Tag Archives: utah ballparks

Lindquist Field, Ogden, Utah

Lindquist Field, Ogden, UTAH

State number:  still 31
States to go:  19

Number of games:  1
First game:  July 6, 2010 (Ogden Raptors 11, Orem Owlz 4)

Ogden is about 40 minutes north of Salt Lake City, so the family didn’t bother changing hotels and instead made a day trip out of it, wearing the boy down a little bit at the Ogden Children’s Museum (a good place) and dining at Great Harvest Bread before heading to the ballpark.

If possible, the views

past the outfield fence at Ogden were even more beautiful than they were at Salt Lake City, which is to say they were absolutely stunning.  It’s a slightly different set of mountains there in Ogden, and unless I’m mistaken, the ballpark is a little closer to the mountains than it was in Salt Lake, which made for a breathtaking vista from literally any seat in the ballpark.  The ballpark did reasonably well in commemorating Ogden baseball history, but even if it hadn’t, it would have aced the “Is There Any Question Where You Are” test.  Seriously.  Consider the view from behind home plate…we have an American flag, a Mormon temple, and gorgeous mountains.  If I were to put you in a controlled coma, whisk you to a seat behind home plate, then revive you and demand you state where you were in the US, that’d be all you needed.  Utah.  There were other nice touches–most notably some killer-looking burritos from a local chain–but I simply cannot imagine a more gorgeous place to enjoy a game.

The smallness of the place was also really fabulous.  One could nearly–but not quite–circumnavigate the stadium on the inside, and could enjoy some nice views while leaning over the left-field fence.  And before the game, I went down the left field line to a picnic area, where I was able to eavesdrop on a conversation between Owlz’ (Owlz’s?) catcher Hampton Tignor and pitcher Pill Joon Jang on exactly what their signs would be, and how they would change if there were a runner on second base.  If I had had a mind to (and been a rabid Raptor fan), I would have been able to jot it all down and run it right to the Raptors’ coaches.  Of course, I don’t take rookie league rivalries so seriously.  (Alas, some fans do.  The only two Pioneer League teams in Utah are sort of natural rivals,

which I don’t understand, since very few players are on either team for more than one year.  But still, one otherwise-sophisticated season-ticket holder showed up in an “Orem Sucks” T-shirt.  Not too clever…and probably a bit too angry.)

But they seem to get the idea of making fans happy.  They delivered balls to every kid they could see in the stands during the pre-game, including a ball for my son.  This was his second Pioneer League ball in two Pioneer League games…I had snagged him one in Missoula a year earlier.

So I was in a good mood.  My first impressions were overwhelmingly positive, but I did my level best not to get carried away.  You see, I’ve been burned before.  I fell in love with the ballpark in Missoula and then was driven away by the loudmouthed PA and the disgustingly

overdone promotions.  This was only my second Pioneer League game…what if the entire league was loud like that?  So I didn’t commit to loving the place immediately.

I was impressed with the ushers.  I might be putting two and two together incorrectly here, but the ushers were nearly all athletic-looking men in wheelchairs.  The 50/50 raffle that night went to support a wheelchair basketball team that may or may not have been associated with Ogden’s Weber State University.  So I concluded that the Raptors allow groups to be ushers in order to make a few bucks for their organizations.  Nice touch, I guess…give something to the community rather than just create a 10-week job for somebody.

Ogden didn’t wind up scoring as highly as I would like it to mostly because of a strange mix of trying too hard

and not trying hard enough.  They tried too hard in that they played stupid and only marginally-relevant sound effects between too many pitches.  I don’t mind a little spectacle at a low-level game like this, but they went overboard.  There was a spittoon sound effect that Michelle and I couldn’t figure out the purpose of.  Also, they introduced the evening with this completely inaccurate statement:  “Welcome to Lindquist Field, home of the Ogden Raptors and the Los Angeles Dodgers!”  Um…no.  I cannot find a way to interpret this sentence so that it is accurate unless the Dodgers move a weekday series against the Pirates or something to Lindquist Field.  At most, one or two rookie league ballers will ever smell the majors for even a cup of coffee, so this was optimistic at best and misleading at worst.  I wonder if the PA guy misspoke.  Even though there were a couple of funny moments–even a sometimes-too-sensitive referee like me giggled when the umpires were introduced to the Imperial Death March from Star Wars, and as the team was introduced, it was nice to hear the ever-danceable-but-mostly-forgotten “Walk the Dinosaur” by Was (Not Was)–overall, the sound effects got in the way rather than enhanced enjoyment.

