Stadium challenged

In a recent post at Viva El Birdos, LBoros reminisces about all the different major league parks he’s been to.

His list and the ensuing lists from VEB commenters got me thinking about my own travels through major-league parkdom, and my list is pathetically short. Check it:

• Busch Stadium II
• Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum
• Candlestick Park
• New Comiskey Park
• Wrigley Field
• Busch Stadium III

For such an allegedly avowed baseball fan, that list kind of blows. Travel is expensive, though. That’s my excuse, anyway.

Busch Stadium II, the old Concrete Doughnut, was where I saw my first MLB game and where I’ve seen the bulk of the rest. I don’t have many memories of going to games as a little kid, other than seeing the Expos a lot and some obnoxious kid who apparently was not a Dane Iorg fan. The coolest recent game I saw there was on Willie McGee Day, when Rick Ankiel earned his first major-league win. I had tickets for what turned out to be the occasion of Ken Griffey Jr.’s 500th home run but had to give them away because I couldn’t get off work.

Back in ‘89, I simply slid into place traveled to San Jose, Calif., to spend a couple of weeks with my Uncle Phil. We took in a couple of games while I was there, the first of which was at Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum. The A’s-Rangers tilt featured a pre-steroid young Mark McGwire taking knuckleball master Charlie Hough way deep into left field.

The second game we went to on my West Coast swing was at Candlestick Park, which is no longer being used for baseball, thankfully. It was the middle of July, and Phil, my cousin Joe and I were huddled under a blanket. You’re familiar with the phrase, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.” Although that quote apparently is falsely attributed to Mark Twain, it readily applied to the July 13 tilt against the Pirates. Besides the chill, the only thing I remember from this game was my uncle’s attempt at snaring a Kevin Mitchell foul ball. It caught him square in the palm and turned his hand around 180 degrees because of the velocity. What a wuss.

The next two on the list, New Comiskey Park and Wrigley Field, were when my dad and I met Phil and Joe in Chicago when they were in the midst of their own ballparks trip in the summer of 1990. I don’t recall the games because I was fully into my surly-15-year-old phase, which lasted a good four or five more years. I do remember sitting in the third-base grandstand at Wrigley. I can say I’ve been there, so I’m fine with never going back.

And finally, my first and only trip to Busch III was on April 14, when Chris Carpenter took the hard-luck 1-0 loss because the Cardinals couldn’t solve Aaron Harang, who actually drove in the only run. That game saw Juan Encarnacion lollygagging an Aaron Freel single into a double. At least that didn’t decide the game. I also saw Encarnacion in my hotel the next morning. I waved but was too nervous to talk to him.

I really need to expand on this list. The only other professional park I’ve seen games in is Robin Roberts Stadium at Lanphier Park. Good name, lousy facility.

Pressing for change

A kibosh may have been placed on recent speculation that St. Louis would get the all important 2009 All-Star Game (“This time it means something!”).

Apparently, the Baseball Writers Association of America has some issues with the press box at Busch Stadium and asked MLB to withhold awarding 2009’s game until the space meets their exacting standards.

My first reaction was as such: “Shut your collective bitch-ass up and quit whining.” When it comes down to it, these folks get paid to watch baseball closely, a pretty sweet gig if you ask me.

But as I further read the story, I came to realize that maybe the BBWAA was onto something. Joe Strauss, who perhaps knows about the press-box conditions more than most, lays it all out:

Cardinals officials waived architect HOK’s standard design, opting for a less costly, exposed press box offering neither air conditioning nor heat.

Other complaints include poor sight lines from the box’s second row. Media members not sitting in the front row are unable to see the stadium scoreboard or follow fly balls unless they lay their heads flat on the table.

City fire marshals on several occasions ordered closed a media workroom when smoke from an adjacent concession area permeated the wall separating the two.

Ahhh, I get it. Once again, the skinflinted ownership group took the cheap route. And they wonder why Bernie Miklasz has such an H.O. for Bill DeWitt and company.

Windy night at Busch

Courtesy of Deadspin.

