Out to the ballgame
Checking off a couple more ballparks in my quest to see them all. Plus: Best rock songs, America's real Mt. Rushmore, eligibility chaos from years ago and lots more.
I spent Fourth of July weekend in Kansas City -- my first trip there ever. To say it was a blast would be a huge understatement. I sat front row for a World Cup game. I got a guided tour of the Negro Leagues Museum from Bob Kendrick that was, hands down, one of the best sports experiences of my life. I ate a truly unhealthy quantity of barbecue (including waiting in line for two hours at Joe’s with a bunch of Colombia fans).
But the ostensible reason I wanted to go to KC at all was that I’d never been to Kauffman Stadium, and I needed to rectify that oversight while the stadium was still in use.
I have a handful of loosely tied travel goals for my life. There are the obvious sports bucket list items -- Super Bowl, World Series, Kentucky Derby, Indy 500, Masters -- and I’ve checked off all of those and quite a few more.1 I have a goal to drink a beer in every state.2 And, like many a middle-aged white guy, I want to see a ball game at every Major League park.
This summer, I checked off two of the final six I needed: Detroit and Kansas City.
I loved both stadiums, but Kansas City is in a unique place among current ballparks in that it’s well past middle age by stadium standards.
Trivia: Name the six active stadiums built before 1990.
Kauffman, of course, is one of them. It was built in 1973, and it’s a credit to the fine folks in Kansas City that it retains so much charm. The fountains, of course, are the highlight. But the wide concourses around the outfield, the comfortable seating, the solid options for food and drink -- it checks most of the boxes you’d ask of a far more modern ballpark. Aside from the lesser sightline from the main concourse and the fact that it’s just in a giant parking lot 20 minutes from downtown, Kauffman still has a lot going for it. Compare that to many of the other stadiums built in that era -- Three Rivers, the Vet, Jack Murphy, Riverfront, Municipal Stadium, Oakland Coliseum -- and it’s light years ahead. Of course, not being a multi-use facility is a big reason why.
When Oriole Park at Camden Yards opened in 1992, everything about baseball stadiums changed. Technically, Camden Yards is “retro” -- a throwback to the older era of baseball stadiums, but Baltimore hit on a thing that is unique to the sport. There’s no romanticism to seeing every football stadium or NBA arena. But baseball stadiums -- they have character. The action on the field is the centerpiece, of course, but baseball is like Thanksgiving dinner. It’s all the sides that make the meal special. Outside of a couple NFL stadiums -- Jerry World, Seattle, Lambeau -- if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen ‘em all. With baseball, every stadium is its own unique experience.
When evaluating a ballpark, I’ve got a handful of criteria I consider: Does it feel like a part of the city it’s in? Is it easy to get to and from? Are there unique food options that feel a part of the culture of its city? How’s the beer? Are there cool surprises, twists, oddities that make it feel special? Does going there feel like an experience as much as a game?
But at the end of the day, there’s just something impossible to quantify about a great ballpark experience. Sometimes it’s witnessing an amazing game there. Or maybe it’s bonding with the fans. Or maybe it’s just a hot dog with mustard and a cold beer on a perfect summer day. Again, baseball’s 50% sport and 50% romance.
So, I’m not sure my ballpark rankings should be considered anything close to doctrine, and if I’m being honest, I’ve loved even the ones at the bottom. The important thing is just to get out and see them, meet the fans and enjoy the game.
Anyway, here’s my list, split into tiers.
Tier 1: The obvious choices
1. Wrigley Field, Chicago Cubs
I’ve been a Cubs fan since I was 7 years old. I first went to Wrigley in the summer after eighth grade. My dad and I drove from Delaware to Chicago for two games. I’ll never forget getting off the red line and seeing the scoreboard and walking into the stadium that first time. I got a picture with Harry Caray (that I cannot find now). The Cubs beat the Reds 3-2 on a walk-off hit-by-pitch (Rey Sanchez!). My dad and I waited at the players parking lot after for autographs. Paul Assenmacher had been the winning pitcher in relief and refused to sign for anyone. My dad yelled at him and called him “Ass-enmacher.” We went back the next day for a pitcher’s duel between Danny Jackson and Charlie Liebrandt. The Braves won 2-0. It’s still two of the greatest days of my life. I’ve been back to Wrigley countless times since, and it’s never any less magical. I sat in the right field bleachers for Games 3, 4 and 5 of the 2016 World Series and heard so many amazing stories from fans who’d been coming to Wrigley for decades, just waiting to see one World Series win. There is truly no place else like it. When I die, I want my ashes scattered at Wrigley.
2. Fenway Park, Boston Red Sox
I love Fenway, too. But good lord Boston fans have become insufferable.
