Category Archives: minor league

Ballparks of the affiliated Minor Leagues.

former los angeles dodgers affiliates, minor league, nevada, pacific coast league, triple a

Cashman Field, Las Vegas, Nevada

July 6, 2009 Paul Comment

WE’RE MOVING!

This page will only be here through 6/29, but I am saving these (and adding new parks as I see them) here, at paulsballparks.substack.com. See you on the other side!

Cashman Field, Las Vegas, NEVADA

Number of states: 12
States to go: 38

Number of games: 1
First and last game: April 6, 2006 (Las Vegas 51s 7, Fresno Grizzlies 2)

(Cashman Field is no longer used for baseball as of the 2019 season.)
(Click on any image to see a larger version.)

2006 marked my third trip to Las Vegas. I had been twice earlier for my fantasy football league’s draft (recommended…nothing’s more fun than drafting on a Saturday, then watching all the games at the same time on a Sunday), and as a result, all I had ever experienced of Las Vegas–and, for that matter, of Nevada–was the airport and the

Strip. A $15 cab ride from the Stratosphere at the north end of the Strip changed all that. It brought me to Cashman Field and a chilly April opening night for the Las Vegas 51s. I was quite pleased with what I found there.

First, let me state a point of confusion. I’m not 100% sure what the name of this place is. The signs on the outside call it Cashman Stadium, but the 51’s website refers to it as Cashman Field. The place is obviously in the midst of some terrible identity crisis. With contradictory information, I’m going to go with “Field.” The place is fairly small, and therefore feels more like a field than a stadium to me.

The most important part of my ballpark rankings is regional feel. I want there to be no question where in the U.S. I am when I’m sitting in the stands of a ballpark. What would that look like in Vegas? Slots? Showgirls? Garish neon? That’s not exactly a good

thing at a ballpark. Cashman Field goes another direction: it provides a quiet oasis from what one normally associates with Las Vegas, and I appreciate that a good deal. There were very few promotions–which I like when the baseball is AAA-quality. All we have to tell us we’re in Vegas are a combination of palm trees and desert mountains past the outfield fence. (Yes, I know that we have palm trees and desert vistas in southern California. But I know that I’m not in Southern California because I can SEE the mountains here.)

So while “quiet oasis” isn’t exactly what one thinks of when one thinks of Las Vegas, I like the feel and will rank it high in the “regional feel” category. When I’m in Las Vegas, my brain can only handle three days of the sensory overload, and even then, I can get a little overwhelmed by the constant lights and BINGBINGBINGBINGBING sounds of the place. Surely I’m not the only tourist who feels that way. Unfortunately, we’ve grown to have almost as much bingbingbing in our ballparks as at a Vegas casino. When I’m enjoying high-quality AAA baseball, I don’t need it. Cashman Field recognizes this, and even winks at Vegas’ reputation with a cool “only in Vegas” advertising that rings the inside of the ballpark (things like “We love the night games” and “All hits, all the time.”) The net result was a positive night at the ballpark.

Architecturally, the place has positives and negatives. Like all three of the warm-weather ballparks

I visited on this trip, it offers the ability to watch the game while on the concourse buying food (especially welcome for most of the fans on this Thirsty Thursday Dollar Beer night). I do like being able to motor around the ballpark without sacrificing my ability to score the game. There are grassy hill areas by both foul poles, but there is no trespassing on the grass. When I was there, I thought that was a shame, because I was picturing that being a nice place to picnic on gorgeous desert summer nights…but then, the next night in Lake Elsinore, I realized they were actually just preventing eight-year-old boys from beating the crap out of each other, a common activity on such hills. On the negative side, its setting is well north of the strip and downtown, and it adjoins a

convention center and some sort of museum, which makes it a little nondescript. There’s nothing interesting about its external architecture. Although I like the combination of tans and reds, Cashman Field’s connection to other buildings takes away any interest in its footprint (and makes my traditional pregame hike-around-the-ballpark a lot more taxing and arduous, especially on the bum knee I lugged along). In the no-excuses department, I was really disappointed to find a prodigious amount of trash in the front row upon my arrival at the park. This was opening day! I guess they hadn’t bothered fully cleaning up since the last event there, which I believe was a major league tune-up at least four days prior.

Cashman Field has the kind of history-of-baseball-in-the-area stuff I like on its concourse, but they do some things that make it not as nice as it is in places where it’s done well (like Wichita or Spokane). They have a number of past greats for the Las Vegas Stars and other minor league ballclubs from the city, which I enjoyed, especially because I had not heard

of so many of the ballplayers, such as Paul Faries. They had Dodgers history mapped out as well. Even though the 51s are a Dodger affiliate, I didn’t care for these. I love Jackie Robinson and all, but because his story does not involve Las Vegas, his tribute seemed out of place. And it certainly seemed out of place when their walk of fame also featured famous movie aliens. Yes, that’s right…Tommy Lasorda is in the Hall of Fame with Jabba the Hut. I’m all for wackiness, but this has all the markings of a ballclub and stadium that is simply trying too hard. Ease up, guys. This sort of stuff is out of character for a ballpark where, for the most part, they let the baseball be the star.

Speaking of trying too hard, let’s talk for a second about the nickname

of 51s and the mascot: Hate them. I never, ever, want marketing to be so stinking obvious. Sure, I guess we could argue that the nickname is locally appropriate, but I don’t think that was the primary reason for its selection. It’s clear to me that the primary reason that the name was changed to 51s was to increase the number of fuzzy items that would be sold, as well as hats, etc. The alien they have on their hat isn’t even intimidating looking (like the guys from Independence Day). He looks wise and friendly (like E.T.). Don’t get me wrong: I loved E.T., and cried when I first saw it at age 12. But puh-leez. What’s on a hat should be something that shows pride, tradition, or elicits intimidation. The 51s go oh-for-three in that regard.

Opening Day 2006 in the minors meant there were replacement umpires on the field. The minor league umpires, after not enjoying a pay raise in nearly a decade, were given an offer whose

miniscule pay raise was almost entirely counteracted by raises in their health insurance deductible. When they struck to get a fair deal, Minor League Baseball decided to recruit replacement/scab umpires. News accounts said that the replacement umpires were recruited from college, high school, and even Little League.

This was the background for a fascinating conversation I overheard. A young guy in the stands came down to the front row during warmups and called some 51s player over. He was a striking ump. The players were very friendly and supportive; I think they were worried about what they’d see in the replacements. Also, many of them had likely risen through the minors alongside these umps. The players asked what they could do to help the umps. The ump said “Don’t go crazy, but if you could make it clear you don’t like a call, that’d help a lot.” Sure enough, there was an ejection that day…a Fresno player got run for arguing a called third strike. I feel like I know why.

