault Stadium is a part of a high-school complex (signs boast that Virginia High School plays there) in the midst of a gorgeous valley. It does very nicely in the “regional feel” department because, literally everywhere I looked, there was something appropriate to the area. In addition to the plaque, I could look past the outfield fence. Past left field? A valley, lined with trees on either side. Check. Past right field?

A couple of small-towny houses. Check. Where am I? Not far from the mountains in the small-town South.

Bristol manages to be small-town in its presentation as well as its location. As best as I could tell, it was staffed entirely by local retirees–with few exceptions, I didn’t encounter anybody under 65. I’ve got nearly 30 years left, but maybe I can talk my wife into retiring there. Bristol looked beautiful, probably is not terribly expensive, and we could spend the summers of our golden years chilling out at a lovely ballpark. My favorite of the senior citizens was the PA guy. He was so laid-back it was hilarious. As kids got on the field to do the game-opening “find your shoe that we’ve stolen” game, for instance, he didn’t go overboard with the high-pitched, high-volume, the-Hindenburg-is-crashing excitement that so many PA guys are going with. Heck, he barely said anything…something like: “All right. We’re about to do the shoe race…and here it is.” Loved the guy.

Perhaps my favorite aspect of the ballpark is the tree-lined hill behind the foul lines. It

provides a place for people to sit back and watch the game and for kids to play ball. It creates a buffer zone between the ballpark and the surrounding neighborhood, which I appreciate. There are even trees that obscure the ballpark in a few places, which somehow adds to the charm.

It was here that I further developed a rule for minor-league ballparks. Many minor league ballparks have grassy hills from which kids can watch the game. Seeing what happens on the grassy hills is a good indication of how seriously a ballpark takes its baseball. As best as I can tell, there are three levels. The l

owest level is a place where kids are pounding the snot out of each other in a Lord of the Flies-style melee for nine innings. That means that the baseball is incidental, probably both to spectators and management. The next level up is a place where kids don’t pay attention to the game because they’re playing ball…playing catch, or, in the case of these kids at Bristol, taking grounders off of a wall. The next level features kids predominantly watching the game, although occasionally burning off steam. That’s an impressive level and worth striving for. But at Bristol, I had to invent a new level, because I looked over at one point and found an empty hill. The kids were all in the seats watching the game with their families. That’s an extraordinary achievement. Check out this rule the next time you are at a ballpark with grassy hills.

Further adding to Bristol’s charm:

the least expensive concessions I have ever encountered at a ballpark, with all proceeds going to Virginia High School.

DeVault Stadium also marked the the first time that I encountered visiting play-by-play guys (or at least I think that’s what they were) at the ballpark. I guess that the press box doesn’t offer too much space, because sitting in the top corner of the first-base bleachers were two guys wearing the colors of the visiting Johnson City Cardinals. The play-by-play and color were provided by the same guy, and he didn’t seem to want to talk much. It looks like the other guy is doing a video recording of the game: maybe he wants to critique his performance. Perhaps he’s not the official radio guy for the Cardinals–maybe this is just what he does for fun, much like I would turn down the volume and do play-by-play in my basement as a child. Still, it was bizarre to say the least.

Other things we noticed about the ballpark: They put a radar gun right out

in the middle of the stands behind home plate. Although they have a scoreboard display of the speed of the pitch, it’s pretty cool to be able to walk up to the actual gun.

These are the kinds of touches that made this such a marvelous stadium. It just felt right.

Two bizarre incidents stand out on this night. Michelle and I spotted a young woman who clearly was interested in hooking up with one (or more) Johnson City Cardinals. She wound up hanging out in the stands by the couple of Cardinals who were to chart pitches.

Needless to say, they were not at all interested in their job. In fact, I actually saw one of them give a sustained caress to her butt. She didn’t even recoil a little bit. Hel-LO, kiddoes! There are people behind that behind! Get a room! Looks like somebody doesn’t have enough interest in the craft of pitching to last.

The stud of the night was home plate umpire Tommy Sewell. In the eighth inning, a foul ball smashed off of the dirt and into his left hand. I’m 99% sure it broke his pinkie finger…and yet he finished the game, holding his hand awkwardly on his knee behind home plate. I didn’t see him take so much as an aspirin. Tommy–way to be, dude.

Also, In the midst of the night, Yolonda, the least baseball-crazy of the four of us taking this intense trip, seemed to have something click. Even though we were sitting on highly uncomfortable cinderblocks (if I go back, I sit on the lawn instead), she got the point of these travels we were in the midst of. “I can see the appeal of this,” she said, looking over the diamond at a Virginia sunset.

I’ll try to make it back to Bristol if I ever get a chance.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 8.5/10
Very good here. Geographically gorgeous.

Charm: 5/5
As good as it gets.

Spectacle: 3.5/5
Quietly effective. I’m sort of torn here, since I like a few promotions at my low-level minors, but here, the quietness added to the charm.

Team mascot/name: 2.5/5
No mascot–it’d have been nice to have one, but then again, I liked the laid-backness of living without one. The name “Sox” fits in with the Appalachian League naming conventions, sort of. (Why not “White Sox”?)

Aesthetics: 4.5/5
Architecturally, it ain’t much, but oh those trees and that valley. Flat-out beautiful.

Pavilion area: 5/5

Scoreability: 1/5
Many, many, many missed decisions.

Fans: 4/5

Intangibles: 5/5
A great little ballpark in a great little town. I’ll do all I can to get back.

TOTAL: 39/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

Henderson Lugo starts the 5-hit shutout…but only lasts four innings. Oscar Lara finishes it with three innings of relief and gets the win.

(Written August 2006.)

california, former oakland as affiliates, minor league, pacific coast league, san francisco giants affiliates, triple a

Raley Field, Sacramento, California

July 6, 2009 Paul Comment

Raley Field, Sacramento, CALIFORNIA

Number of states: still 13
States to go: 37

Number of games: 1
First game: July 3, 2006 (Salt Lake Bees 2, Sacrameto RiverCats 0)

(Click on any image to see a larger version.)

I’ve never heard anybody talk about Sacramento as a destination before. Indeed, I’ve never heard anybody talk about Sacramento at all before, unless listing state capitals. For those reasons, I was not expecting to be impressed by Sacramento. I was, and I especially was impressed by its ballpark.

For starters, the location is ideal. They’ve placed the ballpark on the river, just across from downtown, much like in Wichita. From every seat in the ballpark,

and even from much of the concourse, there’s a fantastic view of the bridge that would lead you right to Arnold Schwarzenegger’s desk, if you were so inclined as to pay him a visit. Sacramento’s downtown rises up behind and around the bridge, so the ballpark passes the important “is there any question where you are” test by virtue of sheer location. Approaching and leaving the ballpark is a major part of the experience here. I highly recommend parking downtown and strolling along Sacramento’s river walk on the way to the ballpark. River walks are beautiful no matter where they are, and Sacramento’s is near loads of fun shops and night spots. Then, cross the bridge on the south side (the stadium side)…otherwise, you’ll be forced to do a fairly lengthy detour back under the bridge (there wasn’t a convenient way to cross the street near the stadium). I’d recommend against getting to the ballpark too early, since there’s minimal shade to wait in by the southeast entrance. I’m always a fan of the experience of a ballgame starting on approach (Boston does this well in the walk from the T station, and Seattle isn’t too shabby

either, at least in the approach to the ballpark from the north). The experience of approaching Raley Field is as wonderful as that of any minor league ballpark I’ve experienced to date, and that’s important. The ambience of a sold-out crowd approaching a ballpark is unmatched, and the RiverCats’ Independence Day Fireworks celebration had the crowd in a festive mood.

I especially appreciated this ambience on this trip, as my wife and I finished off our 4th annual Fourth Of July Baseball Road Trip, and our first as a married couple.

My wife and I have pretty much decided that the annual Fourth of July Baseball Road Trip will be a continued tradition, including after we have children. How will the kids respond to this tradition? I can just picture them complaining about it, saying “How come we can’t stay home and barbecue like normal people?” But I bet we can make this into a wonderful tradition. I’ve spent 4ths of July enjoying packed houses all along the West Coast. I’ve watched people from four states ooh and aah at fireworks displays. When the trip is timed right (as it was this year), I’ve seen multiple fireworks shows in multiple ballparks,

with almost every night a packed house. I often feel like a stealth American, sticking an American flag into my hat and watching yet another small town or small city celebrate the USA. I’ve grown to love the tradition. And since families need traditions, even if my kids whine about this one through their teenage years, I think that they will look back fondly at these when they happen. Of course, they’ll all be recorded on this site. But I digress.

Inside the ballpark, Raley Field has several touches that help to expand the festive feel of the approach to the ballpark. First, general admission tickets will get a seat on the grass beyond right field, and that space was totally packed on this day (although the spots in the shade went first). There doesn’t appear to be a bad seat at Raley Field; the grandstand consists of just one level of seats beneath some skyboxes, including a batch down the right-field line that appears to include a Tiki-themed restaurant.

The pavilion area is quite lovely since it provides a mostly-unobstructed view of the field of play and even of the Sacramento skyline.

I like the ability to get my concessions without missing any play. And

while I’m hardly a ballpark foodie, Sacramento’s concessions were notably good: the nachos I bought from the Mexican place had guacamole, black olives, and sour cream–not just the usual orange goo in a plastic-corner-cubby. My wife was stoked at a chance to buy a root beer float, but alas, they ran out. Still, the idea that it is possible to do this at a ballpark wins my raves. Also, the pavilion area had several nice, baseball-related touches. There are two fairly cool three-dimensional bits of art depicting fans leaning out of the walls to get a better look at the game. Also, the lineups are presented on sandwich-cutouts shaped like umpires, which I appreciated. So rarely are there positive depictions of umpires in the world–these provide a nice change.

With quality AAA baseball in such a gorgeous setting, the RiverCats don’t need to do much in the way of distracting promotions, and for the most part, they don’t, which I liked. On this Independence Day celebration, they did some strange stuff on the scoreboard, asking trivia questions and providing random facts about our nation and its presidents. It was fun to play along during breaks in the action.

