Paul: (after a pause) We didn't get to shake hands very much.
Minny: True, true.
(Sound of cold wind blowing.)
Paul: Really I think I'd rather forget the whole thing.
Minny: Sure, but we've got a lot of time to kill before the next game.
Paul: I know. But what do you want me to say?
Minny: Let's do what we did last year. You remember, going over the season game by game, retelling all the stories, remembering all the highlights while soaking in anticipation for the new season. That was so great.
Paul: I suppose we can try.
(Sound of lonely LRT whistle, then a long silence.)
Paul: Um, this is still a great place to see a game.
Minny: Really? That's all you got?
Paul: Give me a minute.
(Sound of jet flying high overhead, then quiet.)
Paul: Baseball is still a beautiful game.
Minny: Great. We're in cliche-land now.
Paul: Wait 'till next year?
Minny: You've got to be kidding.
(Sound of hoses cleaning the empty concourses.)
Minny: Paul, you still love the game, right?
Paul: Of course.
Minny: Me too. But sometimes I wonder why.
Paul: Look, you love it for the same reason I do -- because it's an art: you know, an apparently pointless affair, undertaken by people with a special aptitude, which sidesteps attempts to paraphrase its value yet somehow seems to communicate something true or even crucial about the Human Condition. The Human Condition being, basically, that we're alive and have access to beauty, can even erratically create it, but will someday be dead and will not.
Minny: That's beautiful, Paul. Did you just think that up?
Paul: Naw, I heard a couple of guys down in those seats right there talking about some new baseball novel. "The Art of Fielding." Chad Harbach. It's from that.
Paul: Kinda sums it up, though.
Minny: I suppose.
(Sound of a single golden leaf falling gently onto the warning track after wafting in on another cool breeze.)
Paul: Gonna be a long winter.
Paul: (after a pause) Are you going to let go of my hand?
Paul: Oh, OK then.
Minny: (after a pause) One more time? To Harmon?
Paul: To Harmon.
(There is no sound. And no one is there to see neon hands shake one more time.)
This page was last modified on September 30, 2011.
"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 3037 found on this site. Click the image to be taken to the original post. A new list is created every 10 minutes.
Two signs visible from beyond the confines of the ballpark.
A distinct misstep, ostensibly to guard against missteps. But methinks I smell a lawyer...
Looking up Seventh Street to the west
The entrance at Gate 3.
Here's a correction: The LRT platform will actually be able to load outbound trains from both sides.
The lot within the lot.
Sign installer dude
This is as close as I could get to a pedestrian-eye view of the main entrance. This is what you'll see as you enter by coming down Sixth Street.
Looking up Sixth Street, now barricaded for plaza extension.
Special guests in the trees!
If you arrive by bus, your first glimpse of the park will be the scoreboard's profile. (Viewed from the bus station in the B ramp.)
One more time from the third base side.
Seventh Street windows
Not much facade left to be finished at this point.
This is a background image extracted from one of the blueprint pages. It's essentially a schematic of the park (Terrace Level). In it you can see the shape of the various seating areas (to a certain extent).
And another angle looking at the overhang area of the right field pavilion. This looks to me like a great area to watch a game.
Speakers spaced evenly among the lights
Skywalk over Seventh
Hubert's remains the only sports bar within site of the Dome after 28 years of its existence. It's a cautionary tale.
The circulation ramp on Fifth Street is shaping up very quickly.
Entrance to the Champions Club
This will be a bar/restaurant.
Banners on the parking ramp are a great touch. They help manage scale and turn a lemon into lemonade. On my way there today I passed the WCCO building and remembered how the Twins schedule used to be painted in giant form on the side of that building (which is no longer visible). Wouldn't that be a great thing to resurrect on the side of that ramp? A giant Twins schedule. I always thought that was cool.
A place to sit (does it look like a pitcher's mound to you?)