Tier 2: The perfect new(er) ballparks
3. Oracle Park, San Francisco Giants
My first Giants game was the 2010 NLCS. Huey Lewis sang the national anthem. Steve Perry was there. The atmosphere was electric. I fell in love with the ballpark and the city. But, also, the Giants beat the Cubs in the ‘89 NDCS and thus ruined my childhood, so there’s still some bitterness toward the team. Bonus points because Oracle has, by far, the best stadium food options in the country.
4. PNC Park, Pittsburgh Pirates
The most photogenic ballpark in the country.
Tier 3: The game-changer
5. Oriole Park at Camden Yards
The first of the new-school designs opened in 1992 and it’s still a flawless ballpark. A few beers at Pickles across the street pre-game, some Boog’s BBQ and a stroll along Eutaw Street -- summer days don’t get much better than that.
Tier 4: The under-appreciated gems
6. Petco Park, San Diego Padres
7. Comerica Park, Detroit Tigers
8. Coors Field, Colorado Rockies
I went to Comerica for the first time this summer, and I was stunned at how nice it was. Like Coors and Petco, it’s beautiful, it’s in the heart of the city, it’s got great food and beverage options, and it’s chock full of small touches that make it stand out from the rest of the early 2000s ballparks.
Tier 5: Aging with grace
9. Kauffman Stadium
10. Dodger Stadium
I feel like people hold Dodger Stadium in the same regard as Wrigley and Fenway, ad I just don’t get that. It’s cool. I like it. But it’s really more grandfathered in to the elite ballpark conversation than having really earned its stripes.
Tier 6: Pretty, pretty good
11. Angels Stadium
12. Yankees Stadium
Angels Stadium is the fourth-oldest in the country and it’s in Anaheim, in a big parking lot that doesn’t feel much a part of anything. And yet, it’s still pretty fun. Of course, it’s been 20 years since I’ve been there. My last visit was at the height of the “rally monkey” era, which undoubtedly made a good impression on me.
MID-LIST RANKING OF OLD STADIUMS
I’ve been to a number of ballparks that are no longer in use. Here’s how I’d rank them:
1. Veterans Stadium, Philadelphia -- It was a dump, but it was my dump. It had a prison underneath. It had turf that may honestly have given players brain cancer. And you could buy tickets to sit in the 700 level for like $3 when I was in high school. I still miss it.
2. County Stadium in Milwaukee -- Brats, beer and bleacher seats. What’s not to like?
3. Old Yankee Stadium -- Ruth, DiMaggio, Mantle all played there. It was also way too big.
4. RFK Stadium -- Used for a couple years by the Nationals when they first moved to DC. It wasn’t all that bad.
5. Turner Field -- The Braves organist was great. The press box got tons of foul balls. There was absolutely nothing around the ballpark. As generic and uninteresting as you can get without actually being bad.
6. Oakland Coliseum -- just a complete debacle but bonus points for being close to San Fran.
7. Qualcomm Stadium -- I was at the last game in the stadium’s baseball history. I had some fun times there. But going to Mission Valley to watch baseball in a football stadium wasn’t much competition for spending a day drinking warm beers on the beach.
8. Marlins/Sun Life/Joe Robbie/Pro Player/Hard Rock, etc. -- The renovations for football have made it much better -- though the world’s slowest press box elevator remains unchanged -- but this was as bad an environment for baseball as it gets.
Tier 7: The shared blueprints
13. Progressive Field, Cleveland Indians
14. Citizens Bank Park, Philadelphia Phillies
15. Truist Park, Atlanta Braves
16. Busch Stadium, St. Louis Cardinals
17. Great American Ballpark, Cincinnati Reds
18. Nationals Park, Washington Nationals
These are, in most ways, all the same ballpark. All of them are nice, but they’re nice in the way a mall with a bunch of chain restaurants is nice. It all feels very curated and without any of the organic personality that really sets a ballpark apart.
I did, however, get this pretty awesome photo covering a game in St. Louis.
Tier 8: The ceiling is the roof
19. Rogers Center, Toronto Blue Jays
20. Chase Field, Arizona Diamondbacks
21. American Family Field, Milwaukee Brewers
22. Daikin Park, Houston Astros
Retractable roofs offer markedly different experiences based on whether they’re open or closed. The Jays game I attended this summer with the roof open, for example, affords a great backdrop and some amazing Canadian summer weather. But close the roofs at any of these spots and it feels -- off. Kudos to Houston though for having the best press box food (rivaled only by the Yankees).
Tier 9: They have their charms
23. loanDepot Park, Miami Marlins
24. Rate Field, Chicago White Sox
25. Citi Field, New York Mets
The new Marlins park is light years better than the old one, but the one game I’ve gone to there had about 12 fans in the place and zero energy.
The White Sox had the misfortune of building the last stadium before Baltimore opened Camden Yards and changed the game. Still, Rate Field is better than it gets credit for.
