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 3019 found on this site. Click the image to be taken to the original post. A new list is created every 10 minutes.
Bassett Creek's original path (Source: Metropolitan Design Center)
The main ticketing area beneath the restaurant.
Here's the current overview from the south side of the B ramp (from which the banner at the top of this page was culled).
Mauer steps in for the first time.
Fifth Street louvers way up close
Click to enlarge
New Downtown Minneapolis Public Library (Source: RP)
Someone please get those poor people a drink of water. (Gate 34, after the game had started)
I saw it at another park...
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.
Catwalks provide access to the View Level seats (from the Ballpark Authority July update)
Town Ball Tavern balcony
Looking down Sixth Avenue toward the plaza
I took this picture from the Overlook at great personal risk, because everything Thome was hitting was landing out that direction.
Some of Minneapolis' finest checking out the construction through a spot where a knothole will be one day.
Thome steps in.
The model still shows the Batters Eye Club, which is no longer part of the design.
Section A, Row WC
This is the back of the Cisco Field scoreboard, showing video to folks out on the plaza.
A peek through a tiny gate.
Seville's certainly will benefit from 81 games a year played about a block away! (When I walked by on this day, the place looked deserted, but I stand corrected!)
Who Owns What (Click for larger version. Source: Ballpark Authority)
Large staircases, a staple of recent Populous (nee HOK) projects, are all over the place.
Circulation building with construction team on top
The glare problem.
Now looking north, the tracks emerge from beneath Seventh Street as freight tracks only. The Northstar line ends at the northwest corner of the ballpark. One day, however, you can bet that other passenger trains will approach from the southwest metro on these tracks -- if our legislators are smart and persistent, that is.