Beyond that, the baseball was central.

I was a little bit troubled by the self-declared “Team Mom” seated in the front row of our section. The idea of the RiverCats needing a team mom is a little bit creepy. I can understand the purpose of both declared

and undeclared team moms at the rookie and short-season A levels. There, you’ve got kids who are fresh out of college, fresh out of high school, or even (in the case of some Latin American ballplayers) younger and on their own for the first time. The need for host families in a small town and someone to help these young men with what might be their first forays into rent and laundry are welcome. My wife’s experience working for a short-season A team backs this theory up. But the youngest kid on the team was nearly 24, the median age of the RiverCats players was 26, and a significant minority of them were in their 30s. None of them were fresh out of college (nobody starts their career at Triple-A), all had lived at least

one year (and usually far more) on their own, and I’d wager that at least a third–and just as likely more–were married. Put the orange slices away, lady–these players don’t need or want a team mom! My wife got the sense that the players, as they passed this woman hooting at them, were merely giving polite “whatever, she’s harmless” nods.

What was stranger was the way the “Team Mom” decided to use her self-declared position to advance a political aim. Sounds bizarre, but check it out: She held up a sign that read “RiverCats and fans want our troops home safe.” Of course, that’s true of all Americans–we all want the troops back safe–but when she held up this sign in July of 2006, there was significant debate over exactly when and whether our troops should pull out of Iraq, and the sign could easily have been interpreted as calling for troop withdrawal. Even though I’m a pacifist liberal, I found this sign creepy. Not because she was expressing her opinion at the ballgame–that is her First Amendment right–but because she drew in players and fans, some of whom might disagree with troop withdrawal. To review, she invented a position for herself with the team, and then abused that self-declared position. Yuck.

But that’s a minor gripe. It doesn’t detract from the ballpark, which was a fantastic experience not only before and during the game, but also afterwards. After the fireworks, we joined massive throngs of foot traffic back across the bridge into Sacramento, and walked over a boat parade in progress on the Sacramento River. Boats were festooned with flags and stuffed with revelers, but more impressively, were completely covered in patriotic lighting. Light bulb-covered boats stretched along the river until it bent out of sight. It was a fantastic way to end the holiday celebration.

On the whole Raley Field is a tremendous ballpark–absolutely as good as its lofty reputation. It’ s enough to justify making Sacramento a part of a California vacation, and in the process, you just might be pleasantly surprised at what you find along the river.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 9/10
It’s right next to the Sacramento River and has constant, gorgeous views of downtown Sacramento. Can’t complain there.

Charm: 4.5/5
Lots of nice touches throughout. Loved it here.

Spectacle: 4/5
A few, always in their place. Baseball was central, but wacky stuff was there to be had.

Team mascot/name: 3.5/5

Dinger and caretaker. The name “Dinger” has been done, but I like “RiverCats,” and Dinger clearly is one.

Aesthetics: 5/5
It’s a good-looking place with great views.

Pavilion area: 4/5
Nice here–excellent food, nice feel, nice art, virtually always in view of the field.

Scoreability: 4/5

Fans: 4.5/5
A packed house of nice Californians. I got a good vibe.

Intangibles: 5/5
A gorgeous night, a great game, a fantastic view, and great food. This is a gem.

TOTAL: 43.5/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

It was all about Salt Lake pitching, as five hurlers (Nathan Bland, Matt White, Matt Hensley, Marcus Gwyn, and Greg Jones) combined on a two-hitter.

Howie Kendrick drove in both runs with an 8th-inning double.

(Written July 2006.)

california, california league, former colorado rockies affiliates, high level single a, minor league, seattle mariners affiliates

John Thurman Field, Modesto, California

July 6, 2009 Paul Comment

John Thurman Field, Modesto, CALIFORNIA

Number of states: still 13
States to go: 37

First game: July 2, 2006 (Modesto Nuts 6, San Jose Giants 3)

After the horrendously loud and promotion-saturated experience at San Jose’s Municipal Stadium the night before, I welcomed this retreat into a quieter ballpark in a smaller city. While John Thurman Field wasn’t exactly perfect, it was good for a number of reasons.

The ballpark itself is in a bit of a non-descript area, between a golf course and a somewhat-seedy residential area. Before the game, it’s possible to enjoy some California Almonds while reclining under an umbrella and modestogolfer watching people tee off. It’s also possible to walk right up to Modesto players as they make their way from the clubhouse to the dugout. On the day we visited, anyone who wanted to could play catch in the outfield was welcome to head out there and do so. Of course, this late afternoon and many others in Modesto were insufferably hot, so where I normally would have been disappointed to have forgotten our gloves, on this particular day I was fine not to be out there running around.

The concourse is also nondescript–a few concessionaires tucked back by the golf courses. The promotions were reasonable–there could have been one or two more at the single-A level, but for the most part, they were fine. Sure, the hot-dog eating contest that followed the game was disgusting, but it didn’t interfere with the game, so I can sit back and enjoy the disgusting modestoexterior spectacle.

By the way, if you’re thinking of going to the ballpark, believe me, you want to sit on the first-base side in the shade, and not on the third-base side in the sun. But you will have to get up if you want food. At the start of the game, I experienced one of my favorite ballpark perks: an usher who offered to get me food while I stayed in my seat watching the game. Too bad I never saw her again.

Among John Thurman Field’s biggest problems are a horrible PA system: it’s actually easier to hear the PA in the pavilion than it is to hear it in the seats. Not that there was much to hear: the PA guy actually took the time to wish his wife a happy second anniversary. I don’t like that stuff when it comes from the crowd; why would I like it from the staff?

Additionally, I was a better scorekeeper and scoreboard modestofromlf operator than Modesto had. There was a tough scoring call–fielder’s choice where everybody reaches, or error?–in the sixth inning. As I waited to figure out what the scorer would decide, an affable usher saw me scoring (I didn’t notice anyone else scoring the game here, continuing the trend of nobody scoring games in California…is it banned by the state Constitution?). He jokingly said: “Just give Modesto a double.” I laughed, but pointed out that there was a fairly large error on the scoreboard: San Jose had two hits, but the scoreboard only had one up there. It’s not like one of them was tough to miss…both were doubles down the line, one in the second inning and one in the sixth. The usher immediately walkie-talkied the booth and pointed out the error. modestoretirednumbers He received an angry, harried response, something along the lines of “I have 5 people at once talking to me! Stop bugging me!” Nothing happened for another inning, when the usher called back a second time. I actually managed to change the scoreboard! I’m totally confident it never would have been fixed were it not for me.

I got to see a pitcher, Ching-Lung Lo, give a great performance for the second year in a row. Lo had pitched a gem and lost when I visited Asheville in 2005. His promotion to Modesto was not off to a great start, but he sure had a great game when I arrived for this visit: 3 hits in 7 innings–2 runs, one unearned. Mr. Lo, I’m happy to watch you at the AAA level in Colorado Springs in a year or two. (But, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not modestosign return to Drillers Stadium in Tulsa, so get through AA as quickly as you can.)

My wife and I met a nice woman–a mother of two from Southern California who was conned by her 11-year-old son into stopping in Modesto on the way home from a holiday weekend in the mountains. She could not believe that my wife and I were in Modesto only to see a baseball game, even though her husband does similar tours of ballparks. My main concern for her was that she was turning around to talk to us. Since we were in the second row behind a dugout, I had images of her or her daughter getting their heads exploded by a foul ball. Hadn’t she read the sign which stated that that could happen? When I offered to have her join us in the third row so that she could see any threatening line drives heading her way, her response was “No, I’m fine.” Thank goodness she was right.

All in all, a fine, quiet evening in an ordinary–blessedly ordinary–ballpark.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 6.5/10
Tough to score this since I have no real image of what Modesto’s region should feel like. They do well with all the nuts they sell in concessions and in the team name, but they fall short in the view from the seating bowl. Also, the neighborhood and golf course could be anywhere in the USA.

Charm: 3/5
Not bad, but not great.

Spectacle: 4/5
Could be one or two more at the single-A level, but not too shabby. I liked the multiple mascots getting around–and that they didn’t interfere with baseball.

Team mascot/name: 5/5

modestomascots

modestorobot

Wally the Walnut is on the left, Peanut the Elephant (I believe a leftover from the old Modesto A’s) is on the right. Not pictured: Al the Almond. Modesto Nuts is an ideal name, and the multiple mascots are quite nice.

Aesthetics: 2.5/5
Nothing too special here.

Pavilion area: 3.5/5

Scoreability: 1/5
If I have to tell your scorekeeper and scoreboard operator that there’s been a double down the line, well, that’s a serious problem. (But thanks to the usher for fixing it.)

Fans: 2.5/5
I sat with a nice woman and her daughter, but other than that, the game was sparsely attended and what fans there were stayed very quiet.

Intangibles: 4/5
On the whole, I liked it here, mostly because it was so cozy and calm.

TOTAL: 32/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

Ching-Lung Lo pitches 7 innings of 3-hit ball to pick up the win, striking out 10 and walking none. Here he is signing an autograph for a fan in the dugout before the game:

modestochinglo

Chris Frey has a pair of RBI.

(Written July 2006.)

california, california league, high level single a, minor league, san francisco giants affiliates

Municipal Stadium, San Jose, California

July 6, 2009 Paul 1 Comment

Municipal Stadium, San Jose, CALIFORNIA

Number of states: still 13
States to go: 37

First game: July 1, 2006 (San Jose Giants 5, Modesto Nuts 1)

(Municipal Stadium has since been renamed Excite Stadium.)
(Click on any image to see a larger version.)

Ever see a gorgeous Jaguar going 25 in the passing lane? How about a gorgeous house with a view and a huge garden filled with weeds? A beautiful young man or woman with a huge, terrible tattoo? That’s how San Jose’s

Municipal Stadium made me feel. Ownership of something beautiful does not mean that the owner knows how to use it. And the folks who own the Giants, Progress Sports Management (an ironic name if I’ve ever seen one), don’t know how to present their beautiful ballpark to the public. The loud, ridiculous game I endured in 2006 was one of the biggest disappointments in my years of going to ballparks.

