Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, October 12, 1993 TAG: 9310120060
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By RALPH BERRIER JR. STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
The telling sign came in Toronto at a bar called the Loose Moose, a favorite hangout of professional athletes. Baltimore Orioles players Mike Devereaux and Jeffrey Hammonds were there, and former boxing champ Roberto Duran showed up later with enough bodyguards to protect a small South American country.
I got Duran's autograph. I bought Devereaux a beer.
Did I forget to mention that Mike Devereaux was paid more than $1 million by the Baltimore Orioles this season? And I bought him a beer! He was kind enough to give us his autograph, though.
I say "us" because, as you shall see, I am not alone in my sickness. Five other friends - Jimmy and his fiancee, Anna; Jimmy's brother, Jay, and his wife, Kim; and Big Mike, our comic relief - joined me on this "Fields of Dreams Tour '93." We rented a van and visited six baseball towns - Pittsburgh, Toronto, Cooperstown, New York, Wilmington (Del.) and Baltimore - and saw seven games in nine days, taking note of the different perspectives on baseball in each city and burg.
It was the best of times. We saw a classic Orioles-Blue Jays game in the heat of the American League East race. It was the worst of times. We saw the Mets.
Our first stop on the excursion was PITTSBURGH, where the hometown Pirates were hosting the Atlanta Braves. We saw two games, not counting the first four Braves batters of the first game, the third of whom was Ron Gant, who hit a three-run home run.
I also missed two of the next six home runs that followed, including the one Pirate rookie Ben Shelton hit while I was at the concession stand dropping Big Mike's nachos (Big Mike mourned the loss the rest of the trip, sighing whenever we bought ballpark food: "Those nachos in Pittsburgh looked really good").
Upon entering Three Rivers Stadium and taking in the aroma of grilled dogs and beer kegs, Jimmy quipped: "Nothing smells like a ballpark."
"Unless it's a brewery built next to a slaughterhouse," I chimed in.
Three Rivers Stadium is a circular, Astro-turfed superstructure whose distinguishing characteristic is that it looks exactly like half the other stadiums in the National League. Inside, the young Pirates, strangled by tight purse strings, continued their rebuilding process, which means they lost both games badly.
Pittsburgh is looking forward by casting an eye to the past. Six-packs of locally brewed Iron City are embossed with portraits of Pirate great Roberto Clemente, the Hall of Fame outfielder who died 20 years ago in a plane crash. Pittsburgh is in the midst of raising money to build a statue in Clemente's honor, which they hope to have in place before the 1994 All-Star Game to be played at Three Rivers.
Clemente spent most of his career roaming the spacious outfield of Forbes Field, which was demolished in 1973. Home plate rests under lucite in Forbes Quadrangle on the University of Pittsburgh campus. The centerfield brick wall also remains, still covered with ivy. There is a marker on the street showing where Bill Mazeroski's home run left the park to win the 1960 World Series.
After Sunday's game we headed across town to Forbes Avenue, ate at Pirmanti Brothers ("They put the fries on the sandwich!" Big Mike exclaimed) then found the old landmarks, tangible links to a glorious past. nn
There is nothing in baseball to equal the spaceship that landed in\ TORONTO and called itself SkyDome. To that, I say, "Thank God."
SkyDome is a marvel, to be sure. It has several distinguishing characteristics, not the least of which is the fact that it is the only stadium in baseball that looks like half a boiled egg sitting atop a Ritz cracker. Ritz is already promoting that fact in its advertisements around the city. Honest.
Another feature of SkyDome is that it has a hotel, two restaurants (including a Hard Rock Cafe), a gym, numerous gift shops and a retractable roof that can open or close in about 20 minutes. Oh yeah, it also has a baseball field, on which the defending World Series champion Blue Jays play.
The first night in Toronto, Kim, who could talk her way into the Russian Parliament if she wanted, got the Orioles autographs at the Loose Moose. Jay egged her on because he got Devereaux's autograph for nothing. I, meanwhile, bought drinks for millionaires and ran up bar tabs the size of Ontario.
The game in SkyDome was outstanding - Baltimore rallied from behind and took the lead on Cal Ripken's three-run homer in the eighth inning but the Blue Jays prevailed 7-6. In the game program, I read that Blue Jay "centre fielder" Devon White plays excellent "defence."
The aforementioned ballpark smells were not to be found. Level 200, where normal folks could not tread, featured a carpeted concourse and cushioned seats.
The 1991 edition of Total Baseball said SkyDome was designed by a guy "who prior to designing SkyDome had never been to a baseball game. It shows." nn
Everything about COOPERSTOWN is a swing and a myth. Cooperstown is named after the father of writer James Fennimore Cooper, but inside the Glimmer-Glass Cafe you're more likely to find an old poster of the Boston Red Stockings than a copy of "The Leatherstocking Tales."
The National Baseball Hall of Fame was preparing for Reggie Jackson's induction. Reggie merchandise was selling rapidly in the gift shop. The Hall was undergoing a renovation, so the player plaques had been moved to a temporary room. It was the only letdown of a wonderful afternoon spent with immortals.
Anna said she got teary-eyed when she saw a painting of the late Thurman Munson, a great Yankee catcher of our youths.
There's nothing like baseball in NEW YORK.