This night also marked the first time my travels overlapped with the travels of someone else trying to make it to all the ballparks. I met Doug and Carrie. They’re a married couple

who were actually ahead of me in the quest to get to a minor league game in all fifty states! They had a little bit of an advantage in that both of them are in the military, so their jobs have brought them within driving distance of a lot more ballparks than most people. We enjoyed a long stretch of very nice conversation about ballparks. I liked Cashman Field a lot more than they did, as it turns out. We talked about major league parks we both have liked through the years–San Francisco, Kansas City, Boston. Carrie helped me with some missed scoring decisions. We were headed in opposite directions: I had just come from San Diego the night before, and they were on their way there the next night. Still, our paths crossed on this night, and I do hope they cross again. Guys, drop me an email if you’re ever headed up to the Pacific Northwest. Tacoma, Safeco, Everett, Portland, Salem…I’d love to join you. The pretzels are on me.

So, on the whole, a nice quiet night at a place where the baseball was in the foreground. It wasn’t a perfect ballpark, but on the whole, I felt like the 51s understood what a night at the ballpark should be about.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 8/10
I’m going against the grain on this one. The ballpark was not much at all what I picture Las Vegas to be, except for the lovely desert mountain views. But that’s what I liked about it, actually, so that’s why I give it a high score here. If Vegas is a desert of noise, this place was an oasis of quiet baseball.

Charm: 2.5/5
Occasionally overblown in this department.

Spectacle: 4/5
Very few promotions, which I like for AAA ball, but still enough appropriate distraction if that’s what one likes.

Team mascot/name: 1/5

Cosmo and me. Don’t like the name at all–never let your marketing be so transparent. And this guy is goofy-looking.

Aesthetics: 3/5
The park itself is a bit dumpy, but the mountain views are lovely.

Pavilion area: 3.5/5

Scoreability: 3.5/5
Missed a key scoring decision, and the scoreboard guy was a hair slow at times.

Fans: 2/5
This part was bizarre. Perhaps most surprisingly, most of the fans around me weren’t from Las Vegas. Not at all surprisingly, most of the fans on Dollar Beer Night were smashed and idiotic. Doug and Carrie actually brought this score up a point.

Intangibles: 5/5
I just kept enjoying how quiet it was, and what a nice break it was from the bingbingbing.

TOTAL: 32.5/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

The Grizzlies’ Brad Hennessey gives up 7 runs, but only 1 of them is earned due to 2 errors by his teammate Tomas de la Rosa’s 2 errors.

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

McCormick Field, Asheville, North Carolina

July 6, 2009 Paul Comment

WE’RE MOVING!

This page will only be here through 6/29, but I am saving these (and adding new parks as I see them) here, at paulsballparks.substack.com. See you on the other side!

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

WE’RE MOVING!

This page will only be here through 6/29, but I am saving these (and adding new parks as I see them) here, at paulsballparks.substack.com. See you on the other side!

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!

florida, florida state league, former cincinnati reds affiliates, high level single a, minor league

Ed Smith Stadium, Sarasota, Florida

July 6, 2009 Paul 2 Comments

WE’RE MOVING!

This page will only be here through 6/29, but I am saving these (and adding new parks as I see them) here, at paulsballparks.substack.com. See you on the other side!

sarasotainprogress

Ed Smith Stadium, Sarasota, FLORIDA

Number of states: 9
States to go: 41
Number of games: 1
First game: April 11, 2005 (Sarasota Reds 5, Dunedin Blue Jays 1)

Ed Smith Stadium and Sarasota were my introduction to the Florida State League and to the ballparks the big-league clubs use for their Spring Training. It was my introduction to High-A baseball and the Florida State League. While I was impressed with the quality of baseball I saw on this night–it’s a long way from the short-season ball I’m accustomed to seeing from my home minor-league team at Memorial Stadium in Everett–there was something missing about the entire sarasotafromrf culture of this ballpark that I’m concerned might be unique to the Florida State League and playing ball in a park that the big club uses in the spring.

First of all, there were only 237 fans in the ballpark. Sarasota is a town of 52,000 that was packed to the gills, I’m sure, with folks on their Spring Break like I was. Why only 237 fans? I have a hypothesis. As little as a week earlier, the residents of Sarasota could watch actual major leaguers in spring training games. Perhaps they feel like it’s not worth their time to watch high-A ball. Now, I haven’t seen a Major League Spring Training game (and it’s unlikely I will in the foreseeable future…you know, I’m a teacher and all that, and my spring break is in April). I’m certain I’d enjoy it if I ever did. But I have a suspicion that these aren’t as enjoyable to a guy who likes stories as minor league games are. The stories of a spring training are interesting…who’s headed up, who’s headed down, and the like. But the games? They don’t count. It’s not worth it to say they do. The primary purpose is not to win or lose, but to impress people. I suppose that one could argue the same in the minor leagues, and there’s a bit of truth to that. But the games count for something. The stories are deeper and longer…they are stories of multiple years, where spring training stories are about sarasotaretirednumbers who will be around that year.

Second, I feel like the town has adopted a major league club, not a minor league club. Unlike places like Yakima or Batavia, Sarasota didn’t have any “Past Sarasota Players Who Made The Majors” plaques lying around. The history they honored in the pavilion was Cincinnati’s history, not Sarasota’s. Cincinnati’s retired numbers on the wall? I think that’s wonderful for spring training, sure, but it feels dreadfully out of place for the minor league game. The kids are trying to make the show. After that, let’s worry about striving to retire the numbers. Plaques and sculptures in the pavilion dedicated to Cincinnati Reds history? Give me a break. Single-A ball is not the place for that. Leave them up for Spring Training, then focus on Florida after that. We’re about a thousand miles and three levels of ball from Cincinnati. Let’s celebrate who came from here, not the destination that many of them won’t ever see. sarasotafoulpole

This might also explain why such a wonderful night of baseball didn’t have the accoutrements I normally associate with minor league ball. It looked like there wasn’t a serious effort to get butts in the seats. There was no mascot, not a lot of music, few between-innings promotions, and very little excitement. Don’t get me wrong…I don’t want a circus. But I do want something to make it feel like the ballclub is happy I’ve come, sarasotabatsculpture particularly when I’ve come so far. But I get the sense that they don’t want, need, or expect a crowd. Perhaps they make their year’s worth of money during Spring Training…I don’t know. But I know it didn’t feel right.