In its physical characteristics and attention to history, Municipal Stadium is right up there with Vancouver and Spokane–which is saying something. I was very impressed with the loads of California League history, the murals of past greats, and the past standings and stats pasted all over the pavilion. It was wonderful to soak all of that in. There’s room to play catch next to the murals, areas for kids to enjoy a pre-game jump-around, a marvelous place to get ribs, and live blues music. Gigante the mascot is to my satisfaction–I like the name. The whole place has a positive vibe. I was looking forward to the baseball. But the owners of the team

apparently don’t care about baseball.

I’m not a straight traditionalist by any stretch of the imagination. Seriously–particularly at the single-A level, I enjoy some wacky promotions between innings. But said promotions cannot interfere with the play on the field. These did. There really wasn’t any reason to hold a baseball game at all…in San Jose, the baseball game has no value of its own, but only holds value as a sponsorship transference device.

I should have figured that it would be a long night when the person throwing out the first pitch–the local chief of police–arrived via a helicopter that landed on the field. The helicopter turned out to be the most understated promotion of the night. (Conveniently, they put live video of the helicopter’s landing on the scoreboard…just in case anyone was unable to find the huge, loud aircraft landing in center field.) Incredibly, the Giants would make announcements and hold promotions not just

between innings–which I’m okay with–but also between batters and, incredibly, between pitches.

Let us enumerate the worst of their sins:

–I don’t mind the gorgeous scoreboard. I also don’t mind a promotion marking strikeouts. But rather than put K’s on the outfield wall, or even keep track of the number of K’s, they simply put a K on the scoreboard, and announced “Another K for Kelly Moore Paints!” My wife put it well: rather than a charming, wacky promotion, this was just a dull, corporate promotion. I want the dull corporate stuff out of my minor league ballpark (and, for that matter, out of my major league ballparks, but that’s a harder battle to face). There’s no charm, there’s nothing exciting…it’s just a way to make money. And with Darren Sack’s success pitching the ball, I got so sick of the promotion that I have become an avowed Sherwin Williams man.

–The program cost $7…easily the most expensive program I’ve ever purchased. It was jam-packed with information about the 2005 San Jose Giants. In a minor league program, this is terribly unnecessary information. The lion’s share

of the 2005 Giants had moved on for 2006…on to Connecticut and double-A ball. I don’t want to know about them…I want to know about the guys on the field in front of me, and what they’d been up to in Salem-Keizer or Augusta. Why bother with such a huge, expensive program when a smaller, cheaper one would be more effective? Again, my business-major wife had the answer: “More pages means more ads.” Oh.

–I’m fine with the beer batter. I am NOT fine with playing music between pitches and after strikes! When the batter is in the batter’s box, don’t play snippets of “Beer Barrel Polka” with each strike. The crowd is not stupid. They know there’s a shot at a beer. They’ll cheer. Why insult them with music? You’re not adding to the excitement. You’re detracting from the baseball. Remember that? Baseball?

–The cannon. They set it off in pre-game, which is fine, I guess. But it went off once while the ball was in play: during a groundout to short. The player closest to the cannon, left fielder Michael Wagner, damn near jumped out of his stirrup socks. Two things could have happened: the cannon could have gone off accidentally, which is terrifying and dangerous, or it could have been intentionally set off during play, which

is awful and ridiculous…and, alas, in character for the night.

–The worst of all: the sunflower seeds. Some sunflower seed company would give away sunflower seeds to the crowd if the Giants scored in the fifth inning. The Giants scored in the fifth inning. Inexplicably, rather than waiting until between innings to deliver the goods, they sent kids out to hurl sunflower seed packets into the crowd immediately, while the next batter was at the plate. Fans stood up and trampled each other to get to the seeds. Meanwhile, there was baseball being played, but that was clearly of little or no interest to the Giants and their fans.

–Even the fireworks were lame. Almost never was there more than one firecracker going off at a time. Stupidly, they showed the fireworks live on the scoreboard. Why?

The net result of all of this is that the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. I don’t know what this evening was about, but it wasn’t about baseball. And in a ballpark that gets so much right–where baseball is celebrated on nearly every physical surface–I’m upset that the experience isn’t about baseball. Municipal Stadium, therefore, scores very high in some areas and very low in others. I hope to return one day when the team is under new management. In the meantime, if anybody from the Giants is reading this, I implore you: QUIET DOWN THE PROMOTIONS. You’ll still get your sellouts, and you’ll be serving your fans in addition to serving your sponsors.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 8.5/10
The pavilion celebrates California baseball, with particular attention to California Leaguers who have gone on to the Hall of Fame.

Charm: 2.5/5
Physically, yes. But as no advertisement can be charming, neither can the experience of attending a game at Municipal Stadium.

Spectacle: 1.5/5
A couple of good promotions, like one where players tried to bust out the headlights of a car with a baseball, but on the whole, things were ludicrously over-the-top.

Team mascot/name: 2.5/5

Gigante and me. Is he an ape? A gorilla? Hard to tell, but I don’t mind him or his name. However, the name “Giants” is a bit dull.

Aesthetics: 4/5
Lovely park. Not much of a view, though.

Pavilion area: 5/5
Absolutely gorgeous. Loads of activity, plenty of art, and a celebration of baseball.

Scoreability: 2/5
Not great here. It was hard to tell when a new pitcher arrived, and inexcplicably, while the Giants’ lineup was listed in the pavilion, the opponents’ were not.

Fans: 2.5/5
I give San Jose fans credit for the sellout. I do NOT give them credit for their baseball acumen, however, as it’s clear they’re eating up the garbage that the team is shelling out.

Intangibles: 0/5
A ballgame experience that, in the end, actually upset me. So much wasted potential here.

TOTAL: 28.5/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

The Giants’ Darren Sack is the star, giving up two hits and striking out six in six innings of shutout ball. Thomas King and Ben Cox finish the four-hitter, giving up only an unearned run in the ninth.

(Written July 2006.)

california, california league, high level single a, minor league, san diego padres affiliates

The Diamond, Lake Elsinore, California

July 6, 2009 Paul Comment

The Diamond, Lake Elsinore, CALIFORNIA

Number of states: 13
States to go: 37

Number of games: 1
April 7, 2006 (Lake Elsinore Storm 3, Lancaster JetHawks 1)

Update August 2008: To see Storm Account Executive David McCrory’s jaw-droppingly unprofessional email response to this ballpark review, scroll down.

(Click any image to see in a larger size.)

It all comes down to a conversation I had at the gift shop. I went to this game alone, which mean I was carrying my scorebook as I purchased my mini-bat to add to my Wall Of Minor League Mini-Bats. God as my witness, the saleswoman uttered the following:

“Are you a scout?”

This is sick and wrong on so many levels. Let me count the ways: First, why the hell would a scout buy a mini-bat? Beyond

that, I cannot come up with any reason why a scout would even enter the gift shop. So why did she ask me if I was a scout? It had to be the scorebook. She assumed that a scorebook meant I was a scout. I believe that she had never noticed a fan carrying a scorebook before.

And why would anyone bother taking a scorebook to The Diamond at Lake Elsinore? I see no reason why, because baseball is unimportant at this ballpark. In spite of all of the positive things I’d heard about it, I was not at all impressed with this night at the ballpark.

Yes, I know. I like promotions at the ballpark, and more promotions at the lower levels than at the higher levels. But at Lake Elsinore, the promotions actually crossed the line and

interfered with the

baseball. For reasons I cannot fathom, they made April 7 a St. Patrick’s Day promotion. They changed the baselines and bases to green. They put either an “O” or a “Mc” in front of everyone’s name on the scoreboard. This ranged from the confusing (since I missed player introductions and didn’t buy a program for a few innings, there was no reason why Skip Adams couldn’t actually be Skip McAdams) to the ludicrous and borderline-offensive, as in the photo here. Often, the music and promotional crap distracted the

PA announcer, who frequently would fail to announce a batter or a fielding change until after a few pitches had already been thrown. That is completely unacceptable. Get your promotions out of the way and do your primary job!

Seriously. I’m not incapable of having fun. I love “Bark at the Park” night at Everett Memorial Stadium. I’m into trivia, silliness, and even bizarre behavior between innings. I like Bill Veeck. But once the inning begins, leave the game alone! Don’t touch the field, and don’t touch the players’ names. To do so is to send the message that baseball is of secondary or even tertiary importance to the night. If it were, why bother having a team? Why not just invite a couple of thousand people over 72 nights a year for themed parties?

The atmosphere of baseball-is-not-important trickles

down to every part of the park. In addition to gift-shop workers who assume that one must be a scout to carry a scorebook, just consider the grassy hill by the right field foul pole. Alone, this is a positive. I imagine people hanging out on blankets, picnicking, enjoying the game, maybe throwing a ball around. I imagine kids running around, too, burning off some steam. At Lake Elsinore, what we have instead are kids constantly either rolling down the hill, running up the hill, or whaling on each other. I have three siblings, so I know violence is a base component of any family, but what I saw on that hill was akin to Lord of the Flies. I saw exactly one kid in the stands (more on him later), but dozens on the hill. That’s right…families of Southern California had taken their kids to the ballpark where almost none of them watched baseball.

The park is lovely in architecture…nice tan bricks,

red seats, green roof. The scoreboard is high quality for single-A ball. The gift shop, the external concourse, the ad-covered monster wall in right field which includes a hand-operated scoreboard…all were very nice. The Diamond’s location is far enough outside of L.A.’s endless, boring, monotonous suburbs that it’s lovely–near the actual Lake Elsinore and some mountains. With other people running the team, I might have enjoyed this park, but I’m afraid I couldn’t see through the entire night of silliness…the Irish crap on the field, the obese guy in spandex throwing out T-shirts, the constant assault and battery on the lawn, the indifference of the scorer and PA announcer…all of it was too much to overlook.