Here's how things have gone for the Mets, the worst team in baseball whose off-the-field behavior has been as abominable as its on-the-field play: While in Los Angeles, outfielder Vince Coleman tossed a firecracker the equivalent of a quarter-stick of dynamite that blew up in a little girls' face. The Mets, who passed Leona Helmsley as the leading headliner in the history of New York tabloids, returned from the road trip and found Coleman's picture adorning their game program, which was obviously printed in advance.
"P.R. people get fired for stuff like this," Big Mike opined.
Earlier this season, Mets pitcher Bret Saberhagen threw a firecracker and squirted bleach at reporters.
"Dumb and Dangerous," blared a tabloid.
The Mets lost, so we didn't leave disappointed. Frank Tanana pitched well, but he lost to Charlie Hough and the expansion Florida Marlins in the first-ever match-up of over-40 pitchers in National League history.
We left Shea Stadium, which is distinguished by the fact that planes from Kennedy Airport constantly fly over it. Also, it is the stadium where the Boston Red Sox have most recently blown a World Series. While stuck in traffic, we listened to Coleman's press conference on the radio. With his wife and one of their sons present, Coleman sounded sincerely remorseful about the incident.
"He Never Said `I'm Sorry,' " trumpeted the next day's headlines.
On to Yankee Stadium. What other ballpark can say its batter's box was consecrated by the spikes of Babe Ruth and anointed by the spray of line drives off the bat of Joe DiMaggio? What other sport can make a slobbering-fool journalist use words like "consecrated" and "anointed" when describing a ball field?
Among other things, Yankee Stadium is distinguished by the fact that it is not in New Jersey. For the time being. Owner George Steinbrenner has given the Bronx Cheer to the surrounding neighborhood, and he talks of moving his club to a House That Ruthlessness Will Build, to a safer neighborhood with better parking.
Being a lifelong Yankee fan, I cannot imagine the Bronx Bombers ever becoming the Meadowland Maulers, Secaucus Smashers or Jersey Joe Walcotts. Being a baseball fan, however, I could see what George meant. The Yankees were coming off the road within a game of the Blue Jays, yet Yankee Stadium was half-full for the thrilling win over Milwaukee. Never mind the fact that there were more assaults inside the park (one) than outside (none) this season, New Yorkers apparently perceive the neighborhood as being violent.
Before the game, some teen-age boys and girls were roughhousing just outside the stadium. Eventually, one of the girls slapped one of the boys. Another girl threw a stick that hit the same boy.
"You're why they're trying to take the Yankees away from us," the boy yelled, almost jokingly, for the tourists to hear. "No violence!"
As we left the stadium, legendary public-address announcer Bob Sheppard asked fans to have a safe trip home. He could scarcely be heard over the symphony of car horns in the jammed parking garage.
Some of the most amazing sights we saw were in WILMINGTON, where the first-year Carolina League member Blue Rocks were packing brand new Judy Johnson Field night in, night out. We got to the park about six hours before Saturday night's game to get tickets and were told no reserve seats were left. We had to come back when the gates open at 7 p.m. to get general admission tickets. We were told the line started forming around six.
More than 5,000 fans were on hand to see our very own Salem Bucs get Rocked, and virtually everyone was wearing a Blue Rocks shirt or cap. Above the stands, 16 luxury boxes were full. We, meanwhile, wore our Salem caps.
Wilmington's support and marketing of minor league baseball is commendable, but I missed the friendly confines of Municipal Field.
One day, historians might look back at BALTIMORE and say that Oriole Park at Camden Yards saved baseball. Whereas SkyDome provided a frightening glance at the infinite dangers of excess, Camden Yards stopped the madness and took a proper course into the future by turning an eye toward the past, a recurring theme on this trip (another recurring theme was: " How much for a beer?!"). Before the game, we strolled to the Babe Ruth Museum, which is located two and a half blocks away from Camden Yards at 216 Emory Street in the house where the Babe was born. Also inside are the Baltimore Orioles and Maryland Baseball Halls of Fame.
On this Sunday afternoon, the Orioles were trying to hold on to their pennant hopes. Just five days after seeing them lose a great game in Toronto, we saw Baltimore lose a not-so-great game to the Boston Red Sox. It was the last game of our trip.
Southbound on I-95, we picked up a live radio broadcast of Reggie Jackson's Hall of Fame induction speech. Typically, Reggie was funny and full of himself. The crowd, packed with Yankee fans, cheered. Near the end of his speech, Reggie became melancholy. He spoke of his sometimes-strained relationship with Munson and his always-tumultuous relationship with manager Billy Martin.
"I don't know why Billy and I couldn't be friends," said Jackson.
Reggie concluded his speech by pontificating on the state of baseball. He talked of heroes. He said those in power need to "humanize" the game again in order to stay in touch with fans. He became emotional, choking back sobs. It was an eloquent, extraordinary performance.
"What a perfect end to our trip," Anna said.
For a moment, anyway, baseball was human again. For a moment, the player-owner squabbles and million-dollar salaries that have "dehumanized" the game were brushed away like infield dirt. For a moment, I was glad I bought Mike Devereaux that beer.
"Reg-gie! Reg-gie! Reg-gie!" hollered the crowd.
The station started to fade.
The crowd kept cheering but the station was going, going, ... gone.
Berrier Jr., who covers sports for the Roanoke Times & World-News, is distinguished from other sportswriters by the fact that he actually had to pay to get into the games on this trip.
by CNB