I haven’t had a chance to see any other Florida State League teams play ball–but I’m wondering if they aren’t faced with similar issues. It feels to me like the high-A ballclubs are not valued for their own sake.

Anyhoo. Enough hypothesizing about an entire league on the basis of a sample size of one.

The ballpark was fairly antiseptic…a seating bowl stretching most of the way from bullpen to bullpen. There was no real sense of place here…were it not for the palm trees past the outfield wall, I would not have known where I was. I enjoyed the advertising for a plumbing company on the foul poles…it gave the park a small-town and minor-league feel that the Reds were so obviously trying to avoid. And there was one plaque of Ed Smith himself, a man “dedicated to service of the youth of Sarasota.” Beyond that: not much exciting or locally recognizable about Ed Smith Stadium.

I happened to be in Sarasota the same week that David, a fellow teacher at my Seattle-area school, was in Sarasota. So we hooked up 3200 miles from home for a ballgame with some Floridian buddies of his. A pleasant guys’ night out was sarasotafan had by all. We encountered this man a few seats away. He heckled ballplayers and umpires throughout the game. Normally this bugs me, but there was something about him that was kind of good-natured. It was interesting to hear him gradually damage his vocal cords as the game wore on. More head voice, fan–support with the diaphragm, not at the throat. sarasotacody

The best play of the game turned out to be turned in by this kid on the right, Cody. He got, by my count, over half of the foul balls that made it into the seats. My favorite came early in the game. A batter hit a foul ball down the right field line, beyond the stands. A kid wearing red, a few years older and a few pounds heavier than Cody, was seated just past first base. He was the only person interested in the foul ball, so he started running towards the ball…then walking when he thought he had it in the bag. But my boy Cody had a bead on it. He started on the third base side of home plate, and just sprinted towards the ball. The funniest part was when the kid in red first spotted him. He realized he was in trouble and started running. Cody, in spite of surrendering about an 80-yard head start, beat him to the ball. It was incredible. And for Cody, it wasn’t about gathering or hoarding the balls, it was about the chase. Like a fisherman letting his catch go, he always gave up the foul balls he gathered. He gave the kid in red that ball, and he gave me one. Strange…I still haven’t had a chance to give a foul ball to a kid, but a kid has given one to me. Hmmm.

I also saw a bizarre pregame near-incident. I don’t have to tell you what almost happened. All you have to do is look at the picture. That’s Will Hudson talking on the phone. As this photograph is being snapped, Miguel Perez, the catcher, #37, is in the process of repeating: “Look out! Heads up! Watch out!” Hudson, apparently engrossed in conversation, is not hearing it.

sarasotapregamemishap

The ball missed Hudson by an uncomfortably small distance. So remember, kids: Friends don’t let friends talk on cell phones on the field during long-toss.

So, to sum up: Great baseball. I’m just not sure anyone in Sarasota–including Reds’ staffers–is doing anything to convince people that a night of high-A ball can be a worthwhile night out–even more fun, in its own way, than spring training.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 3.5/10
There was loads of regional feel…but the region the Ohio River Valley. All I could find that said Sarasota to me was a plaque of Mr. Ed Smith and a few palm trees. Why not a little bit more to make me feel like I’m in Florida?

Charm: 2.5/5
Not a whole lot here. Fairly standard stadium.

Spectacle: 2/5
Next to none. If anything, I got a vibe of disinterest.

Team mascot/name: 1.5/5
No mascot. Under some circumstances, I’m okay with a name like “Reds” (as in the Appalachian League). Here, it just adds to the sense that the parent club is more important than these flesh-and-blood players in front of us.

Aesthetics: 2.5/5
Palm trees are pretty. The stadium is dull.

Pavilion area: 2.5/5
There was a little bit of a pavilion area–a couple of little deals pertaining to Reds history–but nothing terribly interesting or exciting. Lineups were posted with both uniform number and position–convenient. But it was, on the whole, an antiseptic, dreary place. Check out this picture of the pavilion just before the game begins. There’s nobody there and nothing to see.
sarasotaconcourse

Scoreability: 1.5/5
A few skipped decisions.

Fans: 1.5/5
Cody the foul ball kid was cool. The nearby heckler was nice to me, although annoying. But any park with an attendance of 237 won’t get a high score here.

Intangibles: 2/5
Great game and good company, but I get the sense that Sarasota–including those who run the club–do not believe a high-A baseball game is worth much time or effort.

TOTAL: 19.5/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

Sarasota’s fifth game as a Reds’ affiliate turned into the first win in their history as the Sarasota Reds.

Calvin Medlock, Kyle Edens, and David Shafer combined on a six-hitter.

Junior Ruiz went 4-for-4. Chris Dickerson homered.

(Written April 2005. Updated July 2009.)

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

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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

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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.

former philadelphia phillies affiliates, minor league, new york, new york-penn league, short season single a, st. louis cardinals affiliates

Dwyer Stadium, Batavia, New York

July 6, 2009 Paul 1 Comment

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Dwyer Stadium, Batavia, NEW YORK

Number of states: 8
States to go: 42
Number of games: 1
First game: July 26, 2004 (Batavia Muckdogs 6, Mahoning Valley Scrappers 2)

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

As I crossed back into the United States from Canada (and Skydome) to make New York the 8th state crossed off in the Minor League quest, the US was on a major terror watch due to the Democratic National Convention beginning in Boston. I figured it would be a tough time getting across the border. Here’s what transpired:

CUSTOMS GUY: Where are you coming from?
ME: Toronto.
CUSTOMS GUY: What were you doing there?
ME: Watching two baseball games.
CUSTOMS GUY: Where are you heading?
ME: Batavia. One more game, tomorrow night.
CUSTOMS GUY: Where are you from?
ME: Seattle.
CUSTOMS GUY: How do you afford this? Tickets, hotels, rental car?
ME: Well, it adds up, but I save up.

Isn’t it nice to know that, even at a moment when our country is in unique danger, that this customs guy cares enough about me to ask about my finances? I mean, not that I expect politeness or sensitivity from my government workers–I know better–but come on, isn’t this a little irrelevant and intrusive? Oh well–at least I wasn’t frisked.

Maybe the man’s status as a government worker isn’t to blame for this

exchange. Maybe it’s something as simple as his status as a resident of an Eastern state, where politeness isn’t valued that much. This gentleman served as a nice introduction to the brusque East from the polite Midwest and polite Canada. I’m glad I met him…it was essential preparation for the treatment my new friends would give me in Batavia the next night.