What I’ll remember most from this night is the Storm’s Colt Morton

and a youngster sitting two seats to my left. I’ve been keeping track of Colt since he had a big night in Eugene two years back. I thought he might be a stud in the making, and I especially liked the fact that a guy named Colt wore #45. He’s been promoted to high-A since then. He’s switched to #41, alas. But I like him a lot more now than I did before I saw him at The Diamond because of the way he interacted with the little kid nearby. This was the second game of the year, and Colt stepped out before his first at-bat and gave the kid a really warm greeting. “Hey! Where were you last night? I went 0-for-3!” The kid absolutely ate it up, and all of us shouted “Go, Colt!” to get the kid to join us. Colt even let the kid hold his bat’s donut between innings at one point. It made for a very nice vibe around where I was sitting.

Even with that nice moment, however, I can’t say I was impressed with The Diamond. I’d be interested to go back someday if the team were under new management who cared a little about baseball…who recognized that you don’t have to be a scout to pay attention. When that happens, I’ll probably like the place better.

UPDATE AUGUST 2008: I get fairly consistent emails based on what I write on this site. Sometimes I receive interesting remarks from people in the front office of minor league teams (such as the nice guys from Tennessee or Everett). Occasionally I’ll get rage-filled notes from people with anger management problems who take things like frivolous ballpark websites too seriously.

But never before had I received a combination: a rage-filled email from a minor league front-office worker with anger management problems. I present, verbatim, an email I received from David McCrory, a Storm account executive.

Subject: Storm Baseball

Hey Jerkoff,
I am the obese guy in the spandex throwing out t-shirts,
only it isn’t spandex, it’s red tights, part of the
Mr. Incredible costume which the kids and families really
enjoy if you bothered to look around you, and I wasn’t
throwing out t-shirts they were frisbees, so obviously you
have your facts wrong and you should probably spend more
time paying attention to detail. Now I can see why you need
a scorecard in the first place, you have the mental capacity
of a first-grader.
It’s OK though because we have your picture now and
we are going to have a ball this season making you look
like the complete MORON you are. Stay tuned for more.

Mr. McCrory correctly points out that I made a couple of mistakes on this page–from a distance in the night, I could not tell that he was wearing tights rather than spandex, or that he was throwing out frisbees rather than T-shirts. If that’s a lack of “attention to detail,” well, I’m guilty, although, unlike the Storm, I try to focus on baseball-related details while at the ballpark.

However, let us consider the way that Mr. McCrory and the Storm’s GM and President (all of whom ignored my request for an explanation for McCrory’s behavior) feel it is appropriate to do business. They either practice or condone the following behaviors:

1. To address former customers who disagree with them as “Jerkoff.”
2. To question those customers’ educational attainment (and to do so in a run-on sentence).
3. To state that those who score the game are doing so because they are mentally challenged.
4. To insult those customers three times in a 120-word email (“Jerkoff,” “mental capacity of a first-grader,” and “MORON.”)
5. Perhaps most alarmingly, to insinuate that they have memorized a dissatisfied customer’s physical appearance and to threaten to humiliate that customer should he ever again appear at The Diamond.

Mr. McCrory’s threats don’t matter to me, since I don’t like the overbearing show the Storm puts on and therefore am very unlikely to return until their product indicates that they value baseball as more than a promotions transference device. But still, I think it’s good that people see that the Storm’s front office apparently finds emails like this to be appropriate and acceptable.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 7.5/10
Nice views.

Charm: 2/5
I like the physical ballpark, but anyone who tries this hard cannot possibly be considered charming.

Spectacle: 1/5
While I like a lot of promotions in single-A ball, this was overdone to the point of disgusting.

Team mascot/name: 2/5

Thunder, a Phillie Phanatic ripoff with a boring name, gives me a little love. This is yet another thing the team got wrong. The mascot used to be named Hamlet, which is perfect for Lake Elsinore (am I right, fellow English teachers?). But no, they managed to screw this up by changing the name to Thunder, which mostly makes me think of flatulence.

Aesthetics: 4.5/5
Can’t deny that this is a lovely place.

Pavilion area: 4 /5

Scoreability: 1/5
Seriously, if I can’t trust them to tell me the batter on time, how can I trust them with anything of import? Also, intentionally putting wrong names up was more confusing than funny.

Fans: 1.5/5
Memo to Storm fans: There is baseball being played. You might enjoy watching it. (The cool kid who was friends with Colt bumps up this score.)

Intangibles: 0/5
As you’ve probably figured out by now, I spent most of the night annoyed at the ballpark’s wasted potential. And to be called names by a member of the front office…well, that’s just so over the line that it’s comical.

TOTAL: 23.5/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

The Storm’s Chase Headley was the hero, driving in the winning runs with a double in the bottom of the eighth.

A.J. Shappi pitched beautifully for Lancaster, striking out 8 in 6 innings.

northwest league, seattle mariners affiliates, short season single a, washington, wedding rehearsal dinner

Paul and Michelle’s Love And Baseball Rehearsal Dinner Extravaganza

July 6, 2009 Paul Comment

Paul and Michelle’s Love And Baseball Rehearsal Dinner Extravaganza

Everett Memorial Stadium, Everett, WASHINGTON
Number of states: still 11
States to go: 39

July 29, 2005 (Tri-City Dust Devils 9, Everett AquaSox 3)

After proposing to my wife (just after visiting Vancouver’s Nat Bailey Stadium), we had 11 months to set up our wedding weekend. Now, as I have told you, there was never any question: the wedding was not going to take place at a ballpark, just as the proposal wasn’t. But we wanted minor league baseball to be a part of our weekend. Baseball was central to our relationship.

How you ask? Well, let me quote the minister at our wedding: “Dear friends, we are gathered here today, in the company of friends and loved ones, ready to celebrate the marriage of Michelle and Paul…because of the infield fly rule.” Who else can say their marriage is a direct result of the infield fly rule? I bet none.

Michelle and I wait on the field for our pre-game activities with Al, an AquaSox worker.

Michelle and I dated for a while back in 1997. During that time, I took her to a Mariners game at the Kingdome. I taught her the ins and outs of the infield fly rule. She thought I was nuts. We broke up (not because of that). Four years later, Michelle had coincidentally gotten a job with the Tri-City Dust Devils. She was a moderately big baseball fan, but not quite as intense as those who worked in baseball her whole life. However, Michelle found that her knowledge of the infield fly rule gave her credibility in the wild world of sports. She also found she was all alone in Kennewick, Washington, and thinking of me. She wrote me a letter.

Meanwhile, I was writing these pages for the first time–on the major league side. In the process, I was thinking of how cool Michelle was. I was also worried–I had heard through very indirect channels that Michelle had gotten married and

no images were found

had become very sick, perhaps even died. I remarked on that on the Kingdome page! So when Michelle wrote me, I actually wrote back “Glad to hear you’re alive!” Weird. I took my sweet time popping the question…and three and a half years later, we were celebrating at Everett.

All Michelle and I wanted was to get a few seats and a chicken dinner. But the group sales representative we worked with at the AquaSox must not get a tremendous amount of rehearsal dinners. She went crazy-nuts and was thrilled to work with us! Right off the bat, she said: “Of course, someone from your party would need to throw out a first pitch that night, and we’d want to get your guests in the game for some of our onfield promotions!”

We were thrilled. But then we were concerned.

If anything was going to break up our marriage before it got started, it would be an argument over which of us got to throw out the first pitch. So Michelle emailed to ask if we could have two first pitches–one for each of us. We got the following response: “I will reserve TWO first pitches as well (unless one of you would rather sing the national anthem J)” Weird emoticon–I think it means she was being sarcastic. But singing the National Anthem at a ballgame is one of my lifelong dreams. I called her from work the second I saw the email and asked if she was serious. She asked this: “Can you sing?” Yes, I can. Then, this: “Are you going to go Roseanne or Janet Jackson on me?” I’m too patriotic to do the former and not chesty enough to do the latter. “Okay. You’re on.”

Thus it came to pass that Michelle walked the red carpet to deliver the first pitch of the game (well, one of about a half-dozen “first” pitches). We practiced for months…Michelle wanted to throw from the rubber and didn’t want it to bounce. When we started practicing in the spring, she could only get the ball about 45

feet. But the practice paid off. Michelle threw from the mound, just in front of the rubber. The ball made it to catcher J.B. Tucker on the fly–and out of the six first pitches, hers was the only one not to bounce. When she walked up to have her picture taken with Mr. Tucker, Michelle was going to say “This is my last night as a single gal!” I had even authorized a quick tryst at home plate, but Michelle chickened out and said nothing. Your loss, J.B. Tucker.

Next up: the National Anthem. I had worked on it for several days. The big question: do I go up the fourth on the word “Free”? If I start in the right key, I can pull that off. I had made other decisions beyond any shadow of a doubt: I would go with a fairly slow tempo (hey, this is my moment, I want it to last). I would slow down just a hair at the end of every quatrain. I would smile on “That our flag was still there,” thus giving the line the warmth it deserves. And then, if it felt right, I’d go up the fourth. It all worked out, except maybe going up the fourth. I hit the note all right, but had trouble getting off it (there was a minor glitch at the end of the note–I noticed, but nobody else said they did).

In any event, the best part was the cheering from my friends and family. My buddy J.J. snapped this picture, which happens to be one of my favorite pictures of all time. It’s me singing, but more importantly, it’s nearly everyone I love in the world in the top four rows of the first full section from the left. All of my buddies and family are looking off at the flag–except for my mom and dad, who are looking down at me.

Things went on from there. Michelle was the “Sweetheart of the Game” for the second time (and at the second stadium) in a month.

My Uncle Rick won a hundred bucks in a remote-control car race when he totally T-boned his opponent. My nephew Henry tried to throw plastic fish into a net his dad was holding…but unfortunately, he threw the fishes over his shoulder–north–while his dad was standing east of him. My new father-in-law had to decide whether to take an AquaSox cap or “what’s in the car” (which, the PA guy said, is a Mark Goodson/Bill Todman production distributed by KingWorld). He took the car, and was rewarded with a $50 gift certificate. Our friend Monika guessed the movie trivia question right (“Some Like It Hot”). Some younger guests got to run around the bases, one of them in a race against Webbly. And, to top it all off, the night ended with fireworks!

