I was fortunate enough to attend today's rain-soaked Twins/Red Sox game at the shiny new Target Field and seeing as how this is a baseball blog and all, I figured you folk would probably be interested in how that went. Well, the Twins lost pretty soundly, but other than that, Target Field was quite the treat.
The stadium itself is nestled in the heart of the downtown Minneapolis's warehouse district, giving a bit of an old-timey feel to something so brand-spanking new. While parking is a bit of a beyotch (as parking usually tends to be in most places such as this) the walk to the stadium is interesting, and there was a definite sense of a gameday atmosphere (including a sign on a storefront that said simply: "BALL GAME TODAY"), something I imagine is normally pretty hard to cultivate but was actually achieved here somehow, some way. The fans were enthusiastic about their team and proud of their new future landmark to the point where the large mouth-breathing man with very interesting nostril hair behind me in the beer line--in between cracking jokes to people who had their hands full ("I can drink one for ya if that'll help!" or "Hey, got a light?" ... BA DUM BUM), the hokiest of stadium jokery--made a point to tell me about how long it had been since the Twins played outdoor baseball. But then it started raining and everyone ran away.
Well, not entirely, but not long after the first sprinkles fell there was a significant increase in outward bound aisle traffic; perhaps to just go buy a poncho or grab another brewski and hope the rain peters out before they get back, but the fact remains: Minnesotans love to complain about the weather. Winter's too cold (which I can agree with), and when summer--not even summer, but spring--rolls around, it's damn near immediately too hot. And after begging and begging their mayoral-daddy for outdoor baseball, they got it; it remains to be seen if they can handle all that big-boy responsibility that comes with having your own ballpark.
But another thing about Minnesotans, they love their food. And by "their" I mean "their." Local businesses made their presence known in this stadium (Kramarczuk's sausages are made fresh and delivered to the stadium daily), which points to one of my favorite things about this place: there is an unequivocal level of local pride here, beyond just baseball and food. Minnesotans love their own musicians, their own breweries, their own home-grown ballplayers (Maaaauuuuuerrrr!!), although not to the point of snobbishness. They don't turn their nose up at Wisconsin cheese curds, they just love when Minnesotans succeed, and it's a thoroughly nice trait to have in a city/state/city-state. So despite initial grumblings about the rain (which was off and on in different strengths from about the 2nd inning on), the seats were surprisingly full until the very last out, something I can appreciate after attending a college where it was common practice to leave football games at the half.
As for the guts of the stadium, the walkways are spacious, the concessions are copious (and lines move relatively quickly, for a ballpark. At least they're never Dodger Stadium-long, because fuck Dodger Stadium for making me miss 2 1/2 innings for a Dodger Dog), and the views are gorgeous. The jumbotron lives up to its moniker, and they included the seemingly standard LCD scoreboards along the fronts of the mezzanines all the way around the stadium. All in all, the best thing about Target Field (besides the fact that it's not the Metrodome) is that it's not a bowl with a field in the middle, but a nicely varied and nicely leveled baseball field. Although I'll probably be sitting in the same place most games I go to, I'm actually curious to see what other seating areas have to offer, something I haven't much felt before (the bleachers are the only place for me at Wrigley, after all). The field itself is pristine, though there were some mound issues today due to rain (something the grounds crew will get used to, along with chasing down stray fluttering napkins, which happened today and resulted in a round of applause)--mostly a hitter's park with fairly shallow corners and moderate alleys, although this is balanced by a high outfield wall from right field to about left-center, oddly limiting the Twins' left-handed bat power. And atop it all in center field are the Minnesota Twins themselves, Minnie and Paul, two goofily generic doods that shake hands (via neon assistance) when the Twins (the team) hit home runs.
The excitement over the new stadium in Minneapolis is definitely justified, but if they really want to be a major-middle-market team, they gotta at least say "Twins" instead of "home team" in Take Me Out To The Ball Game during the 7th inning stretch. But Target Field should grow nicely alongside a nicely growing team, despite the lamented expiry of the Dome Dog (replaced by four (4) different Dog options, for your eating pleasure). Twins lose today, but at least I can say I was there for the first loss in Target Field, right?