I had literally zero expectations for Batavia, a town of 80,000-ish about 40 minutes east of Buffalo. I’d never heard of it and hadn’t been anywhere near it before. What a pleasant surprise! It was a disarmingly charming small town–loads of parks and historic markers. Rather than dining at a chain fast food place, I had a sandwich made at a family-run deli

just a couple of blocks south of the ballpark. This kind of place doesn’t exist in a good chunk of the country–at least not in cities large enough to support minor-league baseball. If it weren’t cold and drizzly, I would have spent the entire day wandering around one of Batavia’s several large, tree-packed parks. As it is, I went down the road to LeRoy to enjoy the Jello Museum. Yes, I was excited to go–that kind of kitschy pop culture integrated with American history is right up my alley. I’ll lay off talking about it here and encourage you to check out the website if you’re at all interested.

The ballpark itself is smaller than most I’ve been to, even at the short-A level. There are three small segments which spread from just-beyond-first to just-beyond-third with significant gaps between the segments. This means that a spectator can walk from the pavilion straight out to the dugouts. There’s little in the way of decoration on the pavilion, but I like what there is: clearly, local schoolkids have made art as a part of a local anti-smoking campaign. Also, they have a very basic “Wall of Fame” listing every major league player or manager in history that had passed through Batavia on his way to the bigs. I’ve seen walls of fame before, but

only for superstars; this is the first I’ve seen that claims to be all-inclusive, honoring every major leaguer from Hall of Famers down to cups of coffee. (Even if they incorrectly changed “Dock Ellis” to “Doc Ellis.”) Additionally, the ballpark has a little table underneath the whiteboard with the starting lineups; this makes it far easier to write lineups in my scorebook than it has been for me anywhere else. These little things add up.

I must admit that, as much as I liked these touches, the fans are what made Batavia such a nice experience for me. A month or two before I went to Batavia, Sports Illustrated ran a nice piece on how big minor league baseball is in New York. The fine folks around me backed this up. First, I met an elderly couple who were clearly major Muckdogs supporters. Not only were they able to tell us a good deal about current Muckdogs, but had some sense of their fluctuating roster–who was on their way up to full-season A and who would be promoted to Batavia from the Gulf Coast League. Very impressive. The grandmotherly woman was kind enough to give me a NY/Penn League baseball. Thanks, kind stranger! The gentleman next to me was on a minor league trip through the Northeast. He’d made it from his home in Scranton up to Rochester, then to Batavia, eventually to get as far as Akron. Nice guy, although it appeared his wife would rather be elsewhere. The gentlemen

behind me were from Connecticut, and one of them was in his 35th year of teaching high school civics, which gave

us a lot to talk about. He, too, was traveling through a number of minor league ballparks in the Northeast. It was almost enough to get me to forget he was a Yankee fan…but not quite.

All of these folks were nice–and all of them turned on me mercilessly. Make no mistake…I deserved it. It happened in the fifth inning. Carl Galloway was at bat. I’m sitting in the front row just short of first base. Mr. Galloway checks his swing and sends a chopper off the tip of his bat down towards me. The ball takes a wicked ricochet off the base of the wall about six feet short of me, and I throw out my glove to attempt a backhand stab at it. Before I tell you the result of my attempt, please consider these two facts:

1. I had less than a second to react after the ball ricocheted off the wall.

2. As a result of going off the end of the bat and then the base of the wall, the ball had some nasty English on it.

Okay. The ball hit my glove, and I dropped it. It didn’t get back into the webbing. I could feel it hit the meat of my hand beneath my pinkie and spin right out past the flesh beneath my thumb. It was gone as soon as it was there.

Here’s where things went haywire. The Batavia crowd booed me relentlessly. Even my alleged friends

around me really let me have it. “Why didn’t you put down your scorebook?” shouted one. “Put an E10 in that scorebook! E10! E10!” shouted the Connecticut teacher. While I slammed my glove into the railing, hid my face in shame, and slunk to my seat, the first base coach retrieved the ball and handed it to the guy NEXT TO ME! Whatever…I already had a ball from the nice old lady.

But my so-called friends wouldn’t let me forget it! I know it was all in fun–Connecticut guy said as much by repeatedly saying “Welcome to the Eastern United States!” in the midst of his heckling. I have no idea how to respond to this kind of treatment. It feels like the second-grade boy and girl smacking and pinching each other to show they like each other. In the Eastern United States, apparently, when you like somebody, you verbally abuse them. I’ll stay in Seattle, thanks. But still, I can respect the cultural difference and even play along a little. And I could have prevented the whole problem by catching the damn ball to begin with.

From the small world department…As I looked at the program before the game, one of the Mahoning Valley Scrappers’ hometowns was the small suburb in which I teach. He was warming up just a few feet in front of me. I called him over and asked if he went to my high school. He had! My first year there was his senior year, and I didn’t teach him, so we didn’t know each other, but I asked if I could say hi to anybody when I got back home. He played on a tremendous high school team that wound up having four players drafted off of it…and this kid wasn’t one of them! Funny thing was that their team didn’t do very well–didn’t make the state playoffs, perhaps because the kids were more focused on the fact that there were scouts in the stands than they were on playing the game. Nice kid. Tim Montgomery is his name. He went 0-for-4, unfortunately, but brought a .270 average into the game. I’ll keep an eye out.

“Take Me Out to the Ballgame” was not sung in the seventh inning stretch at Batavia. It was pre-empted by a

no images were found

marriage proposal. The PA guy turned the microphone over to a man, pictured at left, who proposed to his girlfriend right there. “Say no! Say no!” the New York guys shouted, particularly the fat guy in the Bills cap who was most ruthless in making fun of me…clearly because fat guy is leading a lonely life, and would never have been able to make the catch that he ridiculed me for missing…yeah, I’m making fun of the guy now that I’m out of the state and he can’t hurt me…so what? Anyway, the marriage proposal was a success: the woman pictured here agreed to marry the man, in the words of his proposal, “a year from now, right here at the ballpark.”