In any event, more problems ensued when there were pitching changes and pinch hitters.  While lineups were posted (with the very cute “prey”

designation for the opponents), other than the starters listed in the pavilion, there were literally no uniform numbers given anywhere for the opposition.  We had a list of their players, but not their numbers.  Add to that the fact that the PA guy didn’t announce some pitching and defensive changes at all, and the net result was that I was at a complete loss as to who was playing late in the game.  I picked up that the Orem catcher changed in the ninth inning, for example, but had literally know way of knowing the new guy’s name…just his number.  This is only the second time I’ve been faced with such an egregious disregard for anyone curious as to who the substitutes might be (the first was in South Bend), and I have to say that I don’t like it one bit.  If the game management people had channeled even 25% of the energy they spent on irrelevant sound effects into communicating relevant information about the players–or, at the very least, provided a numerical roster–I’d have been much, much happier with the ballpark.

The evening did provide a wonderful and memorable moment involving my son–the first evidence that he pays attention to what happens on the field of play.  Steven was only 16 months old, this was his ninth ballpark in his fifth state, and his 20th game.  He’d started looking onto the field, but was easily distracted…and who’s to say that he’s really watching out there anyway?

Well, that all changed.  During the top of the ninth inning, the Orem Owlz’ Daniel Eichelberger was taking his

cuts in the on-deck circle.  Steven pointed at him and said the following:

“Three!”

Mr. Eichelberger wears #3 on his back, and at that moment, Steven was learning his numbers and letters pretty hard…and three was one of his favorites.  I can therefore say with confidence that Daniel Eichelberger was my son’s first favorite player.  I can also say that my son was actually paying attention to what went on on the field. He knew the opponents’ numbers better than the Raptors’ game management and PA guy did!

We thought that we’d be getting in well with the home Raptors by bringing Steven’s dinosaur jammies to change into for the

last couple of innings…but then he had to pick an Orem Owl as a favorite player.  But it’s the Raptors’ fault for not playing a player who wore #3.

The game ended quickly–just before dusk–which meant that we didn’t get to see something that Michelle was curious about.  We’re fairly sure that all Mormon places of worship light up their spires with their pointing Angel Moronis at night.  We’re wondering what that would have looked like after sunset.  I guess we’ll have to go back another time and see if we get a longer game to find out.

So, while these nit-picks drag down the score from very high to merely high, I still enjoyed this simply gorgeous ballpark in Ogden.  Anyone in northern Utah during the Rookie League season would do well to stop for a game here.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel:  10/10

I simply can’t imagine it any better than this.  That triumvirate of an American flag, LDS temple, and mountains means only Utah.  That, and some damn fine Mexican food.

Charm:  4/5
Very nice.  Sound guy tried a little too hard, but still, a winner  in this regard.

Spectacle:  3/5
A few too many between-pitches sounds,  many of them not at all relevant.  They can turn it down a notch during the game and limit the silliness to between batters or (preferably) between innings.

Team Mascot/Name:  3.5/5

I’m going to assume that there are a number of fossils found nearby, which means “Raptors” is fine.  Oggie himself doesn’t do much for me, however.

Aesthetics: 5/5
Flat-out gorgeous, and the park stays out of the way and emphasizes its surroundings.

Pavilion:  4.5/5
Can’t quite walk around the place, but one can come close.  Nice tributes to former Ogden players like Frank Robinson.  Up top, one never needs to lose sight of the game while getting food.

Scoreability:  1/5

I appreciate the lineups, but there is literally no way to figure out who was playing for the opposition.  No rosters were given with uniform numbers, and the PA guys were overtly apathetic about Orem lineup changes, both pitching and at the plate.  Needs a lot of work here.

Fans:  4/5
I like the cadre of regulars there.  They did a cool call-and-response thing during the opposing lineups. PA:  “PLAYING THIRD BASE…JAKE SMITH.”  Crowd:  “WHO?”  PA:  “Smith.”  Funny.  During the game, there was a little too much heckling for my tastes–if one is reduced to anger at a Rookie-League-level rivalry, one needs to reconsider one’s priorities.  But still, a cool group of people.

Intangibles:  4/5
A lot of good here–even the problems with game ops didn’t sour my taste of a beautiful ballpark that I one day hope to see again.

TOTAL: 39/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

Five Orem errors–including a lamentable three by Rolando Gomez–are far too much for the Owlz to overcome.

Daniel Eichelberger goes 2-for-4 with a double and an RBI.

Bobby Coyle is the hitting star for the Raptors, picking up 3 RBI, including one on this solo home run.

(Written July 2010.)

Spring Mobile Ballpark, Salt Lake City, Utah

Spring Mobile Ballpark, Salt Lake City, UTAH

Number of states: 31
States to go:  19

Number of games:  1
First game:  July 4, 2010 (Tacoma Rainiers 10, Salt Lake Bees 4)

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

2010 brought about perhaps the most ambitious 4th of July Minor League Baseball Road Trip in Hamann family history.  The first couple of years brought us the nearest

ballparks–Spokane, Tacoma, Salem-Keizer.  One year we flew to northern California.  But a friend’s wedding in Montana on July 12 led us to make 2010 a huge drive–all the way to Utah.  Add a toddler to the mix and the desire not to drive more than 4-5 hours in a day, and you’ve got yourself quite a trip.  It could have backfired horribly, but it actually went very well.  Three days from Portland, we found ourselves staying in downtown Salt Lake City, just a few blocks from the gorgeous Spring Mobile Ballpark.

