Dignity of the dump truck
Down there in Minneapolis, between 5th and 7th streets, comes the glorious sound of tearing pavement and dump trucks. After all the political hyperbole and hand-wringing, real stadium work is finally underway, as a parking lot is hauled off to make way for something better. For those who tally baseball as one of mankind’s greater endeavors, dump trucks have never looked shinier.
This past weekend, a good number of Twins fans were out in Milwaukee for the annual interleague matchups. Whenever locals head across the border to Miller Park, there is talk of that stadium - comparisons to what might be in Minnesota.
Snow, wind and cold rain across the northern U.S. brought many Major League postponements in April. In Cleveland they lost an entire series - very unusual. Around the Twin Cities, this re-ignited the whine for a retractable roof. “If we’re gonna spend a kajillion dollars,” went the argument, “then have the sense to put a dang roof on it.”
Some weeks ago I went out to Phoenix, and caught two games at the Diamondbacks’ Chase Field - formerly called Bank One Ballpark (”the BOB”), later to be called something else and so on and so forth(ugh). Chase is a retractable roof model. On a Friday night I took in the pre-game and batting practice, which was handy in that I could wander unfettered through all the best seats and locations of the ballpark despite holding a $6 ticket. Sunday afternoon I took along Dad and a brother and watched the game from the upper deck, with said roof closed to the elements.
With the roof open, the atmosphere in Chase Field is much like the feeling you’d get riding around in a nice roomy car with a sunroof. Which is to say that while Chase Field is about a thousand times better than the Metrodome, it still isn’t quite outdoor baseball. In Arizona, the sunroof option allows them to air condition the whole stadium, keeping fans (particularly lower deck fans) in 70 degree comfort while the street outside swelters 95 or 100. When it gets prohibitively hot, or when favored players like Randy Johnson request, they close the roof and you’ve got what is unquestionably an indoor ballpark. I haven’t been to Miller Park or any of the other newer retractable roof stadiums, but video and pictures indicate they are similar to Chase. Sunroof, not so much a convertible. One exception might be Safeco Field in Seattle, which appears to use the roof more as a rain shelter than an enclosure.
In Minnesota, we’re building an outdoor ballpark. No superstructure that dwarfs the field itself. We’ll have rainouts, bitter cold evenings where the crowd dwindles in the later innings, lengthy weather delays that push games late into the evening, plenty of nights when hot coffee radically outsells cold beer. And this is good (excepting maybe for that beer part).
The massive marvels in Milwaukee and Phoenix and Toronto are quality stadiums, no question. But a commitment to unblemished outdoor Twins baseball in Minnesota is the right choice. All that banging and dust downtown this month is getting us closer to the promised land.
