The only real way to undo a Great Wrong is with a Great Right.
That is exactly what's going on right now at the University of Minnesota. The Great Wrong of sequestering football off campus in a hermetically-sealed, shared concrete tub for more than a generation is being met with a Great Right in the form of TCF Bank Stadium, an incredibly beautiful place, and a very welcome sight for very sore football eyes.
It's hard to believe what I'm about to say, but this place might actually be able to turn me back into a Gopher football fan. I may be on the verge of buying a maroon and gold sweatshirt.
Having followed its development only from a distance (I'm rather occupied with watching another facility, as you know), I hadn't spent much time preparing for what I might see today. But it's safe to say that I am officially blown away. It's hard to know where to begin.
So I'll begin where Gopher games can now begin for a lot of folks: tailgating. The day was beautiful, the atmosphere was joy-filled, the colors covered everything. There are lots of lots. Who could possibly resist this?
Parking was leisurely, and we didn't encounter any traffic to speak of as we approached. That will be different on game day, but the layout of premium parking seemed to be conducive to smooth flow. It's plentiful and very well thought out (though some of the access roads we used to get to the Northstar lot are still unpaved).
Approaching and entering from the north, the stadium really feels like Memorial Stadium's grandchild. There's enough similarity to bring a sense of recognition, but enough difference to see that this is something wonderfully new.
Large staircases, a staple of recent Populous (nee HOK) projects, are all over the place.
Today's scrimmage was merely a chance to get some fans in and test a few systems. There was nowhere near a full house. A crowd of 30,000 was expected, but I'd estimate it at far less than that. The capacity is about 50,000, and it never looked more than about a third full. Still, the extremely spacious concourses were buzzing.
This is very early in the day.
This is during halftime.
Thanks to my two hosts, Red (who provided premium seats at the 50-yard line) and Kirk (who provided a 4-person Loge Box), we got to see portions of the scrimmage from two distinctly different vantage points. Which you prefer is pretty much a matter of taste (and budget). And as we walked around, it was clear that there are views to match any preference -- and many different budgets.
The view from our Loge Box
Here's an idea of what these Loge Boxes are all about. That guy is a waiter with no fans to serve. They seemed to have one server for about every four boxes.
That's Noah and my brother, Chris, checking out the Loge Box amenities
The Loge (pronounced "lodge" by the staff) Box has access to an indoor area and has the benefit of shade and cover. It's kind of like sitting at the top of the stands with a big warming area right behind you.
You can also order food from the menu and have it delivered right to the box, running a tab throughout the game. And during halftime, or if you just want to have a little conversation, you can also retreat to the DQ Club, which is spacious and luxurious.
Hey! That limestone looks familiar!
Our other seats, in section 210, were in the premium seating area on the opposite side. The view is equally great, feeling more intimate with the action than the Loge Boxes. You also have the benefit of sunshine, which will be a very good thing as the season progresses. The seats are comfortable, with plenty of leg room, and superb sight lines.
The view from section 210
Noah is checking out the ample leg room and truly exemplary sight lines.
Auxiliary scoreboard (note to TF principles: this is a very good idea)
There were no tours available, so we were limited to the public areas, but that was still a lot to see. We made our way all the way around the main concourse level, and when it was time to leave, we even made it as far as you can go around the very upper walkway.
I have a lot more pictures to show you, so we'll continue this tomorrow night (when I will select one, maybe two, photos of a cheerleading squad which looked totally ready for gameday, unlike the team, which appears to still be shaking off the summer rust).
The alumni band sounded great.
In the fall of 1981, as the Gophers began their last season in Memorial Stadium, I was a freshman at the U, living as a border at the Deke house (next to Newman Center, right at University and 17th Ave SE). I'll never forget the parade down University Avenue to the stadium, or the unbelievable din which filled the Field House, or the way in which the whole pulse of the campus became Homecoming-centric during that week.