A couple of thoughts about marriage proposals (and, indeed, marriages) at the ballpark. Michelle the Girlfriend and I love baseball, and indeed, baseball has been central to our relationship in many ways. She came up with the idea for the yearly July 4th Minor League Baseball trip, she keeps up on my website, she understands and tolerates this quest of mine, and she’s even competitive in my fantasy league. Indeed, we probably wouldn’t be together were it not for baseball…we reconciled four years after a breakup in part because Michelle got a job for a minor league team and found she missed me. But when the time comes for a marriage proposal, if I do it at the ballpark, Michelle has assured me she will never speak to me again. I share her distaste for the ballpark proposal. First of all, there’s the public aspect of it. It seems to me that asking and answering this question should be done privately. It’s a terribly intimate moment…why make it into a de facto reality TV show? That feels cheap and yucky to me. Also, how much pressure is there on the woman? Just once, I’d like to see a woman actually say no to a public proposal. It’d serve the guy right for pressuring her. Michelle and I have agreed that, when the day comes, we’ll have our rehearsal dinner at a minor league game, but that’s wildly different from the actual marriage–it’s a party, not a ceremony. I don’t want to have a thousand strangers looking on, four dozen kids chewing tobacco, or people publicly adjusting themselves as I become engaged or married. I certainly don’t want a mascot spraying silly string. I don’t want the recessional music to be “YMCA.” I don’t want a scoreboard to send us off on our honeymoon. I don’t understand why anyone else would. Nevertheless, I wish the happy couple luck, and hope they enjoy their wedding.

Dwyer Stadium was a very good experience for me–it has a homey, intimate feel, and I enjoyed my trip there. I’ll be back. I’ll spend some time preparing some insults for Fat Bills Hat Man and anyone else who comes after me, and I’ll field grounders for a month before the trip. I’ll show you guys.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 8/10
It felt like a small town–and a small Northeastern town at that.

Charm: 4.5/5
Right down to the kids’ drawings.

Spectacle: 3.5/5
Could have had a little more going on for short-season A ball, but not bad.

Team mascot/name: 4.5/5

Meet Maxwell T. Chomper. (Check out the kids mugging for the camera behind us.) I know that “Muckdogs” is a new name (fans told me that the Columbus minor league team sued to have Batavia drop its former “Clippers” nickname), and that it’s a bit nontraditional, but I absolutely love it. It’s locally appropriate, unique, intimidating, and fun all in one. Max could be dressed a little better, I think, but that’s a minor complaint.

Aesthetics: 3.5/5
Lots of trees, and has a small town beauty/charm about it.

Pavilion area: 4.5/5
I love the major league wall and the writing surface by the lineups.

Scoreability: 5/5
No problems at all–they quickly displayed all close scoring decisions. One of the best ballparks I’ve been to for this.

Fans: 4/5
Okay–so the fans were verbally abusive to umpires, opponents, and worst of all, to me. Nevertheless, they mean well–I’m willing to see beyond their social shortcomings and obvious anger issues to see how genuinely kind, gregarious, and knowledgeable they were.

Intangibles: 4.5/5
I really felt like this was a fun, enjoyable night of baseball–a great way to end my 2004 trip.

TOTAL: 42/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

Kind of a quiet game.

The big blow was Carl Galloway’s three-run home run for Batavia.

Marshall Szabo went 4-for-4 for Mahoning Valley.

Scrappers’ pitcher Tony Sipp looked like a possible star to me, striking out 7 over 2 2/3 innings, but his defense and wildness let him down. Still, I felt he looked strong–worth keeping an eye out for him.

Andy Baldwin allowed only six hits and one run over six innings for Batavia.

(Written August 2004. Score revised July 2009.)

former new york yankees affiliates, low level single a, michigan, midwest league, minor league, no longer in use

C.O. Brown Stadium, Battle Creek, Michigan

July 6, 2009 Paul Comment

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C.O. Brown Stadium, Battle Creek, MICHIGAN

Number of states: 7
States to go: 43
Number of games: 1
First and last game: July 20, 2004 (Battle Creek Yankees 3, West Michigan Whitecaps 2, 10 innings)

C.O. Brown Stadium is no longer in use for the affiliated minors as of the 2007 season.

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

Singing buddy Kristin and I found our way to Cereal City after experiencing the annoying shortcomings of South Bend and the always fantastic Wrigley Field. Since I had no experience with Battle Creek other than driving through it on I-94 a few times (sometimes it smells like Corn Flakes, other times like Froot Loops), I had no real expectations for the evening. What I got was quite a memorable ballgame, an extremely quirky ballpark, and a sense that I was a part of the dugout for the West Michigan Whitecaps.

The park’s location is fairly typical for single-A: it’s a part of a recreational complex, just the largest of about a half dozen fields on the site. The cool part about this is that, at least on the night I went, there were other

games to be seen on site. If Kristin and I had arrived earlier, we could have sat in on either of two other baseball games taking place (it may have been American Legion or AAU ball). It was here that I secured my only foul ball of the whole trip, but alas, it was not at the Yankees/Whitecaps game…it was one launched into the parking lot from one of the other games. I retrieved it and dutifully tossed it back.

I can’t for the life of me figure out how C.O. Brown Stadium came to be shaped exactly as it is. The largest block of seating is behind home plate, but there’s an almost-as-big block which hooks around the left-field foul pole. My best guess (indeed, my only guess) is that the older-looking seating area by the foul pole was, at one time, the only block of seats in the ballpark, and that home plate used to be over there. My theory then has the larger block built later on, and home plate moving but all the seating remaining. A friendly usher was unable to help me solve this conundrum, and I still can’t figure out why the ballpark looks that way. Quirky? Yes. Charming? That’s in the eye of the beholder.

Another quirky feature of the ballpark adds loads to its charm, however. Just past each dugout is a box of seats that juts out four or five rows

beyond the dugout and towards the field. Kristin and I had seats on the inside edge of that section, second row. That means that, by looking over our right shoulders, we were able to look directly into the visitors’ dugout. Any sense of privacy those players hoped to have was shot! I looked as players lifted barbells, chatted, high-fived, and watched the game. It made it very easy to root for West Michigan on that day.

Besides, just out of principle, I can’t root for any team nicknamed the “Yankees.” I’m annoyed that the team has this name. Battle Creek’s name was just changed in 2003, from the locally appropriate (and interesting) “Battle Cats.” Does George Steinbrenner think that everyone really wants to be like him? Worse yet, after the Yankee victory, the loudspeakers played “New York, New York.” Gimme a break! We’re not in New York, even if it’s what the players are striving for. You know the line “If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere?” Well, the players have to make it in Battle Creek first. Lay off that song, or at least relegate it to pregame somewhere.

As I meandered through the ballpark before the game, I saw a scoresheet on a table behind home plate on

the main walkway. Would the Yankees really put their official scorer out there with the people? I was astonished. Later, I found out that this was not at all true–but instead

was part of what I think is a fantastic promotion that balances my desire for promotions at the low-minor level without the concern that those promotions will interfere with the baseball. Spectators were given Bingo cards upon entry to the stadium with various possible outcomes on them, such as “Matt Carson walks” or “Nick Walsh doubles.” This means that fans must keep track of the game to fill out their bingo cards. The scorebook behind home plate was not the official scorekeeper, but was the Yankees’ worker keeping score–the guy the winner takes the bingo card to as soon as he/she has a bingo. I had never seen this before, and was quite impressed with the idea.