Bewitched, bothered and bewildered

Um … is this happening? Seriously. It’s either Bizarro Jerry or Negative Zone time in St. Louis. It sure feels like a nexus of negativity anyway. Maybe there was something we weren’t allowed to see in all that Cubs pre- and post-game talk in May of “This (insert flubbed cut-off throw / stupid two-outs-in-ninth-inning bunt / bad matchup / Michael Barrett backalley bare-knuckle brawl here) is what happens when things aren’t going your way” on the radio. Clearly, everyone, from “Jughead” Marshall on down to G-Unit (Dusty’s nickname for him on the radio today, not mine), was holding voodoo dolls of Albert Pujols, Scott Rolen, Jason Isringhausen and Mark Mulder and jabbing pins in them faster than that weird prince dude did to poor Indy.

Cover your heart, indeed. And there is no time for love in St. Louis right now, Dr. LaRussa.

Where to begin? Let’s start with Spooky, for whom this is the third straight loss off the mound. The general nervousness in Cardinal Nation over this guy has to be rising again. 16 earned runs in 17 1/3 innings since May 17. My thought is that Jockitchy went a little overboard for this guy when he went after him. In fact, I’m surprised that he didn’t end up with the Cubs, where his suckitude would likely be greater. Seriously, methinks your pitching could be in trouble.

Smells like team spirit

My first impression of baseball Nirvana?

Beautiful. Wonderful. Bitchin’. Effing kick-@$$.

Or something along those lines. That new stadium is absolutely gorgeous. Outside, inside, up, down and all over the place. I took some pictures, but you can’t possibly imagine how fantastic it is there from blog posts and telecasts. You have to be there to truly drink its beauty. As well as its $8.25 cups of industrial beer.

Who has tickets (slight return)?

Um, I do.

That’s right. After all my incessant whining last month about not being able to buy tickets when they went on sale, on a lark I tried again… and success!

I managed to snag what I think were the last two tickets in the place (I’m sure they weren’t; it makes for a better story to say that, though) for Friday’s tilt against the Reds. If you are in the area, drop by Section 360 and say hello.

From this picture “borrowed” from John at The Birdwatch, I think Section 360 is that little sliver in the upper deck adjacent to the unfinished section.

The last time I saw the Reds was a few years back, and the Cardinals were cruising until the ninth, when Izzy promptly coughed up the lead and we ended up losing. Gosh, that sounds familiar… coincidence? Uh, yeah, probably. Anyway, I was with my friend Jeff, and we were sitting about three rows from the top of The Stadium on an incredibly hot, comically humid day.

There were some idiot Reds fans a few rows down, and if I wasn’t The Best Fan In Baseball, I would have pelted them with ice cubes from one of the 17 Cokes I had that day. I told you it was hot.

Forget the past. I can’t wait to get down there. I’m sure Mrs. 26th Man isn’t too thrilled, but she’s getting beer out of it, so she can’t complain too much. We’ll have to stop by the Build-A-Bear place to get a couple of Fredbirds for The 26th Girl and Boy. I’ll pick one up for you, too, Dan.

I found a typo!

So I’m watching Tuesday’s telecast of the exhibition between Springfield (Mo., unfortunately) and Memphis, when the camera pans the display of retired numbers:

1: Smith … 2: Shoendienst …

Huhwhat? Shoendienst? I believe that should be Schoendienst. Like with a “C.”

Talk about your bad signs.

The new ballyard

It’s actually starting to look like a stadium! Check it out (photo by Tom Gannam/The Associated Press):

Every time I look at that photo, taken March 30, the first thing my eyes go to is the parking garage beyond center field. I presume the Ballpark Village will take care of that. The B.V. also could take care of the view of the Old Courthouse, which would be a bummer. Of course, one could say that Busch III kind of took care of the view of the Concrete Doughnut, but that is so much Mississippi River water under the Eads Bridge.

The next photo is courtesy of Taydawg7’s gallery at Webshots:

As the stadium was being built, I often wondered aloud to a co-worker friend, a native St. Louisan, if one would be able to see the Famous Barr Building from along the first-base side. His answer? “Dude, I don’t know.”

Well, I am happy to report that yeah, I think you can. If you take your mouse pointer straight up from the left-field fair pole, the building to your pointer’s immediate left should be the Famous building, which according to the fantastic Web site Built St. Louis, used to be the Railway Exchange building.

I’ve never lived in St. Louis and never have really spent a whole lot of time wandering around downtown when I have visited, but damn, the Famous building is just beautiful. As far as buildings go, anyway. It’s nice that fans will have a great view to ogle in between innings.