Homecoming was never the same after the team left campus. The pulse didn't change that much, except for those directly involved in preparing for the festivities. It didn't draw in everyone like it had, and never again had that infectious quality which I witnessed in my first fall on campus.
I remember at the time being somewhat indifferent to the Gophers' move (while I was hopeful, but a little apprehensive, for the Twins). Like many (though definitely not all) Gopher fans, I was more or less accepting of what the decision-makers were telling us: that the energy would not change, that the Dome was just as close to the campus as Memorial Stadium, that indoor football would be a boon to the University.
It didn't take 28 years to figure it out, but now we can say it clearly and without reservation: They were wrong. Really, truly, deeply wrong.
(In their defense, briefly, the financial forces were so strong that it may have been impossible to resist. But dammit, they should have. I think that even they knew they were selling their souls, but had to put as good a face on it as possible.)
Yes, son, Memorial Stadium used to be right there, just beyond those gates.
Even though today's event was a meaningless scrimmage, as the team first took the field, and the band once again filled a horseshoe-shaped bowl on the campus with the beloved Rouser, and we all sang with gusto and spelled out M-I-N-N-E-S-O-T-A in our loudest maroon & gold voices, it felt to me like there hadn't been a Gopher football game in 28 years.
"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.
Larry DiVito and staff member (you write the caption)
The sculpture on which millions of kids will one day pose.
Seventh Street circulation
A Killebrew tribute covers part of the wall where the entry doors are located near the escalators.
The renderings and concept model differ here. MOJO thinks this is the perfect place for a party deck. Dave St. Peter seemed to agree!
At one point, we thought these windows might represent one of the so-called knotholes. But nope. Nothing to see here. (Nearest I can tell, there will be no view of the playing field whatsoever from the Seventh Street sidewalk.)
Wood-backed seats viewed through gate 6
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".
No, that's not Kent Hrbek. It's catcher Glenn Borgmann.
We'll be packed into the first five rows of section 136. Hey, Wilson! I'm bringing my glove!
For some inexplicable reason, a lot of the new parks being built these days feature grand staircases like this one.
I'll admit that this makes me nervous. It's pretty easy to step into the path of a train (which is true at various points along the line, but still...)
Flowers and Hall-of-Fame plaques. Very nice.
No offense, TC, but you're pointing exactly the wrong direction if you want people to use the ramp opening to your right...
You can get a hand-carved sandwich, or ice cream while pondering the career of Julio Becquer.
Compare this picture, from the open house in March, with the one above and you'll see that some furniture reconfiguration has taken place.
The plate marker is just to the left.
Looking northeast from the ballpark site (Source: LP)
This is what I was working on while my photo was taken (click to see a VERY BIG version).
Complicated pedestrian crossing
From an earlier visit: Don't bother with those escalators either. They were also roped off. And how about a bench? Or a planter? Or even a trash can? That woman is doing the only thing she can: leaning up against a post to do her texting.
Puckett atrium chef stand menu
Dave St. Peter introducing the first physical models of the ballpark in June 2007
This looks south and shows the track configuration for Northstar. The platform shown is just a placeholder. To the best of my knowledge, concept drawings for this platform have not been released. Keep in mind, this is NOT part of the ballpark project. It is completely separate.
Panels arriving on flatbed trailers in front of the Twins' dugout.
The Guthrie Theater's Wurtele Thrust Stage seating
The spruced up triangle really doesn't show much connection with the ballpark.
Gate 6 Oliva, with the 573 Club looming large over it (I wonder how Tony feels about that)
This will be a great sight on game nights.
I finally found the corner of TF dedicated to the Senators. What a wonderful sight.
Here are some less intrusive things things you can actually get at the ballpark.
Franchise history before Minnesota. (Click to enlarge.)
The littlest Twins fan: Truman
Detail enclosing the main ticket window area
Justin Morneau, mobbed after a game-winning homer on June 9
7:32 PM Glare begins at about the left field foul pole.
Awesome seat. Awesome sun. Awesome hitter. (Photo by Tony Voda, courtesy Jared Wieseler)