The ballpark’s location is as excellent as you’d want any ballpark to be.  Since Salt Lake City has the fortune of being west of the mountains, unlike its unfortunate PCL cousin in Colorado Springs, there are gorgeous Rocky Mountain panoramas

visible from every seat in the ballpark.  The setting sun reflects off the mountains, making for an excellent distraction during the game.  And its quick, accessible location from downtown SLC is also quite welcome–I was able to walk there from my hotel in about 40 minutes, but there’s a ballpark stop on SLC’s light rail system, so that walk wasn’t really necessary.  While circumnavigating the stadium, as I like to do, wasn’t possible (maybe because of fireworks setup), there was still a good atmosphere set up for the July 4 game, with people lining up outside early.

My family was among those lining up early, since for the first time in my ballpark travels, I had secured general admission seats for a game.  We didn’t know we would be doing this trip until all other seats for the big fireworks game had sold out, so we grabbed our baseball picnic blanket, a

couple layers of clothing, sun goop, and a few toys for the boy, and prepared to set up for the game.

I knew that there would be a pretty big rush for the best spots in general admission, so we got to the ballpark early.  Michelle put Steven on our monkey leash, which was admired by our line-mates.  In fact, as she let him burn off steam on his leash, one octogenarian woman approached Michelle and complimented her on the choice to use the leash. She used to get a lot of lip from strangers back in the day, she said, so she was happy to see someone using it.  (This was an especially refreshing compliment after a batty old bag said something shitty to us about the leash the previous day at the Boise Zoo.)  Anyway, all was right with the world:  we were at the front of the line, and I knew where I wanted to sit on the

outfield berm.

But then something went wrong.  About ten minutes before the gates opened, an usher came by to zap everyone’s tickets.  Ours were invalid.  Huh?  I think they sent us multiple copies of the tickets and I printed out the wrong one.  I was a little annoyed when she told us to go to the main ticket office to get everything straightened out, since we’d lose our choice spot in line that I planned ahead for.  My wife–usually the one who gets upset at customer service–told me to chill out, that I could come back tomorrow if we got a lousy seat.  So I said goodbye to my wonderful line spot and went to the ticket booth, who worked out the problem.  We then got back to the back of the line.

Here’s where I became a big fan of the fine people of Utah.

While I was in the back of the line cursing my luck just a minute or two before the gates opened, incredibly, a woman came back to us from the front of the line and told us that nobody would mind if we went back to our previous spot. 

“You earned it…you were here early,” she said.  Highly grateful, we went back there and offered to buy anybody who wanted it something to drink.  Everyone declined.

Thanks, Utah.  I deeply appreciate your generous spirit…and actively seeking us out to bring us to the spot I wanted.

We immediately zipped to exactly the spot I wanted…about halfway up the berm, about thirty feet off the foul pole.  I figured that people would eventually edge in front of us, and they did…but from their spot, they had to peer through the fence.  Had we been up higher, we would have had to deal with many, many people walking around, in, and out in front of us.  Here, we almost never did.  People mostly honored (though not always, as the photo shows) the edict to stay back from the wall, so the view wasn’t actually all that bad. 

But the atmosphere, not surprisingly, wasn’t too baseball-based out on the picnic blankets.  And, while I’d be bugged by that in the stands, I was totally fine with that out on the grass.  It was a carnival-family atmosphere there that was kind of nice, and while that might sometimes bother me, enough people watched the Bees get slaughtered that one could follow the game without appearing strange.  It felt right to watch the ballgame surrounded by families hanging out together–I got the warm fuzzies.

Which led me to another realization.  I can barely remember what I did on July 4th before Michelle and I began this tradition eight years ago.  I seem to recall two ways to celebrate.  One was watching while your crazy neighbor set off illegal fireworks while listening for the cops.  The other was

finding a sanctioned show, setting up a blanket, and killing time for several hours while the sun set, sincerely hoping that rain didn’t ruin everything.  As a kid, I found those hours mercilessly boring.  Really, going to a ballpark just gives you a game to fill all those hours in with.  It was a nice feeling.  And, this being Utah, there were a lot of kids around.  Some watched the game, and some didn’t, but all were well behaved, perhaps because those who wanted to whale on each other were segregated off to the other side of the grassy hill, out of range of both the picnic blankets and the ballgame.  So really, what the fourth of July general-admission ticket does is provides something to do for the waiting period before the fireworks.  Sold.