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
Target to Wrigley
Every spring when the baseball season begins anew there is always that expected excitement and pageantry that comes with Opening Day. It’s that one day out of the year when the past years missed chances, the months of weekly sports instead of daily sports, and that great renewed hope culminates in one glorious day.
But this great day is only shared by half of the league in their home “friendly confines”, for the rest it’s the first leg of sporadic travels over the next several months. These teams however are not without their own celebrations. After those initial road trips have ended every team must return home. Today we celebrate another Opening Day; the homecoming of eight more teams including the Cubs, Twins, Indians, Blue Jays, Mariners, Padres, Cardinals and Phillies.
Today, even more so than Opening Day 2010 a week ago, I am reminded and given the most perfect visual of how the longevity and mass appeal of this sport I love continues on. Two teams represent that sentiment beautifully and they just happen to be one of my favorite teams and the one of the other writers’ favorites; the Cubs and the Twins.
At 3:10pm CST on April 12, 2010 the Minnesota Twins will finally open their newly constructed multimillion dollar outdoor stadium in the heart of downtown. Target Field brings with it the first outdoor game in Minneapolis in over 20 years and the first game in a stadium of their own in over 50. This stadium represents the huge popularity and success of baseball in Minnesota and in baseball across the country. It finally eliminates that vaunted garbage bag wall and the AstroTurf and replaces them with real grass and the thinly padded wall.
In the complete opposite situation, about 7 hours east of Minneapolis another team will be reopening their stadium today at 1:20pm CST for only the 96th time. After making some offseason remodels, which thankfully did not include flag poles for the countless pennants to be won, the Chicago Cubs also make their home debut. Historic Wrigley Field brings with it the ivy wall, the rooftop seating and of course, all those curses that go with it from the Bartman seat to the ejection of a man because his goat smelled foul.
These two stadiums couldn’t be more different in terms of their history but they have that one essential characteristic in common; home to Major League Baseball. Whether they are just opening today for the first time ever or have been around since the beginning of the century, these ballparks, and all baseball stadiums, will be our home for the next 6-7 months no matter the weather.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Opening Day Hijinks
It all began with a screaming liner that bounced off Pesky Pole in the second inning of Sunday's Opening Night game off the bat of Jorge Posada. Fans, both negatively and positively, clamored as the Yankees catcher rounded the bases for the first of surely many times this season. The first game of the 2010 season did not disappoint, as two aces took the mound and were battered around by the Yankees and Red Sox batters, respectively. CC Sabathia seemingly took control early, but those fighting Sox battled back and eventually overcame the reigning World Champions in a thrilling fashion.
Opening Day 2010 is finally here. The echoes of last fall still permeate the walls of ball clubs around both leagues. Hope springs eternal in the clubhouse of the Chicago Cubs, who will face an uphill battle this year against the NL Central favorites, the Cardinals. One thing that the Cubs will have going for them, however, is the depth of the St. Louis Cardinals. While the Cardinals boast some of the most dangerous batters in the National League (Pujols, Holliday and co.), it is absolutely imperative for the Cardinals organization to field these players all season. The holes in the Cardinals lineup can be exploited, but it may take a little bit of misfortune on the side of St. Louis for the Chicago Cubs to have a fighting chance this season. With only two left handed bats in the Cardinals line-up, the level of depth drops significantly if any one of the St. Louis stars misses any part of the season.
However, this axiom rings true for the Cubs as well. With Ramirez constantly on the verge of the DL with one bad grounder to the hot corner, the Cubs must stay healthy all season. They begin the season in less than in one hour against the Atlanta Braves, a perennial NL East contender, and play 4 of their first 6 games against the NL central. A slow start is not an option. One thing to keep an eye on for those few Atlanta Braves fans out there, is the exciting Jason Heyward (OF). Many have said that this young outfielder possesses great Major League potential. For this reason, he is my pick for the 2010 National League Rookie of the Year.