At the end of pregame warmups, Whitecap Juan Francia got on my good side by

delivering a baseball to a youngster next to me. What a stud–I hope he rises through the organization. He went 1-for-4 with a walk and a stolen base, as well as some flashy defensive play. But I’ll always remember him first for being a nice guy.

It was church night in Battle Creek, so I had to be on my best behavior. According to the Yankees, 361 of the 1,574 in attendance were a part of ten or twenty church groups that were in attendance. A chorister from one of the churches sang the National Anthem and bungled it badly–he started in a key so breathtakingly high that I turned to fellow singer Kristin and whispered “I’ll hate to hear ‘the rockets’ red glare.'” Sure enough, when he got there, he had to drop down an octave. Later, he sort of made up a melody for “land of the free” to dodge that high note as well. Singers–if you are to sing the National Anthem a cappella, I implore you to do the following: for a couple of minutes before you begin, sing “Oh say can you see” and “And the rockets’ red glare” back to back repeatedly. “Say” and “red glare” are the lowest and highest notes you’ll have to sing, unless you choose to go up the fourth on “land of the free” later on. This will prepare you for the anthem and avoid the situation this man found himself in. It always worked for me.

I don’t know if this was planned, but after the sixth inning, they gave the anthem singer another shot at the mike, this time to sing “How Great Thou Art.” I guess this was to celebrate church night. This led to a bizarre situation on the field and in both dugouts. How does one respond

to the singing of a religious hymn during a game? I admit, when the guy started singing, I stood and removed my cap…but as soon as I realized he was singing “How Great Thou Art” rather than “God Bless America” or another patriotic song, it occurred to me that it might not be appropriate to have my hat over my heart and standing at attention to the flag. This is not the national anthem. I passionately love my God and my country, but I passionately love them separately. Mixing them by observing the flag while singing a religious hymn felt wrong to me. However, I’d want to be respectful by standing in silence, just as I would stand in silence for a sacred song for any religion. So I was at a bit of a loss for what to do, and figured it would be worse for the players. Do the players look at the flag, stand reverently, or just go about their business? A quick look over my shoulder, however, revealed that West Michigan manager Matt Walbeck (who, until and including the previous season, had been a major league player) had his hat over his heart, and had beckoned his team to join him on the top of the dugout steps, which they did:

Seconds later, however, I think Walbeck realized that this wasn’t “America the Beautiful,” because by the time the singer got to “My savior God to thee,” Walbeck had run out of the dugout to his third-base coaching position, where he prepared for the inning. The Whitecaps’ players, at least a couple of whom must be Jewish or Muslim or agnostic or atheist, all of whom had until seconds earlier had been standing in reverent silence, had headed to the bat racks and benches, perhaps wondering what the heck had happened. And Wilton Reynolds, the designated hitter, had clearly realized the bizarreness of the situation, because he actually was doubled over in laughter. I made eye contact with him–I thought the whole thing was funny too. (Looking at the picture above, it looks like Vince Blue, #31, also senses something is awry.)

On the whole, this was a nice way to spend a muggy Michigan night–surrounded by nice people enjoying a ballgame at an old park. This also turned out to be one of the best minor league ballgames I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching. I’ll tell you about that under “Baseball stuff” below.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 6.5/10
Reasonable, with big Midwestern trees beyond the outfield wall and massive Midwestern clouds, but nothing really to denote Michigan or Battle Creek. I couldn’t even smell the Froot Loops until I was on my way out of town.

Charm: 4.5/5
Sure. Quirkiness and fans so close to the action that kids talked to the bullpen catcher as he warmed up pitchers.

Spectacle: 5/5
Excellent here. Understated and persistent–frequent between-innings action and the Bingo game tied right in with the baseball.

Team mascot/name: 2/5

The name change to Yankees was tragic, as the old “Battle Cats” paraphernalia on sale for half price was one of the saddest things I’ve seen. I hope Steinbrenner helped defray the costs. The mascot himself is Doodle–apparently a youngster or a very short individual. I like the name Doodle (get it?) a lot.

Aesthetics: 3/5
Sweet on the outside, but not too attractive on the inside (see below).

Pavilion area: 2.5/5
There was an area where kids were playing pickle, but it was far too small. Mostly, it was just prison-like cement.

Scoreability: 3/5
Numbers and names readily available in the pavilion, but by the seventh inning, the names they had on the scoreboard didn’t at all match the actual people at bat. It’s like the scoreboard people gave up. Good for a while, though.

Fans: 3.5/5
The church people were very nice in the conservative Midwestern way (and I mean that affectionately–not at all sarcastically or disparagingly). A few drunken louts nearby hurt the score.

Intangibles: 4.5/5
A great game where I felt like I was chatting with the players. Fun night.

TOTAL: 34.5/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

What a game! Mr. Walbeck has a little work to do in the managerial department, I’m afraid. The game’s star was Whitecap starter Virgil Vasquez, who cruised through eight innings of four-hit shutout ball. I was surprised to see him come back out for the ninth inning. Don’t they have pitch counts at A-level ball? Walbeck had a reliever, Eulogio de la Cruz, warmed up, and Vasquez had thrown quite a few pitches. Still, he struck out Matt Carson to start the inning, and things looked good for West Michigan. When third baseman Kody Kirkland kicked Erold Andrus’ liner, there was one on and one out, and I was thinking that one more baserunner and would bring out Walbeck with the hook. Bryce Kartler singled. Vasquez stayed on. A popout brought it to two on and two outs…then a laboring Vasquez walked John Urick. SURELY, I thought, this has to be it for Vasquez…he’s had a fine game, now de la Cruz can nail it down, right? Nope. Walbeck stuck with Vasquez. It turned out to be a bad move, as Tommy Rojas singled to tie the game with two unearned runs. Only then, too late, did Walbeck relieve Vasquez.

De la Cruz got out of the inning, but Battle Creek won in the tenth on Andrus’ RBI single. An angry Kody Kirkland, whose error made all of this possible, violently kicked a plastic cooler in the dugout on his way back to the clubhouse after the game.

Also, Garth McKinney homered for the Whitecaps. Party on, Garth. (I bet he’s never

heard that one before! Man, it just occurs to me that Garth would have been around 10 at the height of Wayne’s World…what a bummer of a time to be 10 and named Garth.)