The Bees did a fabulous job of providing stuff to look at between innings without negatively impacting the baseball experience.  There was nothing to interrupt the baseball, which was particularly important at such a high level.  And between-innings distractions were rather rare as well.  It wasn’t until after the game that I realized how masterful the Bees were at handling fan experience.  The fireworks didn’t get started until about 15-20 minutes after the final out.  In most ballparks, they might play a little music, but they mostly just make you wait. 

At Spring Mobile Ballpark, instead, they had several fan-participation promotions during the gap.  This shows such common sense that I can’t believe more teams don’t follow suit.  At the moment that people might get bored, when there’s no baseball to be seen–that’s the best possible moment to do some silly promotions and put them on the scoreboard.  It was a splendid idea and well-executed.

Speaking of promotions, this particular game featured a marriage proposal.  Now, I’m 100% on record as being against a ballpark marriage

proposal.  But this one was a little, um, strange.  There was a competition where two people had to sing the jingle for Whipple Plumbing (which is to the tune of Harry Belafonte’s “Banana Boat Song,” with “Whipple” where “Day-O” would be…I assume it’s ubiquitous in Utah for everyone to know it).  This man sang it (poorly), then a woman sang it and won.  But then it became clear that the man and woman knew each other because then the promotions guy said “Well, there’s one more thing to do…” and then let the man propose to the woman, who said yes.  I certainly wish them well…but I think they’ve set up a future problem.  When people ask them how he proposed, they’ll have to use the words “Plumbing” and “promotion” in their response.  In all honesty, even among ballpark proposals, this one is on the bottom side.  Why must all of our important life moments now be public rather than private?

Beyond this man’s marriage proposal, there were a couple ofsmall irritants I found at the ballpark.  While the stadium’s positioning next to the Rockies cements its local feel, I think they could have done better on the inside of the park to make this a place more

definitively Utahan.  For instance, they had many homages to baseball all-stars up throughout the ballpark.  But there was no connection to Utah.  I’d much prefer “Hall-Of-Famers from Utah” or “All-Stars who played in Salt Lake City.”  As it is, it felt incongruous.  More incongruous were the strange movie posters all around the joint.  I don’t care how much money they get for the posters, they didn’t fit in.  Additionally, they were for month-old movies that surely had already succeeded or failed at the box office on their own merits.  Who would go to get some nachos and decide they needed to see a film?

Still, there was much to love about this place, and its high score is richly deserved.  In fact, I loved it so much that I returned the next day, dropping $24 for a behind-home-plate ticket while my wonderful wife took care of the baby in the hotel.  But there was a major test that night…the baby was majorly cranky, and when I got a text from wife-at-her-wits-end, I left the game in the fourth inning–before it became official.  So I can only give myself credit for going to one game here, but I think I proved that, as much as I loved Spring Mobile Ballpark, I love my wife more.

I hope to return here.  It was simply gorgeous.

BALLPARK SCORE:

Regional feel:  7.5/10
I’d like a little more in the concourse to tell me I’m in Utah:  the baffling Hall of Fame baseball photos celebrate baseball history, but not local baseball history.  Nevertheless, you just can’t argue with that mountain view.

Charm:  4/5
Again, the view.  The ballpark itself is not terribly unique, but it’s still lovely.

Spectacle:  4.5/5
The Bees have mastered the art of well-timed promotions that do not detract from baseball.  And the fireworks show is one of the best I’ve ever seen.

Team Mascot/Name:  3.5/5


“Bees” is completely appropriate to Utah.  The mascot himself, Bumble doesn’t do too much for me (dull name), but isn’t too bad, either.

Aesthetics: 4.5/5
Lovely view.  Minor deduction for the ballpark itself being not gorgeous, but with the mountains, who cares?

Pavilion:  4/5
Like the circumnagivability of the place, and the way they segregate those who want to whale on each other from those who want to watch the game.  Would like a bit more local flavor.

Fans:  5/5
Lots of great people.  Wonderful human beings in the ticket line did my family and I a wonderful favor at absolutely no benefit to themselves.  They made their city and state look wonderful.

Intangibles:  5/5
Can’t argue with that first night there…a beautiful night, a fantastic pitching performance, and the best fireworks show I’ve seen at a ballgame (and I’ve seen a few).

TOTAL: 43.5/50

BASEBALL STUFF I’VE SEEN HERE:

The Rainiers’ Michael Pineda, a 21-year-old making only his 3rd Triple-A start, steals the show.  He throws 6 perfect innings before getting knocked around a little in the 7th, but appears to be a stud in the making.

Chris Woodward and Mike Carp provide the lion’s share of the offense.  Woodward gets three hits–two off battered starter Fernando Rodriguez–and Carp hits a mammoth home run over our heads in right field.

(Written July 2010.)