Without further ado, these are my picks for the 2010 playoff picture:
Opening Day 2010 is finally here. The echoes of last fall still permeate the walls of ball clubs around both leagues. Hope springs eternal in the clubhouse of the Chicago Cubs, who will face an uphill battle this year against the NL Central favorites, the Cardinals. One thing that the Cubs will have going for them, however, is the depth of the St. Louis Cardinals. While the Cardinals boast some of the most dangerous batters in the National League (Pujols, Holliday and co.), it is absolutely imperative for the Cardinals organization to field these players all season. The holes in the Cardinals lineup can be exploited, but it may take a little bit of misfortune on the side of St. Louis for the Chicago Cubs to have a fighting chance this season. With only two left handed bats in the Cardinals line-up, the level of depth drops significantly if any one of the St. Louis stars misses any part of the season.
However, this axiom rings true for the Cubs as well. With Ramirez constantly on the verge of the DL with one bad grounder to the hot corner, the Cubs must stay healthy all season. They begin the season in less than in one hour against the Atlanta Braves, a perennial NL East contender, and play 4 of their first 6 games against the NL central. A slow start is not an option. One thing to keep an eye on for those few Atlanta Braves fans out there, is the exciting Jason Heyward (OF). Many have said that this young outfielder possesses great Major League potential. For this reason, he is my pick for the 2010 National League Rookie of the Year.
Without further ado, these are my picks for the 2010 playoff picture:
American League
East: New York Yankees
Central: Minnesota Twins
West: Seattle Mariners
Wild Card: Boston Red Sox
National League
East: Philadelphia Phillies
Central: Chicago Cubs
West: Los Angeles Dodgers
Wild Card: St. Louis Cardinals
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Unleash the Beasts
Now that our animals have been properly beaten and the weak weeded out, the most vicious of beasts are ready to begin the grueling joust of the regular season. Tigers will claw at White Sox, as they are apt to do, since everyone knows tigers love eating old socks, while the perpetually creepy Twins (come on, twins are creepy) lie in wait. Rays will shine while Blue Jays soar through the skies to dive bomb Yankees (whatever the hell a Yankee really is). Cardinals will tweet (no, not Tweet) and get drunk with Brewers, and little baby bear Cubs will fight Pirates and win. The regular season commences!
At this nascent stage, optimism runs rampant in the most unlikely of places, like Baltimore, where the baseball is nearly as depressing as the crime rate, and that's the beauty of early April. Despite--or perhaps because of?--the rain (and rainouts), we feel reborn, a clean slate to scribble stats all over, and yet wisened with another season of failure or success under our belts, tucked away next to lessons learned of who strikes out when and who not to trust in a double play situation. Our benches are replenished with some old names, some new, and as of right now, everybody--from the Pujols to the Ecksteins to the Longorias to the various Ramirezes and Gonzalezes--everybody's batting average is a shiny .000. But without even taking the time to catch our breath, to enjoy the unsullied splendor of a blank scorecard, we jump in, and for a (very) short time BAs will be stratospheric and ERAs will be microscopic (and vice versa), and the question becomes "Just how long can he keep this up?" League leaders will change daily, but the frontrunners make their presence known immediately, fast becoming the Lincecum-wheat among the Arroyo-chaff.
But for now, we sit in the eerie calm as the storm rolls in. Spring folly no more, these ones count.
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And now, a message from your oh-so-jovial Oppo Field groundscrew:
Good evening and welcome to our friendly confines. Here at Oppo Field, we strive to provide you with a range of opinions and a slew of information about the daily goings-on in the American Major League Baseball Competitive Gaming Confederation™. We hope to engage in mostly meaningful, but occasionally incoherent conversations on what was once America's Favorite Pastime (until everyone decided they liked watching commercials periodically interspersed with a bastardized version of rugby for whatever reason [this parenthetical does not represent the views of Oppo Field groundscrew in toto, but still, come on]) on a fairly regular basis. We'll do our best to stay up to date, but we encourage you, the readers, to continue the conversations below, at least until we get sick of approving all of your comments. Thank you.
