So much to talk about, so little time. Let's start with the obvious: Before dropping a double-header to the Red Sox today, there had to be a rainout yesterday. Kevin in AZ nailed it:
Twins rained out tonight in Boston. What the hell were they thinking when they built Fenway without a roof. I'll bet there are riots down Boylston and all throughout the Kenmore about Fenway being open air. How could the Red Sox organization thumb their noses at all of the other New Englanders coming in from Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine and Rhode Island. Goodness knows there's nothing else to do in Boston except watch baseball so what on earth are all of those people supposed to do with their time tonight?????
There will be much gnashing of teeth in the Twin Towns next year at this time when the first game is postponed (which, I'm told, would not have happened yet if they'd been playing outside this year).
This may seem a little obvious, but there are 15 MLB teams either in warm parts of the country or with roofs. Why not simply weight the schedule a little bit toward these cities in the most vulnerable months? I know that we wouldn't want the Twins on the road for all of April or September, but why not an extra Texas, California, or Tampa Bay series in each of those months?
There's much to love about the opening of New Yankee Stadium -- if you're into Shadenfreude, that is (and I'm not talking about the blow-out losses).
Balls are jumping out at a rate that, while it's admittedly a small sample size, certainly catches one's attention. Could it be that there were no wind studies done in advance on that ballpark? Here's one that certainly raises eyebrows.
I'm checking to see if anything has been done on Target Field. I'll let you know.
But that isn't the only interesting thing. Seems that the economy has put a bit of a freeze on some ticket sales. Here's an interesting article (with photo) that talks about and illustrates the "empty premium seats" problem.
I don't want to say "I told you so", but I did write about this very subject well over a year ago -- long before my IRA dropped by 45%. It's one very serious potential downside for creating such a rigid distinction between the various tiers of seating.
Just so I'm clear: This is not a lament about ticket prices. Nor is it a lament about the increased difficulty of moving up to better seats later in the game. I do share these objections, but this is strictly about flexibility for the proprietors.
By creating a large and completely sequestered "premium" seating area, you risk seriously impacting your opportunities to change your plan mid-course. A year ago, no one in New York was thinking it might be hard to sell the most expensive seats (though they might have been if they'd noticed that Washington opened a ballpark and immediately experienced similar problems -- though for a different reason). Thus, no one was imagining that you might have the embarrassment of large swaths of empty seats on people's television screens.
But it was entirely predictable. With such a clearly visible line of demarcation between the uber-expensive seats and the only obnoxously-expensive seats, even the best of times would probably yield some empty seats in the best part of the ballpark. In fact, those seats, the "worst of the best", are destined to be the most likely to be empty -- even more than the ultra-cheap and obstructed-view bleacher seats.
Today, we know it's a real problem. Thankfully for the Twins, they have a year to devise a back-up plan (something the Yankees and Mets should have done). They're clever folks, and I have no doubt they'll be ready. But there's something fitting about seeing this problem raise its ugly head in the new baseball Taj Mahal.
I'm sharing this photo with you because this was perhaps the worst hot dog I've ever eaten (April 14, Toronto game). It was free (with the purchase of a seat in the family zone), but that does not redeem it. As you can see, though I didn't measure it before eating it, the hot dog itself is just over half the size of the bun (that's why I took the photo -- at which point I did not yet know just how undelectable it would be).
The bun was dry. The meat was cool (not quite cold, definitely not hot). The whole thing just barely fit for an animal.
It led to a somewhat awkward conversation between me, my friend and his son to determine whose was smallest.
"Is yours smaller than mine? Really?"
"No way. I think mine's the smallest."
"Looks like they're all pretty small."
* Sigh *
And that terrible dog was served by a volunteer who was just learning the cash register.
So let's use this as a springboard for the latest round of Things I Won't Miss About the Metrodome (TIWMATM):
#5 - Centerplate (the food service company)
#6 - Volunteer concession staff (well-meaning, but always a bottleneck)
#7 - Troughs (nothing quite like getting someone else's piss on your knees)
"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.
Here you can see the real beauty of the Seventh Street side, and get a solid sense of why the overall design really works. The building's purpose is clearly visible, there are numerous connections from inside to outside, scale is nicely mitigated, the stone is attractively used, materials are pleasantly mixed and truly complementary. It's just a winner in so many ways.
Skyline to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am, stuck in the outfield with you... (click to enlarge)
Better them than me
LRT station has appeared.
A peek through a tiny gate.
This is the plaza as viewed from the A ramp.
Carew atrium menu part 2
Fun with section counting!
Here's the Northstar platform.
Two concepts here remain in the final design. First is the oddly-shaped pavilion in center. Second is the section just above the right field fence. In the current design this section will hang over the field by a few feet. The original doesn't do that, but you can see that the concept goes way back in the planning.
Working on the main concourse right about directly behind the plate.
Some people will go to work here every day.
A scene repeated about a BILLION times each game
Dugout Box and Champion's Club sections are sequestered by separate moats
New section labels, but some curious choices.
Selling exactly what they say they're selling.
Note that, even though the scoreboard appears strategically placed, it's the outfield stands which block any potential view of the field from this roof.
A few weeks ago there were sand volleyball courts here. When the park opens, this will be surface parking. Maybe one day there will be something more interesting built on top of that parking...
You write the caption...
The reverse angle shows that the signage will only partially obscure views from the top of the ramp. The wall is pretty high up there, so you'll need something to stand on, but it appears that this is one of the so-called "knotholes".
A closer look into the park from down the street. How great will this view be during a game??
(Click to enlarge)
Click to enlarge greatly.
Fenway has posts. Target Field does not. But...
Remember the pitch heard throughout Twins Territory? What an amazing day that was, April 12, 2010. (Photo by Tyler Wycoff)
A collection of support pillars for the left field pavilion.
Kirby Jr. set to take down the last number
This design has a rather generic quality to it, but they appear to have considered the B garage. Though it isn't part of the model, they've clearly left room for it.
This view, from the Minnekahda building (or possibly a predecessor), looks toward the right field corner. The City Market, at left, occupied the land where the B ramp and Target Plaza now stand (over I-394). And the Overlook now juts out just a little beyond where that driveway enters the railyard.