Citi is entirely meh, and it’s lacks any of the energy that should come with being in the country’s biggest city. The one thing I did love about Citi back in the day when I was there frequently as part of the Phillies beat was that there was a Shake Shack inside the ballpark. Back then, it was one of just three or four locations -- all in NY. We’d go wait in line for it right after batting practice and it was always great. Now that Shake Shack is everywhere though it’s lost a lot of its luster. Mama’s of Corona was good, too, but alas, they’ve closed down a few years back. Anyway, screw the Mets.
Tier 10: The ones I haven’t been to
I still need to get to Seattle (been to Seahawks but not Mariners), the Twins, the Rangers and the A’s, whenever they finally move into a permanent home. Maybe next summer I’ll check off a couple more.
Tier 11: The high school gym
26. Tropicana Field, Tampa Bay Rays
Honestly, I’ve had fun every time I’ve been there. It’s so bad, it’s almost charming. But also... it’s really bad.
Odds and ends
Obviously, I’m late with this week’s newsletter. Alas, it’s free, so you should’ve set your expectations low.
Next week is ACC Kickoff, which means a lot of … well, “news” might be a strong word, but certainly material. Then SEC media days in Tampa the following week. Essentially, my summer is over.
I’ve also got a big feature that — fingers crossed — is running Monday after being rescheduled multiple times.
In other words, I’m teetering on the brink of being back in college football mode. Which is nice. Or not.
Anyway, a few other items of note…
ESPN put together its “best players to wear each jersey number” list, which I contributed to. This gimmick has been done before, but I think we really tried to give a fresh look to a lot of folks and probably have a few controversial picks as a result.
I did, I think, a pretty fun bit on Twitter and BlueSky over the 4th asking who you would put on your Mt. Rushmore of great Americans. No politicians. Just four people who best represent the American experience.
My picks:
Armstrong exemplified American ingenuity and heroism.
O’Neil is one of our best examples of overcoming hatred with good will, a kind heart and an unwavering belief in the ultimate good of humanity.3
Earhart represents America’s willingness to attempt the impossible and to push beyond the boundaries others set upon us.
Cash is an amazing example of coming from nothing, making it big, falling down and getting back up again. Redemption, as much as anything, is one of America’s most cherished values.
I thought the responses from others were really good, too. Some of the others I’d really love to include: Mr. Rogers, Dolly Parton, Carl Sagan, Ted Turner, Mark Twain, Billy Jean King, Harriet Tubman... but so many more. Give the replies a read.
Meanwhile on Twitter, I’m counting down (or really, counting up) the days to the first Power Four game of the year by giving one stat per P4 team each day until Week 0.
Entertainment Weekly put together its list of the 25 greatest rock songs of all time. Any list like this is a) impossible to really do with any actual methodology and b) designed to get people angry. But you know what? I don’t hate it. Like, if you’re going strictly by what “rock” is all about… it’s probably not the 25 best songs but it’s a list of 25 great songs that represent the best of rock.
My friend David Ubben has an amazing tale of a real life Chad Powers — a 30-year-old who played for Texas under a fake name. Just great reporting here.
One more music-related note from my trip to the Negro Leagues Museum. The museum has roughly 500 baseballs individually signed by Negro Leagues players. The donor? Rush front man Geddy Lee.
Remaining sports bucket list items: A Premier League match, Belmont, an F1 race, Lambeau Field and… somehow I’ve never been to the Rose Bowl.
Drinking a beer is just sort of a placeholder to signify doing something fun in that state. You can’t count layovers or driving through them. You can’t fly in, grab lunch and go home to check the box. The point is to have an experience. My remaining states: Vermont, Rhode Island, Hawaii, Oregon, North and South Dakota, Iowa, New Mexico, Montana, Idaho and Nebraska.
We visited the Negro Leagues Museum in KC, and the president, Bob Kendrick, told us the story of Buck’s supposed last shot at Cooperstown. A committee was formed to offer what was supposed to be one final review of the Negro Leagues, to induct anyone deserving. It was, ostensibly, a process created to get Buck in. Everyone assumed he was a shoo-in. Until he wasn’t. He missed out by one vote. He was 94 and one of just two candidates on the ballot still alive. The other was Minnie Minoso, who also missed out. Anyway, Bob had to deliver the news to Buck. Bob was sobbing before he went into the room. He was furious this could happen. He steeled his nerves and told Buck he’d missed out by one vote. Buck quietly asked how many others made the cut. “Seventeen,” Bob said. Buck slammed his hand on the table and let out a cheer. “How about that?” Buck yelled. “Seventeen more of my guys into the Hall of Fame.” That’s who Buck was. He just wanted to celebrate others and tell their stories. He didn’t care at all about himself. And after some discussion, he chimed in again: “Bob,” he said. “Do you think they’ll let me give a speech to announce those guys?” Amazing human being, and if you’ve never read Joe Posnanski’s “The Soul of Baseball,” just stop everything you’re doing right now and get a copy. The story about the woman in the red dress is one of my favorites.
Seattle's a pretty great park, and the concession options are top-notch. Let me know if you make it out this way!