As those fireworks died off, we had all enjoyed the perfect rehearsal dinner. It was a celebration of baseball, and of Michelle and I, to be sure. But it turned out to be a huge party and celebration of all of our friends and family as well. The fireworks were an absolutely perfect way to finish off the evening–it felt like they were for Michelle and me, and a thank you to everyone for heading out. Our only big worry was that the game would be so fun that it would eclipse the ceremony and reception the next day. It didn’t. The game was exactly what we wanted to launch us into our wedding, and our marriage.

BASEBALL STUFF WE SAW THAT NIGHT:

The Dust Devils’ Jason van Kooten and James Sweeney were the batting stars. van Kooten had a double and a triple, and both van Kooten and Sweeney had two RBI.

colorado rockies affiliates, low level single a, minor league, north carolina, south atlantic league

McCormick Field, Asheville, North Carolina

July 6, 2009 Paul Comment

McCormick Field, Asheville, NORTH CAROLINA

Number of states: 11
States to go: 39

Number of games: 2
First game: April 15, 2005 (Kannapolis Intimidators 1, Asheville Tourists 0)
Most recent game: July 21, 2006 (Columbus Catfish 11, Asheville Tourists 10)

(Click any image to see a larger version.)

I have to say that one of my favorite aspects of the quest to attend a minor league ballpark in every state is the sheer fact that I get to go to cities I’ve never been before, and likely would never have made it to were it not for my quest. I had next-to-no knowledge of Asheville before I finished my 2005 Spring Break baseball trip there. A buddy of mine went to high school there, but beyond that, Asheville was a spot on the map and nothing else. What a pleasure it was to find this

place…a granola college town (like Eugene or Boulder, two spots I’m more familiar with) dropped in among beautiful foothills.

How granola was it, you ask? Well, I started my evening at the Raven Grill downtown. There, I was greeted by Jill, a sweetheart waitress in standard granola-issue bandana and piercings. She gave me a big smile, sat me by the window, and handed me a menu. I took a look and…uh-oh…I had landed in a vegan restaurant. I thought I was in big trouble. I’m allergic to soy, and vegan food, at least to my knowledge, is exclusively

made of soy. But I didn’t want to find another place to eat, and I was curious. Plus, they had The Ultimate Nachos on the menu. Vegan nachos? What’s the cheese? Probably soy. I asked Jill. “It’s not soy-based. It’s our Raven Cheese. It’s made from cashews.” Cashew cheese? Whoa! Could go either way. So I went ahead and had myself some vegan nachos. They arrived, and I looked at the faux-cheese, and I dipped in…

They were delicious! I want to go back to Asheville just for the vegan nachos! I even thought of returning after the game for the live music…but when I heard that the headliner was somethingorother-the-fiddler, I decided to take a pass. Not a big fan of the fiddle music. But if you’re in Asheville, this is a fine place to go. Treat yourself to the vegan nachos, try to catch some music, and say hi to Jill.

The ballpark is just down the hill from downtown–the lights are visible from Biltmore street, the main downtown drag. McCormick Field is quite literally carved out of the side of a hill, which I found quite striking. The concourse along the

third base side looks straight out at the carved-away hill, which I found lovely. The top of the hill features Veterans Memorial Stadium, the home of soccer and women’s pro football. I didn’t make the trip up, but I bet that the bleachers up there afford an excellent bird’s-eye view of McCormick Field. The views are therefore enough to lead the ballpark to pass the is-there-any-question-where-you-are test.

The Tourists, additionally, know how to put on a show. I firmly believe that they manage to walk the balance-beam and provide an excellent night out for both casual fans and purists. For the casual fan, there’s plenty of action on the first-base side of the park as far as promotions and places for kids to jump around and play. The gift shop features more hats than any minor league gift shop I’ve ever seen–hats for the entire South Atlantic League, the entire Rockies’ system, a few other minor league clubs, and a good chunk of the majors. There are frequent wacky promotions on the field, and many opportunities for the fine residents of Asheville to win (unless I’m in town…but more on that later). If you’re a purist, however, Asheville has you covered too. Lineups are prominently displayed in the pavilion. Additionally, each section (at least where I was sitting) has an usher who will go get you food or drink and bring it to your seat. There’s no need to take your eyes off the field at any time.

Me? Well, I’m a purist, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy some of the same things the casual fan does. And tonight…man, did I ever. It started before the game. They were selling tennis balls for the toss-the-tennis-balls-into-the-hula-hoops-on-the-field competition. I

bought four balls to toss after the game. Then I entered the trivia contest. The question: Which former Tourist hit the game-winning home run for the Rockies against the Padres on opening day 2005? It was multiple choice. Two of the choices, Jason Jennings and Todd Helton, I eliminated immediately: I’d remember if it was a pitcher, and I’d remember if it was Helton. That left me to randomly choose between Clint Barmes and Garrett Atkins, neither of whom I’d quite heard of yet. I picked Barmes–he sounded vaguely familiar–and sat down for the game. I only wish that they had asked for our address as part of the contest…that way, I would have heard “Our winner in the trivia competition tonight is Paul Hamann from…[pause]…Redmond, Washington?” But that’s okay. They said my name. I WON!

I waited several innings for a suitable break (tough to do when you’re at a game alone and are scoring it) and ran out for my prize. They were closing down the prize shack by then–so they sent me to the gift shop. They didn’t have it either. They promised me that I could come back after the game. I didn’t tell them this, but I didn’t need a prize. In the trivia competition, it’s all about the glory of competition.

So I waited through to the end of the game. It was a barnburner–a real pitchers’ duel. Quite tense. Afterwards, I headed to the side of the field to play the tennis ball throw game. Now, I assumed that the rules were the

same as they are at my home minor league park in Everett, and that getting the ball into a more-distant hula hoop would merit a larger prize. I knew I didn’t have the arm to win a year’s worth of free gas (the hoop in center field), so I didn’t even try–in part because the gas was from a local gas station. Quite inconvenient for me. So I aimed for the second-closest hoop…and on my last try…what do you know! I won again! They announced my name again! I showed I was superior in both mind and body! I was a real celebrity!

Now it was time to claim my multiple prizes. I headed out to the gift shop and gave them my name. They knew it. “Oh yeah! You’re the guy who won twice!” And what did I win? For the trivia contest…a twelve-pack of Sierra Mist. For the hula-hoop competition…in my view, much more difficult to win…well, I won my choice of prizes from a box of cheap crap. (I selected a computer mouse in the shape and color of Jeff Gordon’s car.)

Immediately, I was faced with a problem. What the hell was I going to do with a twelve-pack of Sierra Mist? I was literally 12 hours from flying back home to Seattle. I wasn’t going to make it a carry-on, and I wasn’t going to pack it and have it explode all over my stuff. This left me with the following choices: 1. Drink the 12-pack overnight, and get up every 30 minutes to pee. 2. Give it away.

I chose option #2…but who was deserving? I thought of giving it to my usher, who had so wonderfully served me all night, but couldn’t find her. I knew nobody in town. But a solution was walking by me right through the concourse.

The Kannapolis Intimidators were on their way to their bus. They had just finished their hard-fought victory. Surely they were thirsty! I caught one of the stragglers and said: “Hey, I just won this, but I’m not going to take it back to Seattle with me. Do you think you and the team might like this?” He said it was a wonderful gesture and that they would love it. I asked for his name. He told me he was hitting coach Ryan Long, thanked me, and went on his way.

I admit to being a nerd, but what followed gave me a cheap thrill. Because McCormick Field is set up on the side of a hill, the concourse

looks out directly into the bus. Therefore, I was able to watch while my twelve-pack was passed back from row to row and the Intimidators took them out. I then thought I would try to take a picture of the guy in the last row enjoying his Sierra Mist. He caught me trying to take his picture–he must have thought I was a complete freak–and started mugging for the camera. I mimed to him to raise his can of soda. He did. I took the picture. Of course, it was a stupid idea…trying to take a picture at night through a tinted bus window…but if you look closely here, although you cannot see the player, you can see the gift I gave him…the green can of refreshing celebration, his victory Sierra Mist.

Of course, what good is a gift if the person doesn’t know it’s a gift? I mean, if my loved ones just suddenly got things they wanted at Christmas but didn’t know I gave them, that wouldn’t exactly be the spirit of giving, would it? So I wanted to let this guy know that I had given him his can of Sierra Mist. Miming that is extremely difficult. The conversation went like this:

ME: [points at player] [mimes drinking motion] [rapidly repeats pointing at player and miming drinking motion] [points elaborately at myself]

PLAYER: [shrugs with palms up]

ME: [repeats the points-at-player drinking-motion points-at-myself combination, all the while mouthing the words “THE DRINK. IT’S FROM ME.”]

PLAYER: [extends fist with thumb and pinkie extended out and shakes it…the sign for “hang loose.”]

So either he got the message or totally didn’t.

But hey! Kannapolis Intimidators! If EVER any of you read this, and remembers this night and that delicious can of lemon-lime goodness, remember…it was from me! And if any of you happen to find your way to a lucrative major-league contract, and want to repay me, I’ll accept anything from an email to a thank you to game tickets.

It was one of those nights where the stories piled one on top of another, and the folks at beautiful McCormick Field are responsible for the lion’s share of those memories. They understood that a ballgame can be simultaneous experiences–first and foremost about the game, but also about wackiness accompanying the game. I got wonderful doses of each on this night, and did it all in a gorgeous small city. If I can help it, I’ll be back to McCormick Field, and if you have a chance, you should go there yourself. It was one of the best minor league ballparks I’ve ever seen, and I suspect it will remain that way for good.

UPDATE 2006: It’s still marvelous. I went back with my wife, and the place is still wonderful. They no longer sell affiliate hats in the gift shop, but the guy who sells programs asked us where we were going. The game was one of the worst I’ve ever seen (unlike the wonderful 2005 game), but this ballpark remains a hit.