(Written August 2004.)

chicago cubs affiliates, former arizona diamondbacks affiliates, indiana, low level single a, midwest league, minor league

Stanley Coveleski Stadium, South Bend, Indiana

July 6, 2009 Paul 1 Comment

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Stanley Coveleski Regional Stadium, South Bend, INDIANA

Number of states: 6
States to go: 44
Number of games: 1
First game: July 17, 2004 (Wisconsin Timber Rattlers 4, South Bend Silver Hawks 2)

(The ballpark is now known as Four WInds Field at Stanley Coveleski Stadium.)
(Click on any image to see a larger version.)

Stanley Coveleski Regional Stadium (or, as the locals call it, “the Cove”) is in a decent location as far as the “is there any doubt where you are” test. It’s hard up against a train station on one side–charming architecture that is visible above the right field stands. On the other side, there is the spire of what I assume to be a Catholic church in view. These two items in concert say South Bend to me, but on the inside, there’s little clue that I’m in Indiana.

College singing buddies Rob (of Three Rivers Stadium and Hooters fame), Kristin and I were fortunate to get seats in the front row behind the home dugout. I looked forward to watching the game, but something transpired which had never

occurred to me…when one is in the front row behind the dugout, one’s view is often obstructed by dancing mascots. Additionally, kids who wish to see the mascot frequently cascade down to the front row and make annoying child noises. I wonder why this problem had never occurred to me? Nevertheless, Swoop, the Silver Hawks’ mascot, is quite easily did the best job out of all mascots I have ever encountered. He was energetic, wacky, and fun throughout. For example, he and the alternate mascot (a child dressed in a giant mustachioed head) sat on the dugout and played spin the bottle with a couple of young women in the front row. Hilarity ensued! The mascot actually made me laugh a couple of times–a rarity. Nice going, Swoop. Now sit down and get out of my way.

Beyond the mascot, there were a whole lot of negatives about the Cove. For starters, let’s talk about the mini-bat. I buy a mini-bat at every minor league park I see a game at…they hang by a map of the US in my den. The quality of mini-bats in South Bend were unacceptably inferior. At first, I thought the bat was hollow, but I no longer think so–now, I believe it’s just made of a really chintzy light wood. Oh well–so it’s light, whatever. I set it on the ground and watched the game. When I picked up the bat at the end of the game, the paint had worn off of every part of the bat that had made contact with the ground. How bogus is this? So I headed off to the souvenir shop to trade it in, and had the following conversation:

ME: Can I trade this bat in for another? The paint has worn off the side.
CONCESSION WOMAN: Oh, they’re all like that.
ME: I know. Can I have another?
CW: No. You don’t understand. They’re all like that.
ME: I know…but this time I won’t do something awful with it like put it down.
CW: (gives me a very annoyed, angry look, then trades in the bat)

Arrrggh! I did wrap the bat carefully in a sweater, packed it up…and it’s made it back home without any damage. The fact that this bat was sold to me for an above average cost (usually I pay $4 or $5 for a bat…this was $5.25) leads me to think that they were all about squeezing off profits. This led me to realize that my hot dog was cold and my soda felt a bit watered-down…in combination, not a great feeling for the ballpark.

Worse, I didn’t have any idea what was happening due to an inferior program and unacceptably incomplete PA work. It was exceedingly difficult to score a game at Stanley Coveleski Regional Stadium. Sure, the lineups were accessible in the pavilion, but what about during the game? The PA announcer failed to announce three of the four relief pitchers that entered the game–he only announced the pitchers who entered mid-inning. This means the guy either didn’t notice that the pitcher was new (in spite of the umpire’s clear “new pitcher” signal) or didn’t think that we cared. We do care, PA guy. This left me in the position of figuring out the pitchers’ names on my own from the players’ numbers and my program. Or maybe not–much to my dismay, I found there was no opposing roster in the program, and I couldn’t seem to find a scorecard to buy. So I had to get the names of two Wisconsin relievers on the Timber Rattlers’ website later that night.

Even worse was a failure to announce the South Bend reliever who entered to pitch the ninth inning. After fruitlessly waiting for the PA guy to say his name, I figured I’d check to see who #33 was in the program. Incredibly, the players were listed alphabetically and without numbers! What was I supposed to do, guess at his height and weight?

This led to a wonderful moment–an explication of one of the reasons I like Rob so much. He’s so terribly pleasant and friendly, yet sorta crazy. As the pitcher is running off the field at the end of that inning, Rob shouts at the pitcher repeatedly: “What’s your name? Hey, 33, what’s your name? What’s your name??” #33 ignored the lunatic in the front row–I believe wisely. But Rob wasn’t done.

The first base coach for the Silver Hawks, #17, was headed out for the bottom of the ninth. Rob called out to him. “COACH! Hey, COACH!!!” #17 turned around. Rob said “Your pitcher. #33. What’s his name?” The baffled coach asked Rob to repeat himself a couple of times, and Rob did.

Then, the coach gave us the information we wanted, although it was hard to hear–but by cross-referencing our alphabetical program, we eventually were able to figure out what he was saying: “Cremidan. Alex Cremidan.” Thus it came to be that Alex Cremidan was given credit for his perfect ninth inning, including a strikeout. Now, coaching a minor league team is likely a challenging job in and of itself, so to willingly add the PA announcers’ duties to your own is a very selfless action. As a result, I’m very impressed with this coach, and would like to thank him by name in this public venue…but I can’t, because the Silver Hawks don’t have coaches listed on their website or by number in their program. Oh well. Thanks, #17.

One more complaint–the crowd, while mostly kind, did have one moment of ugliness. After flying to left field in the bottom of the seventh inning, third baseman Augie Murillo (if memory serves, this was the guy) was nearly drilled by a tennis ball thrown from the crowd as he returned to the dugout. They had sold tennis balls to be thrown into hula hoops on the field for prizes after the game, but someone decided to take a shot at a player instead. I was watching Augie head back to the dugout when the ball zinged by. He immediately looked up, and

with a few teammates, had ushers head towards the hooligan who threw it (although, given that Murillo’s head was down, I’m not sure how he could have known). Much to my surprise, rather than a nearby drunken guy, ushers ejected a woman who was at least 25 yards away. Quite an arm. “Was that her?” I asked Augie. He nodded. I love getting into conversations with these guys.

