Spring of 1982 (click to enlarge greatly -- can you pick out Kent Hrbek?)
This is it.
We won't have that old cement craphole to kick around for much longer.
Get it out of your system now.
Here's what I'll probably miss the most about the Metrodome: the complaining.
It has become something of a ritual. I've gotten pretty good at it, and such habits tend to die hard, especially when they've been so much fun. There are so many things to dislike about the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome and really just about nothing to like.
Well, except for the history.
In today's comments there were plenty of folks who admitted they will feel a little sad as the Metrodome era comes to a close. The admissions were cautious, tentative, as if not wanting to step in front of a Dome-bashing freight train.
But they were also very genuine. It turns out that some people have special personal memories associated with the place: first games attended, special moments witnessed, family connections strengthened. We should've known.
August 2001 (a month later we were engaged)
To those fans I say: Don't let all the disparaging of the Dome tarnish those memories. They will always be special. Hold them close. Even through hating the Dome, I got a few of those myself.
2007, Noah's first game (Torii's last)
It's the darnedest thing, but real memories can be created, and real history can happen, in the most unlikely, even the most unpleasant of places. And when it does, you're stuck with the place as part of the memory.
All those great Twins moments (which I won't go into here because they've been pretty much pounded to death elsewhere) are inextricably linked -- and will be forever -- with that lousy place. That terrible, horrible, offensively bland, barely functional, cramped, dank, gray-blue, pressurized, rat-infested, un-baseball place.
The saddest event
Yet there they are: wonderful, beautiful, full-color baseball memories.
Do you remember that long, late night when the team got back from Detroit? I cheered til I was hoarse. My ears rang for days.
There was no game to watch, but that was some serious ballpark magic. Fitting, isn't it? My most special memory of the place was when there wasn't a game being played.
If you feel sentimental this weekend, go for it. I can't predict my reaction, and won't even try. I'll be at Sunday's game with my parents. It's unlikely that I will shed a tear, but you never know.
Rally Hanky (2002 ALCS)
Frankly, I hope on Sunday to be distracted by the presence of a meaningful baseball game being played in front of me. And I will be hoping that the ticket I bought to the "last game at the Dome" will one day be referred to as the ticket I bought for the "last regular season game at the Dome".
I went out to Target Field to get pictures of the celebration sign being installed, but the place was buzzing with activity and pictures just had to be taken. So here are a few stragglers from the other day.
Above the Carew gate
What are they hanging over there?
Artist at (very painstaking) work
Work beneath the scoreboard
Work on one of the side panels
There must be millions of details needing tending
B ramp at left, ballpark at right (and visible far away through the tiny crack)
Rooftop scaffolding, for the wind veil installation?
Twins in HD on the big board
I see an opportunity in this view for an Abbey Road-style promotional photo! Mauer, Morneau, Nathan and Cuddyer walking toward the ballpark. The only question: which one takes off his cleats?
A quick scheduling note: The Twins announced today that they will turn on the canopy lights first thing on Monday morning and let them burn for 100 hours. That means a couple of nights for gawking -- which I'll do on your behalf if you can't get down there, of course.
"You talk about the magic, the aura, but what really makes a stadium is the fans. Concrete doesn't talk back to you. Chairs don't talk back to you. It's the people who are there, day in, day out, that makes the place magic."
– Bernie Williams
Explore the Site
Here are 50 images chosen randomly from the 3033 found on this site. Click the image to be taken to the original post. A new list is created every 10 minutes.
Click to enlarge
Killebrew taught, "Always make your autograph legible, boys."
Champion's Club moat (windows are found at the base of the limestone behind the seats -- not visible in this image)
The original Candlestick Park
The first completed mural
A scene repeated about a million times each game
Workers against green
The Target Field grass, it turns out, will be green. (This is a photo representing the concept of grass only. The actual Target Field grass apparently will not contain dirt patches, weeds, or dandelions. Imagine that -- if you can!)
Peering through Gate 29 -- lots to see
The view from the Penn Ave entrance to 394 (and all the way into town! Click to enlarge)
If you want, you can ask those folks how the game is going -- and even get a little bit of info from the big screen (Grandstand)
This is the plaza as viewed from the A ramp.
Shh. Don't tell those people working behind the ticket windows about these automated ticketing machines (underneath the plaza stairs)
Glass going in over the Oliva gate.
I know you've seen this, but I can't get enough of it.
Typical SRO view upstairs.
Looking back toward the ballpark from Third Avenue and Fifth Street. Again, the track configuration is now clearly visible.
Site plan for the new Nationals ballpark, with the size of the Rapid Park site overlaid
These are the outside tracks which go under the promenade
Thanks for all the hard work out there, Cold Safety-Line Dudes. (I'm glad that my job does not require safety lines...)
Also from the B ramp entrance off of Third, a look up at the tiny crack between ballpark and parking ramp
Staircase entrance. You cannot miss them.
Not from Moose's tour, but it's an image you need to see. (Click to enlarge greatly.)
Section 331, Row 9
The electronic sign has been corrected (and never forget that ballpark is one word, not two)
Close-up on the diagram of the Club Level with finishing materials (click to enlarge)