At this nascent stage, optimism runs rampant in the most unlikely of places, like Baltimore, where the baseball is nearly as depressing as the crime rate, and that's the beauty of early April. Despite--or perhaps because of?--the rain (and rainouts), we feel reborn, a clean slate to scribble stats all over, and yet wisened with another season of failure or success under our belts, tucked away next to lessons learned of who strikes out when and who not to trust in a double play situation. Our benches are replenished with some old names, some new, and as of right now, everybody--from the Pujols to the Ecksteins to the Longorias to the various Ramirezes and Gonzalezes--everybody's batting average is a shiny .000. But without even taking the time to catch our breath, to enjoy the unsullied splendor of a blank scorecard, we jump in, and for a (very) short time BAs will be stratospheric and ERAs will be microscopic (and vice versa), and the question becomes "Just how long can he keep this up?" League leaders will change daily, but the frontrunners make their presence known immediately, fast becoming the Lincecum-wheat among the Arroyo-chaff.
But for now, we sit in the eerie calm as the storm rolls in. Spring folly no more, these ones count.
----------
And now, a message from your oh-so-jovial Oppo Field groundscrew:
Good evening and welcome to our friendly confines. Here at Oppo Field, we strive to provide you with a range of opinions and a slew of information about the daily goings-on in the American Major League Baseball Competitive Gaming Confederation™. We hope to engage in mostly meaningful, but occasionally incoherent conversations on what was once America's Favorite Pastime (until everyone decided they liked watching commercials periodically interspersed with a bastardized version of rugby for whatever reason [this parenthetical does not represent the views of Oppo Field groundscrew in toto, but still, come on]) on a fairly regular basis. We'll do our best to stay up to date, but we encourage you, the readers, to continue the conversations below, at least until we get sick of approving all of your comments. Thank you.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
That Time of Year
As snow turns to rain and ice to slush and the dirty piles of old precipitation are washed away from curbs and lots, our brains thaw to thoughts of spring. For some of us, particularly those of us out here in Oppo Field, thoughts of spring are automatically appended by thoughts of training, thoughts of diamonds, thoughts of cacti and grapefruit. It's that time of year. To wit: "People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring."
Rogers Hornsby summed up what I imagine many players and fans feel, but it's a feeling that can only be described as personal, despite the universal nature of the thing. Our individual relationships with the game are unique to each of us, and the overwhelming feeling of relief when it returns after a long winter next to a hot stove brings with it our own singular sensations, distinctive memories--such is the beauty of the beast. There are infinite possibilities.
When we’re young, we’re invincible. We’re not afraid. We walk on sidewalks without shoes. We crash our bikes on purpose. We play sports. We aspire. We have not yet lost the hopes of little league shortstops and sandlot pitchers everywhere, though 99% of us will. But as those fireballing bucket catch hopes fade (and they always fade, never come crashing down, because we’ll cling to them until the very last, and perhaps not even submit them then), another refinement emerges from the game. We notice the gamesmanship, the clockwork, the circuitry of it. It’s no longer a wild animal to be feared and conquered, but a curious creature to be looked upon and understood. It’s equivalent to growing up, to seeing the world as it truly is. And we realize, we may not be invincible, but neither is anyone else.
Welcome to Oppo Field. The season's warming up and so are we.
Rogers Hornsby summed up what I imagine many players and fans feel, but it's a feeling that can only be described as personal, despite the universal nature of the thing. Our individual relationships with the game are unique to each of us, and the overwhelming feeling of relief when it returns after a long winter next to a hot stove brings with it our own singular sensations, distinctive memories--such is the beauty of the beast. There are infinite possibilities.
When we’re young, we’re invincible. We’re not afraid. We walk on sidewalks without shoes. We crash our bikes on purpose. We play sports. We aspire. We have not yet lost the hopes of little league shortstops and sandlot pitchers everywhere, though 99% of us will. But as those fireballing bucket catch hopes fade (and they always fade, never come crashing down, because we’ll cling to them until the very last, and perhaps not even submit them then), another refinement emerges from the game. We notice the gamesmanship, the clockwork, the circuitry of it. It’s no longer a wild animal to be feared and conquered, but a curious creature to be looked upon and understood. It’s equivalent to growing up, to seeing the world as it truly is. And we realize, we may not be invincible, but neither is anyone else.
Welcome to Oppo Field. The season's warming up and so are we.
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