There’s a lot to like about this ballpark–its location, the cool multiple mascots, the grassy berm in the outfield spectators can suntan on, the dramatic Midwestern thunder cells in the distance reflecting a pink sunset. But I got an overall negative vibe from the place because of poor service from top to bottom, from the people selling the mini-bats all the way to the guy in the PA booth. When I add it all together, it’ll wind up near the bottom of the list, although with a new set of workers, I could see me returning someday and enjoying it far more.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel: 7 /10
Nice placement between a church and a railyard, but little inside the ballpark that says one is in Northern Indiana or Michiana (the horrible term locals use for the area).

Charm: 3.5/5
On and off. Liked the cars for car night, liked the outfield berm.

Spectacle: 4.5/5
Plenty good for the low minors.

Team mascot/name: 4/5

Swoop and I are in the left picture here, with the mysterious mustachioed kid-mascot to the right. Swoop is a fine name, and I like the multiple mascots, although Silver Hawks isn’t, to my knowledge anyway, local. (Update April 2008: The Silver Hawks, two of their fans have informed me, are named after the Studebaker Silver Hawk that was once manufactured near the stadium. Nice historical touch there.)

Aesthetics: 3.5 /5
Not too much in the way of beauty here, but a gorgeous thunderstorm in the distance helped.

Pavilion area: 3 /5
Just fine. A little dark and dreary, but a nice set of plaques commemorating South Bend baseball history, including one to Mr. Coveleski himself and a couple commemorating the stars of South Bend’s AAGPBA entry, the Belles.

Scoreability: 0/5
Horrible. Useless PA guy and useless program.

Fans: 2.5/5

While most were fine, I can’t overlook the violent lout who threw a ball at a player.

Intangibles: 0/5
On the whole, I just wasn’t impressed–I simply felt like profit was valued over service. Worse yet, they misspelled “Wisconsin” on the standings board! (They had an “o” where the second “i” is.)

TOTAL: 28/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

Wisconsin pitcher Nibaldo Acosta was the star of the day, scattering 9 hits over 8 innings, giving up only 1 run.

Wladimir Balentien homered.

(Written August 2004. Revised July 2009.)

detroit tigers affiliates, international league, minor league, ohio, triple a

Fifth Third Field, Toledo, Ohio

July 6, 2009 Paul Comment

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Fifth Third Field, Toledo, OHIO

Number of states: still 5 (rainout)
States to go: 45
Number of games: 0 (rainout, July 16, 2004)

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

I led off my 2004 summer ELABST trip in Toledo, where college buddy Kristin lived. Kristin expressed enthusiasm not only to host me and join me at Fifth Third Field, but to join me for the lion’s share of the tour. We showed up at Fifth Third Field. Alas, the game never began…the rain stopped a few times, just to tantalize us all,

and they even took off the tarp, announced lineups, and sang the anthem…but it was not meant to be.

Even though I spent three hours at the ballpark, I didn’t see a game here in Toledo, and I therefore cannot count Ohio in my state total, nor do I feel right giving the ballpark a score. I’m certain it would be a very high score–the ballpark is beautiful, nicely integrated into the warehouses of the neighborhood (in the picture at left, the stadium is the shorter building on the left). It also has local charm, including Toledo native Jamie Farr, wearing Corporal Klinger’s Mud Hens’ hat, making announcements on the scoreboard.

Question: Are the Mud Hens the only men’s pro team with a female nickname? They do have mascots of each gender…Muddy and–ready?–Muddonna. I took the time to pose with Muddonna. After all, I bought her namesake’s albums in junior high. The “Lucky Star” video…critical to my development as a heterosexual. You remember what those dancers on either side of her looked like? Me either. But I digress. I

like the idea of two genders for the mascot. It’s a bit of an affirmative action program for the furry.

In any event, in spite of the lack of score, I thought I’d throw in a few pictures to show what it’s like to be at a rainout at Fifth Third Field. See the tarp come off…hopes were high!…then see the tarp go back on. Oh well.

no images were found

(Written August 2004.)

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This page will only be here through 6/29, but I am saving these (and adding new parks as I see them) here, at paulsballparks.substack.com. See you on the other side!

Cashman Field, Las Vegas, NEVADA

Number of states: 12 States to go: 38

Number of games: 1 First and last game: April 6, 2006 (Las Vegas 51s 7, Fresno Grizzlies 2)

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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)

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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)

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Ed Smith Stadium, Sarasota, FLORIDA

Number of states: 9 States to go: 41 Number of games: 1 First game: April 11, 2005 (Sarasota Reds 5, Dunedin Blue Jays 1)

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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)

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This page will only be here through 6/29, but I am saving these (and adding new parks as I see them) here, at paulsballparks.substack.com. See you on the other side!

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)

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Dwyer Stadium, Batavia, NEW YORK

Number of states: 8 States to go: 42 Number of games: 1 First game: July 26, 2004 (Batavia Muckdogs 6, Mahoning Valley Scrappers 2)

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C.O. Brown Stadium, Battle Creek, MICHIGAN

Number of states: 7 States to go: 43 Number of games: 1 First and last game: July 20, 2004 (Battle Creek Yankees 3, West Michigan Whitecaps 2, 10 innings)

WE’RE MOVING!

This page will only be here through 6/29, but I am saving these (and adding new parks as I see them) here, at paulsballparks.substack.com. See you on the other side!

Stanley Coveleski Regional Stadium, South Bend, INDIANA

Number of states: 6 States to go: 44 Number of games: 1 First game: July 17, 2004 (Wisconsin Timber Rattlers 4, South Bend Silver Hawks 2)

WE’RE MOVING!

This page will only be here through 6/29, but I am saving these (and adding new parks as I see them) here, at paulsballparks.substack.com. See you on the other side!

Fifth Third Field, Toledo, OHIO

Number of states: still 5 (rainout) States to go: 45 Number of games: 0 (rainout, July 16, 2004)

Number of states: 12
States to go: 38

Number of games: 1
First and last game: April 6, 2006 (Las Vegas 51s 7, Fresno Grizzlies 2)

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: 9
States to go: 41
Number of games: 1
First game: April 11, 2005 (Sarasota Reds 5, Dunedin Blue Jays 1)

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)

Number of states: 8
States to go: 42
Number of games: 1
First game: July 26, 2004 (Batavia Muckdogs 6, Mahoning Valley Scrappers 2)

Number of states: 7
States to go: 43
Number of games: 1
First and last game: July 20, 2004 (Battle Creek Yankees 3, West Michigan Whitecaps 2, 10 innings)

Number of states: 6
States to go: 44
Number of games: 1
First game: July 17, 2004 (Wisconsin Timber Rattlers 4, South Bend Silver Hawks 2)

Number of states: still 5 (rainout)
States to go: 45
Number of games: 0 (rainout, July 16, 2004)