It is rainy in the Twins Cities today. The sky is as grey as it gets, and the chances of actual sunshine are around zero percent. There is more cold, and more snow, in the forecast.
My yard is still partially covered with snow, the top of which now sports a crust thick enough that my kids can walk across it without leaving footprints or, thankfully, getting their socks and shoes wet. The remaining cover is thickest out in the middle of the yard, about where home plate generally gets placed, right in front of the garden bed that my mom will fill with hostas in a few weeks. Those plants will be mined over and over all summer long for balls which got by someone's bat, but my mom doesn't seem to care. She's a fan.
On the boulevards, the gigantic snow piles I created with my own muscle power have been steadily shrinking away from the sunshine of the past week. Their edges, once plump and tall and foreboding, are now scalloped and dirty and oddly crystalline. If I do have to shovel later this week, there will be a place to put it all. That wasn't true a couple of weeks ago.
But the disappearing snow is revealing something that I always forget about: The yard beneath it is still just as scruffy as it was when the first snow covered it so beautifully last fall. If there is a gift to winter, it's that all the sins of summer are shrouded for a time -- not exactly forgiven, but at least put away. Dormancy has its virtues.
Now those memories emerge, and the hidden things look once again like they need tending: The pitching got better, but the hitting got worse. The base running is an open question, as is the defense.
Wait, what just happened? Let's see, I was talking about the grass and leaves and general muck of my yard, and then...
On Opening Day, everything is about baseball.
As I write this, the sun is defying the odds and peaking out through a small break in the overcast. It reminds me that today all teams are 0-0 and, regardless of the forecast, anything is possible.
"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 3042 found on this site. Click the image to be taken to the original post. A new list is created every 10 minutes.
Viewed from the A ramp.
The Polo Grounds (left) and Shibe Park (Connie Mack Stadium)
Bench seating just off the plaza
Photo by Jeff Ewer (Click to enlarge.)
5:45 PM, section 327, row 9, standing: sunshine.
(Click to enlarge.)
A little ground's crew action in the first inning the other night.
The right field overhang is in place, and the first base stands are starting to go in.
The model still shows the Batters Eye Club, which is no longer part of the design.
Click to enlarge.
Plaza extension reaches toward First Avenue
This is as close as I could get to a pedestrian-eye view of Seventh Street (looking west away from downtown). It's inviting, not imposing, and remarkably dignified.
The process of building the canopy is really amazing to watch.
Griffith Stadium (notch visible in lower photo at far left)
I was surprised at how close those upper deck seats seem. From the plaza, you feel like you can reach out and touch them. It really adds to the impression of overall compactness.
Click to see the whole page from this 1971 program.
Click on this photo to see what it looked like on this spot 101 years ago (I'm not kidding)
Condiments! (complete with faux limestone on the cart -- nice touch)
This isn't a very good picture, but it is the current view of the inside of a suite.
Circulation ramps: Wrigley (classic, integrated) and Kauffman (modern, external)
Glove from above
Looking across the top of the batter's eye
Hardware in the window! (But why are there three trophies? 1924?)
This is what it looked like during the first open house in March.
I took this picture just moments before Morneau's homer landed almost exactly where I had been standing. If only I hadn't wanted to watch the game...
A view straight on of the Pro Shop area and ticket windows (just barely visible). The piers you see beneath the plaza are already almost completed (see final photo).