The saddest part of that trip: it appeared the Raven Grill had closed.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 9/10
Beautifully settled into the Great Smokies. It fits perfectly into the Mountain South.

Charm: 5/5
Loads. Both within the ballpark and without…this is everything a minor league ballpark should be.

Spectacle: 5/5
Ideal combination of cool promotions–of which I was the king–but deference to the game. Again, the standard by which all else should be measured.

Team mascot/name: 4/5

Ted E. Tourist and me. The mascot is better on the hat than in person…I prefer Ted E. dressed as a tourist than as this generic bear.

Aesthetics: 5/5

As gorgeous as they come, especially from within the pavilion. Seriously–carved out of a hillside? That’s lovely.

Pavilion area: 5/5
Active and fun on the first-base side; lovely on the third-base side.

Scoreability: 3/5

Kannapolis had hit a home run to lead off the second inning, but the scorekeeper didn’t have the run up as late as the end of that inning. Otherwise, fine.

Fans: 1/5
The only real negative were the guys near me, who heckled every batter in the nearby on-deck circle by name–the entire game long. It got old in a big hurry. Surely they could cheer a little bit for their own team. Surely they could take an inning–or even a batter–off. Nope. They had anger issues that only the Kannapolis Intimidators could solve, I guess. Nothing significant happened in my second visit to change this first impression, which was deep and negative.

Intangibles: 5/5
I simply loved this place–and it loved me back. Seriously…two promotion wins and a chance to give a congratulations gift to the winning team? How cool is that?

TOTAL: 42/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

High-quality pitchers’ duel. Ray Liotta (no, not that Ray Liotta) pitched for Kannapolis, and beat Asheville’s Ching Lo. Both (and a handful of late relievers) were incredible on this night…Liotta struck out nine and gave up four hits in seven innings, Lo gave up three hits and struck out seven in seven innings. I’ll keep an eye out.

Josh Hansen homered.

I returned for a ballgame with the wife on the massive 2006 tri-point/baseball stadium tour. The game was the polar opposite of the original. We couldn’t even make it to the end, due to our need to move on…we left after 2.5 hours, and only in the fifth inning. The last thing we saw was Columbus’ Lucas May hitting a grand slam that tied the score at 8. Columbus eventually won–but by then, we were relaxing in the mountains near the Elicott Rock Tri-point. 34 hits, 13 walks, and 4 hours and 10 minutes.

georgia, low level single a, minor league, san francisco giants affiliates, south atlantic league

Lake Olmstead Stadium, Augusta, Georgia

July 6, 2009 Paul Comment

Lake Olmstead Stadium, Augusta, GEORGIA

State #: 10
States to go: 40

Number of games: 1
First game: April 14, 2005 (Augusta Green Jackets 10, Savannah Sand Gnats 2)

(Lake Olmstead Stadium is no longer used for affiliated baseball as of 2018.)
(Click on any image to see in in a larger size.)

First off, before I get to the ballpark, I must settle a grudge. This grudge is at least somewhat against orbitz.com and a little more against the Regency Inn Augusta.

Yeah, I know…I decided to go for the cheap hotel ($30) in Augusta. But I trusted Orbitz. $30? Cheap. Maybe I’ll get a cheap, clean, safe, utilitarian room, like a Motel 6 or Microtel or something…no sweat! Not what I got.

Maybe I should have been clued in by the long-haired dude in the Harley T-shirt who worked the desk. Would it kill him to dress professionally? But whatever…different strokes and all that. Maybe I should have been more suspicious of

the chick-in-too-much-makeup-and-slutty-clothes who was leaning up to the window of a pickup truck in the parking lot. But I went and gave the guy my $30. I walked past the weed-ridden pool area, weed-ridden balcony, weed-ridden walls. I checked out the brownish-yellow grout in the bathroom, the chipping-away sink. I felt yucky. I headed back out past the half-naked guys on cellphones on the balcony (there might have been six guys staying in the 148-room place) to go to the ballgame. I noted that the too-much-makeup woman was now seated on the curb. Waiting. For something.

Well, I’d had it. I was nervous from feeling yucky and even a little bit from dreading the possibly unsafe walk back to my room after the game. So I called Orbitz to tell them I was disappointed that this place (a two-star place, no less…not a one-star!) was a place they had listed. He called the manager to ask if he’d refund my money. The manager refused. The nice guy at Orbitz said he’d look into getting the Regency Inn removed from Orbitz. But as of this writing, it’s still there. So, I must say this:

DO NOT STAY AT THE REGENCY INN AUGUSTA. It is scary and gross. And while you’re at it, you’d do well to use Expedia or Hotwire or such to book your hotels until Orbitz yanks that rathole from its otherwise-fine website.

(There! Now, if two people find this page while looking for a hotel in Augusta, and decide not to stay at the Regency, then the manager’s decision not to refund my money will COST him money! Email me if you were dissuaded from the Regency by reading this. You’ll make my day.)

Okay. I chalked up the $30 as lost to a learning experience, booked a new hotel to reduce my stress level, and headed out to Lake Olmstead Stadium.

The ballpark is attractive on the exterior. It feels newer than the 10 years old it is…they’re obviously taking care of the ballpark. It was the home opener that night, so the bunting added a festive touch. It’s located across the street from the actual Lake Olmstead, a lovely sportsman’s spot for the Augusta area. I wish the ballpark were a little closer to the lake, but that’s rather nit-picky. The ballpark is adjacent to a very poorly-maintained baseball field, which detracts a bit from the charm…surely either they or the city could spend a few bucks to get that field up to Little League condition so that kids could play right next to the grown-ups.

Once inside the ballpark, I didn’t notice a lot that showed me I was in Georgia, or even in the South. Only the climate helped. Still, the ballpark had some nice

charm about it. The visitors’ pitchers sit about fifteen feet above the field just to the foul side of the right-field foul pole in sort of a spartan skybox. No chance of heckling them, sure, but they probably have a nice view, and it’s a nice visual for the rest of us.

The game event itself didn’t do a whole lot for me. I do believe that the nickname is one of the best in the minors–it marvelously incorporates what Augusta is most famous for into a nice pun with a suitable mascot. Sting (will Gordon Sumner sue the GreenJackets to get his name back?) is one of only two mascots who has ever actually spoken to me. You see, when I went to have my picture taken with him, I started up conversation. I asked him what his name is. He pointed to his gluteus maximus, where an insect’s stinger would be. I played along, lightly. “Your name is Butt? Rear end? Tush? Smells?” I think the guy probably didn’t like those jokes, because he leaned in to me, and in a basso profundo way deeper than his famous namesake’s high tenor, said: “Sting.” I told him I didn’t think he was allowed to talk. He shook his head no, and indicated to me that I should keep hush-hush about it. Don’t worry, Sting. I won’t tell anyone. Except for whoever reads this.

On the whole…pretty good. A nice ballpark in many ways, but I can’t say it blew me away, mostly due to a lack of local character. I may go back someday, but I sure as hell won’t stay at the Regency Inn.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 4/10
I didn’t get much beyond the nickname.

Charm: 4/5
Quite nice–brick and iron, well taken care of.

Spectacle: 3/5
A little quiet for single-A ball.

Team Mascot/Name: 4.5/5

Sting and me, just after Sting spoke. LOVE the name of the club.

Aesthetics: 3.5/5
Not much in the way of a view, but the park itself was quite lovely.

Pavilion area: 2.5/5
Not much going on there.

Scoreability: 3/5

Fans: 3.5/5
Nice folks. Nobody really talked to me, though, and I like it when they do.

Intangibles: 3/5
I admit I was in a bad mood due to earlier events, and it was also a lousy game. But it still hung in there.

TOTAL: 31/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

After taking the lead on an early Steve Mortimer home run, Savannah fell apart. Brian Horwitz went 4-for-5 with two doubles. Simon Klink went 3-for-5 with 3 RBI. GreenJackets pitchers combined on a 4-hitter.

Sand Gnats manager Randy Knorr was ejected–he thought Marvin Lowrance’s foul ball was actually a home run. Lowrance reached on an error and eventually scored anyway. All that yelling and the play didn’t make any difference. But dude, check out his post-ejection expression! Combination sulk/pout!

minor league, northwest league, oregon, san francisco giants affiliates, short season single a

Keizer Stadium/Volcanoes Stadium, Keizer, Oregon

July 6, 2009 Paul 1 Comment

Keizer Stadium, Keizer, OREGON

Number of states: still 8
States to go: 42
Number of games: 8
First game: September 5, 2004 (Everett AquaSox 15, Salem-Keizer Volcanoes 5)
Most recent game: August 21, 2011 (Boise Hawks 9, Salem-Keizer Volcanoes 2)

I sure hope that my in-laws aren’t offended by the score of this ballpark. I made it down to Salem-Keizer for the last game of the 2004 Northwest League season, on my first visit to Michelle The Fiancee’s parents since Michelle had changed to that title from Michelle The Girlfriend. They gamely agreed to blitz down to Salem from their home south of Portland to see my final Northwest League stadium. We hoped it would be a critical game, with Everett needing a win to force a tie salemkeizersign in the Northwest League’s Western Division. Alas, it didn’t turn out that way–Vancouver clinched the division with a win earlier that day. Still, this was a good chance to chill with the in-laws-to-be. While the company was good, the ballpark was charmless and left a lot to be desired.

Location, location, location! Keizer Stadium ain’t got it. For starters, Keizer is a small suburb of almost-as-small Salem; it’s about as far north of Salem as you can get and still be connected. Indeed, it’s far out enough that there’s nothing north of it except cows, at least as far as I can see. There’s nothing south of it but, you know, boring suburban stuff. Were it not for Oregon’s mountains in the distance (which were, on this September Sunday at least, almost entirely obscured by smog and haze), I wouldn’t have the remotest clue where in the United States I am while in Keizer Stadium.

This leads me to the main issue I have with Keizer Stadium: I-5 is only a good cutoff throw from the right-field fence. This salemkeizertrain means that interstate traffic is close enough that I can hear it throughout the game; close enough that I can smell the exhaust. Just past the interstate is a train track, over which several freight trains traveled during the game. This could have been enjoyable–to quote Paul Simon, “everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance”–but I couldn’t hear the train over the damn traffic noise. All of this eliminates any hope that Keizer Stadium has for real atmosphere. It has all the atmosphere of a Denny’s parking lot just off the exit ramp.

I was especially disturbed by the playground down the right field line. It just doesn’t feel right to have kids playing so close to semis blitzing by on their way to Portland and Seattle. Maybe salemkeizerplayground it’s just the teacher’s instinct in me, but there was something freaky–and sort of unfun–about the atmosphere on that playground.

Even with the disadvantage of the location, I don’t feel that the Volcanoes’ people did much to make the best of it. For starters, lineups weren’t posted anywhere on the concourse. There were some nice places to walk–I like the picnic tables down the left-field line and the grassy area beyond the left-field fence. But it’s strange–when I asked the ushers where I could find lineups listed, they looked at me like it was the most bizarre request they’d ever received. Seems to me that someone would have asked before me.

Keizer Stadium featured one lovely flower arrangement made to look like a baseball. However, it was put salemkeizernumber in a place where nobody could really see it except the right fielder..it’s just the other side of the fence from third base. Those seated down the first-base line wouldn’t have an angle to see that it’s a baseball, and everyone else wouldn’t see it at all.

And while we’re at it, the numbers on the back of the Volcanoes’ jerseys are very nearly unreadable. Does anybody want to hazard a guess as to what this man’s jersey number is? 28, 23, 29?

I did ask Michelle The Fiancee’s Dad what his coming to bat song would be. He said, not surprisingly, the Marine Corps Hymn. Not a bad choice. Mine? “Superball” by salemkeizerhostfamilies Aimee Mann, though I’m willing to consider other options.

There was a sweet pre-game ceremony where the Volcanoes players walked out to give a gift to and thank their host families. It reminded me of senior night for high school sports teams, where players walk out and give their moms and dads bouquets. It can’t be easy to be on your own in a minor-league town far away from home when you’re 18 or 19 years old.

Here’s another question t salemkeizerfromlf hat came up during the endless game. As you can probably guess, I never leave games early…and in this game, I was rewarded. The Volcanoes came roaring back from a 15-4 ninth-inning deficit only to fall short 15-5. But the fifth run meant a free burger (or something…it was so late at night that we headed home, and I never got it). To the patient go the rewards. My bride-to-be and her parents were having a very good time, so I didn’t feel like I was detaining them, but I’d like to announce publicly that I would have left this one early if they’d needed to.

So, in spite of the fact that I didn’t like the ballpark much and don’t plan on returning, a fun time was had just chilling with the fiancee and her parents. I accomplished what I wanted to–I made it to all 8 Northwest League ballparks. It had been a fun 2004–13 ballparks in 8 states (14 in 9 if you count the rainout). Count on at least a couple more of these in 2005. And in the process, I hope to see a few more scenes like this one, which features the Volcanoes’ John Odom.

salemkeizerodom

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 5/10
Very little going for the ballpark here. There’s a view of Oregon’s mountains beyond right field (mostly obscured by haze), and trains running by past the interstate, but for the most part, this could have been any distant suburb off of any interstate in America.

Charm: 1.5 /5
Very little. There’s a reason I don’t have a house by the interstate–noise, dirt, and atmosphere–and for the same reasons, I don’t want my ballparks close enough to hear I-5 tractor-trailers.

Spectacle: 3/5
Fine. Not great for short-season A ball.

Team mascot/name: 3.5/5
salemkeizermascot
Crater and I squint into the sun…see how his pupils are almost nonexistent? Yeah, it’s a dinosaur…which has been done (Dinger in Colorado), but I’ll tolerate it for a team called the Volcanoes. One goofy-looking guy, Crater is.

Aesthetics: 1/5
Not a pretty place, either on the exterior or interior.

Pavilion area: 2/5
Not much going on…a little playground in the shadow of the interstate, a lot of cement with nothing too fun going on, and most importantly, no lineups. That’s inexcusable.

Scoreability: 2.5/5
Although there were no lineups available, the Salem-Keizer folk did a decent job staying updated on the scoreboard, although they did misspell Brian Schweiger’s name (“Scheiger”).

Fans: 4/5
A little quiet, but I was impressed by the crowd for the last game of the year. I was even more impressed by the July 4 crowd a few years later.

Intangibles: 1/5
It might have been the suburban location, the damn interstate, or a terrible game, but this place did absolutely nothing for me.

TOTAL: 23.5/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

A bloody-awful game, featuring 29 hits and 20 runs. Everett’s attack featured round-trippers by Oswaldo Navarro (to lead off the game), Mike Wilson, Brandon Green, and Elvis Cruz. After the latter’s homer, Salem-Keizer’s PA announcer announced “Elvis has left the building.” I bet Cruz has NEVER heard that one before…although I confess I said it before the PA guy did.

Simon Klink homered for the Volcanoes.

Patrick Rose homers for Tri-City in 2008.

Craig Westcott pitches seven scoreless innings to lead Salem-Keizer to a 7-0 win over Tri-City in Game 3 of the 2009 Northwest League Championship Series. Evan Crawford goes 3-for-3 with two doubles for the Volcanoes, who wind up finishing off the best-of-5 series the next night.

canada, former oakland as affiliates, minor league, northwest league, short season single a, toronto blue jays affiliates

Nat Bailey Stadium, Vancouver, British Columbia

July 6, 2009 Paul 1 Comment

Nat Bailey Stadium, Vancouver, British Columbia

Number of states: still 8 (but one province!)
States to go: 42
Number of games: 1
First game: August 29, 2004 (Everett AquaSox 5, Vancouver Canadians 3)

I had purchased the engagement ring about ten days earlier. It had been sitting in my sock drawer. Michelle The Girlfriend and I had been together for about two and a half years, and I was getting tired of her being merely at Girlfriend status. Indeed, I had considered popping the question to her on our trip earlier that summer to the Oregon Coast–the Second Annual Paul and Michelle Minor League Trip, which included Tacoma, Eugene, and Portland. But I wasn’t quite ready then. Indeed, while sitting across the table from her at Mo’s Restaurant in Newport, Oregon, I confessed that I had thought about popping the question to her, but wasn’t quite ready. Did she cry? Get bitchy? Nope. She just gave a half smile and said something like “Whatever.” She understood my need to, as she put it, “look at it from 20 different angles and upside-down before making a decision.” If anything, that assured I’d get that ring–she was breathtakingly patient with me and very understanding of–and even fond of–my quirks. So it didn’t take long. And on August 29, 2004, the day before school began, the day when we went to Nat Bailey Stadium–this would be the day I asked.

At some point early in our relationship, long before marriage had crossed our minds in any serious way, Michelle had warned me: if I dared propose at a sporting event, she would walk out of said sporting event and I’d never see her again. That works for me.

I’m fairly into my private intimate moments being both private and intimate, and not public like the guy I saw propose to his girlfriend at Dwyer Stadium in Batavia, NY. So I knew the rules. But when I think of Michelle and our best moments, they usually involve random road trips, baseball, and hanging out. In fact, in honor of this, I gave Michelle a birthday card that year that said something like: “We need to go bowling in Canada…[open card]…That way we can always talk about how fun it was that time we went bowling in Canada.” Michelle repeatedly mentioned that card in the months following her birthday and the need to bowl in Canada. So that set up our weekend road trip: wake up early, put the ring in my jeans pocket while Michelle wasn’t looking, find a bowling alley south of Vancouver that would be open at 10AM on a Sunday (Michelle, trip-planner extraordinaire did that), and then zip up to Nat Bailey Stadium to catch a critical matchup between Everett and Vancouver, who were battling for the Western Division title. After that…well…I had plans.

Michelle beat me at bowling. That says more about my bowling abilities than about hers. (Sorry, babe.)

How good a ballpark was Nat Bailey Stadium? Good enough to make me forget

the stresses of the day. I even stopped feeling in my pocket for the ring. At first, before arriving, I thought the ballpark’s location was a bit unfortunate…it’s within Vancouver’s city limits, but very much a suburban spot. However, I was won over when I got there. The stadium is wedged between Queen Elizabeth Park, which provides for lovely views past the outfield wall of dog-walkers headed through the trees, and Hillcrest Park, which featured a nice, large, friendly pickup soccer match for the locals and a spiral slide for Michelle. A lovely place to be.

Nat Bailey Stadium has as nice an atmosphere and as respectful an attitude towards its past as any ballpark I’ve ever been to. This is best exemplified in its pavilion area. I’m usually not thrilled with a cementy area under the bleachers, completely devoid of any natural light. But at Nat Bailey Stadium, the pictures, exhibits, and history on display made the pavilion into a place I could have spent hours. I had just finished reading Ball Four when I made it to Vancouver, so I wanted to see the 1969 Vancouver Mounties photo. Sure enough, there it was, featuring many of the people Jim Bouton described in his book. There were a number of newspaper accounts of key games from Nat Bailey stadium in the past, most notably a piece about an appearance Babe Ruth made there. (Or was it Mickey Mantle? I had a lot on my mind that day and could be remembering it wrong. I do think it was Ruth, though.) I’m enough of a nerd that I most enjoyed an article featuring Hilly Hathaway, whom I saw get one of his four major league wins. I just loved meandering around that place, reading the articles covering baseball over the past many years. It reminded me of Wichita and Spokane, two other places whose pavilion areas were de facto museums of local baseball history. All minor league parks should have something like it.

Michelle and I parked ourselves in the front row, just short of Vancouver’s dugout. It turned out we

were seated only a few feet away from Vancouver’s coaches. This meant I got to hear umpire/coach conversation, and, as a sports official, I thoroughly enjoy this. Today was better than most.

Vancouver’s pitching coach, I was pleased to see, was Craig Lefferts, whom I remember totally owning my ’84 Tigers in the World Series. He looks like he’s still in awfully good shape, and as good a pitcher as he was and as long as he stuck around, I think that the pitchers in the Oakland system are fortunate to have him. He seemed to be a good-natured guy, holding conversations with the fans behind the dugout in an easygoing manner that led me to believe that he had talked to these folks every game. I even got to hear him politely–but firmly–yell at the home plate umpire about a pitch he felt caught the corner. The conversation

went something like this:

CRAIG LEFFERTS: Where was that, blue?!!
HOME PLATE UMPIRE (removing his mask): I don’t want to hear it!
CL: My catcher didn’t even move his glove!
HPU: I’m right here, and you’re way over there! You can’t see it!
CL: I know my catcher wouldn’t set up off the plate!

As I see it, the umpire here was being a little bit of a hothead…Lefferts’ questions/complaints aren’t exactly rude, and hardly merited the removal of a mask and the subsequent hollering. Lefferts hadn’t said anything all day prior to that. But then, it had been a long season…maybe there had been previous encounters I don’t know about.

A little more interesting to me was the batting coach, Todd Steverson. In looking at his career, he seems to mirror Billy Beane–the first-round pick with loads of promise who never quite makes it. Perhaps that explains Todd’s behavior on this day–maybe he has a bit of a chip

on his shoulder, because in the fourth inning, he got tossed. The play was a double-play call against the Canadians. Steverson felt that the pitcher, who was finishing off a 3-6-1 double play, was pulled off the bag by the throw. From my angle, he was thrown off the bag, but landed on it again before the batter, Landon Powell, got there. Good call, Blue. But Steverson had a fascinating way of arguing. Did he say: “No! He was pulled off the bag!” Nope. Did he say: “Oh, you blew that one!” Nope. Steverson immediately started shouting–and repeating three times!–the following complaint: “You suck, Blue! You suck! You suck!” What the hell is that? That’s terribly juvenile behavior…Steverson is living down to the stereotype of ballplayers with that kind of garbage. And what’s more, it’s not even clever! It’s fourth-grade level. If you’re going to bitch and moan, at least be creative about it. Or, to put it in a way that Mr. Steverson might more easily understand: You suck, Steverson. A very rare combination of immature, whiny, and lame! Anyway, back to the game. The second base umpire rightly tossed Steverson, who then ran out onto the field to get his last complaints in before leaving. The only problem with the base umpire, as I see it, is that he was smiling when he ejected Steverson. To me, that betrays a little weakness…he’d have done better to have stayed poker-faced.

I cannot locate the names of either umpire for that game, but here’s my prediction: out of these four main characters (Lefferts, Steverson, and the two umpires), only Lefferts will make it to the majors as a coach or umpire.

More about the ballpark: It is unabashedly minor league in so many ways…encountering ballplayers making phone calls in the pavilion (probably expensive to make an international cell phone call), loads of promotions, a between-innings archery exhibition…it was nicely put together. A good day of entertainment. I insist that Canadians are more polite than Americans, and that this leads to a sweet atmosphere at the ballpark–and it means that even a large city like Vancouver can have a

small-towny feel to it. I even felt like the font of the concession stand lettering had a retro feel to it, making me feel like I was in a ballpark in the early ’50s. Does that make any sense? I especially enjoyed the foresty views of Queen Elizabeth Park. They seem to have everything I like in a ballpark. On my visit, there were flyers being past around that said something like “Save Nat Bailey Stadium.” I hope they succeed. This is an old place, but clearly a loved and lovable place, and one of the better minor league ballparks I’ve ever seen. I’d like to see it stay.

Michelle and I head home. This is the Sunday night before school starts and I have to abandon Michelle for nine more months while I tackle student essays. I tell her I’d like to go out to eat. I try to very calmly say “where would you like to go?” She says I get to decide. I tell her I’d like to go to the Five Spot restaurant, which is where we had our first date. I stop at a rest area and sneak off to make a phone call without her knowing. I ask the guy at the restaurant to set aside the table where we met on our first date. He does. I think I’m being all suave, but Michelle insists she knew what I was up to. She thinks I suggest the Five Spot a bit too eagerly. She even thinks (she later tells me) she sees me checking my pocket for something…I know it wasn’t the ring, it was a cell phone, but Michelle thinks it’s the ring. I spend the three hour drive home thinking about the best times I’ve had with this woman–many of them at ballparks, many of them documented here. It seems appropriate that I should ask Michelle to marry me after a ballgame. I’m happy and excited–not really scared-nervous, but psyched-nervous. We get to the restaurant. The table is ours. I order my dinner. I ask for an entire pitcher of water (Michelle later says this was a CERTAIN giveaway of my plans.) I tell her that this is where it all started between us, and that this is where I’d like to start something else. I produce the ring and set it on the table.

At that moment, an unfortunate waitress happens to set Michelle’s Diet Coke next to her. I say “Will you marry me?” The waitress literally runs away.

Michelle The Girlfriend became Michelle The Fiancée at that moment.

Man, but I love baseball. And I love this exceedingly cool woman who accompanies me to games even more.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 8.5/10
For one thing, the ballpark is in the middle of The Queen’s Park–so I know I’m in Canada. The suburban location isn’t perfect, but once inside, there’s not a question I’m in Canada…just enough maple leaves and Canadian promotions to push this score high.

Charm: 5/5
Very much so. There’s something sort of your-father’s-baseball-park charming about the whole place.

Spectacle: 3.5/5
A bit calm, which I usually like, but my short-season-A ball can be a little more frenetic between innings.

Team mascot/name: 2.5/5
The name is fine, if a little generic. No mascot.

Aesthetics: 4.5/5
Absolutely lovely throughout.

Pavilion area: 5/5
Absolutely fantastic. Ex-Canadians’ pictures on the wall, old newspaper clippings, and old team photos intermingle with old-timey concession stands…I could have spent the whole down in the tunnel. You know I like a pavilion if it’s not open-air and I give it a perfect score.

Scoreability: 4/5
No problems here.

Fans: 3.5/5
They seemed to be nice people, and close friends with Craig Lefferts, who talked to them throughout the game. Not too many of them, though.

Intangibles: 5/5
A beautiful ballpark with a sense of charm and history. Plus, I’ll always associate it with getting engaged later that night.

TOTAL: 41.5/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

Everett’s Brandon Green had the key hit, a two-run game-untying single in the eighth inning off pitcher Adiel Sanchez’s leg and into right field.

The Canadians couldn’t solve Aaron Trolia’s pitching…he shut down Vancouver for 6 1/3.

Mark Lowe came on to get the save.

DeVault Stadium, Bristol, VIRGINIA

Number of states: 15 States to go: 35

First game: July 23, 2006 (Johnson City Cardinals 5, Bristol Sox 2)

Raley Field, Sacramento, CALIFORNIA

Number of states: still 13 States to go: 37

Number of games: 1 First game: July 3, 2006 (Salt Lake Bees 2, Sacrameto RiverCats 0)

John Thurman Field, Modesto, CALIFORNIA

Number of states: still 13 States to go: 37

First game: July 2, 2006 (Modesto Nuts 6, San Jose Giants 3)

Municipal Stadium, San Jose, CALIFORNIA

Number of states: still 13 States to go: 37

First game: July 1, 2006 (San Jose Giants 5, Modesto Nuts 1)

The Diamond, Lake Elsinore, CALIFORNIA

Number of states: 13 States to go: 37

Number of games: 1 April 7, 2006 (Lake Elsinore Storm 3, Lancaster JetHawks 1)

Paul and Michelle’s Love And Baseball Rehearsal Dinner Extravaganza

Everett Memorial Stadium, Everett, WASHINGTON Number of states: still 11 States to go: 39

July 29, 2005 (Tri-City Dust Devils 9, Everett AquaSox 3)

McCormick Field, Asheville, NORTH CAROLINA

Number of states: 11 States to go: 39

Number of games: 2 First game: April 15, 2005 (Kannapolis Intimidators 1, Asheville Tourists 0) Most recent game: July 21, 2006 (Columbus Catfish 11, Asheville Tourists 10)

Lake Olmstead Stadium, Augusta, GEORGIA

State #: 10 States to go: 40

Number of games: 1 First game: April 14, 2005 (Augusta Green Jackets 10, Savannah Sand Gnats 2)

Keizer Stadium, Keizer, OREGON

Number of states: still 8 States to go: 42 Number of games: 8 First game: September 5, 2004 (Everett AquaSox 15, Salem-Keizer Volcanoes 5) Most recent game: August 21, 2011 (Boise Hawks 9, Salem-Keizer Volcanoes 2)

Nat Bailey Stadium, Vancouver, British Columbia

Number of states: still 8 (but one province!) States to go: 42 Number of games: 1 First game: August 29, 2004 (Everett AquaSox 5, Vancouver Canadians 3)

Number of states: 15
States to go: 35

Number of states: still 13
States to go: 37

Number of games: 1
First game: July 3, 2006 (Salt Lake Bees 2, Sacrameto RiverCats 0)

Number of states: still 13
States to go: 37

Number of states: still 13
States to go: 37

Number of states: 13
States to go: 37

Number of games: 1
April 7, 2006 (Lake Elsinore Storm 3, Lancaster JetHawks 1)

Everett Memorial Stadium, Everett, WASHINGTON
Number of states: still 11
States to go: 39

Number of states: 11
States to go: 39

Number of games: 2
First game: April 15, 2005 (Kannapolis Intimidators 1, Asheville Tourists 0)
Most recent game: July 21, 2006 (Columbus Catfish 11, Asheville Tourists 10)

State #: 10
States to go: 40

Number of games: 1
First game: April 14, 2005 (Augusta Green Jackets 10, Savannah Sand Gnats 2)

Number of states: still 8
States to go: 42
Number of games: 8
First game: September 5, 2004 (Everett AquaSox 15, Salem-Keizer Volcanoes 5)
Most recent game: August 21, 2011 (Boise Hawks 9, Salem-Keizer Volcanoes 2)

Number of states: still 8 (but one province!)
States to go: 42
Number of games: 1
First game: August 29, 2004 (Everett AquaSox 5, Vancouver Canadians 3)