I recently blew an opportunity that most baseball fans would kill for—and I'm glad I did.
I was in Phoenix last weekend for my company's annual managers' meeting, which is a chance for a bunch of radio people to get together, attend a few seminars and have one too many cocktails. Part of the event involves an afternoon of leisure time on Saturday, which is the final full day of activities before everyone flies home.
It just so happened that on this particular day, the Arizona Diamondbacks were taking on the New York Mets at the recently renamed Chase Field. And, it turns out, we have a bunch of baseball fans in the company, so a gaggle of them decided to go over and check it out.
I was supposed to go, and, in fact, had planned to go. But, still battling a bit of jet lag even after two days of meetings, I decided to take a pass and soak up some of the Arizona sun. At least that's what I told myself. But the reality is, I've never been a huge fan of National League baseball. Moreover, I've never really had a desire to go watch a pro baseball game anywhere but Fenway Park, because I believe that's the quintessential baseball experience.
I've had numerous arguments with various people over the years regarding this belief. My best friend from college swears Camden Yards in Baltimore is the best park in the league, and often chastises me for my slavish devotion to Fenway—and my unwillingness to go to other parks and compare.
My reply is, I don't need to drive a shiny new Porsche to appreciate my Chevy Cobalt. And judging by the reaction of some of the people who went, my instincts were right on the money.
"It wasn't bad, but it didn't really feel like you were at a baseball game," said my fellow news-talk programmer Dan Mitchell from WKBK in Keene, N. H. "It was a good game, but it was a very different environment."
Mitch is a lot like me in that he, too, views Fenway as sacred ground. But, like any good journalist, he went to watch the D-backs with his eyes open, and came away with some interesting observations, like the fact that Chase Field is basically in the middle of nowhere. He said the only thing surrounding it was parking lots, which pretty much describes most of the Phoenix I saw. In fact, at one point in the trip, I commented that the entire area reminded me of what it would like if we colonized Mars and dropped in a shopping mall.
According to Mitchell and a couple of other folks who were there, when they pulled up in front of the stadium, there was no one outside. And I mean no one. No crowds, no scalpers, nothing. Of course, because of the 12:35 start time, they arrived in the second inning, but even when the game is underway in Boston, there are still people milling about outside Fenway. No so in the desert, apparently.
Mitch was also struck by the number of families in the park, which, on this day, had the retractable roof closed and the air conditioners, if you can believe it, working at full capacity.
The company group managed to score right field grandstand seats for about $25 a pop, which is a nice price—except that they weren't actual seats. The section they were in just had long benches, which is actually a setup that's in place at a number of minor league parks, including Hadlock Field in Portland, Maine, a little "mini-Fenway" where two years ago I caught a game that featured a center fielder named Jacoby Ellsbury.
Mitch was also stunned by the fact that there were no lines at the concession stands despite the presence of 35 thousand fans. "The only lines, believe it or not, were at the bathrooms," he said. "The bathrooms are much smaller than they are at Fenway for some reason."
I didn't bother to ask Mitch to compare and contrast Chase Field to Fenway. I didn't need to. We Red Sox fans understand how good we've got it, which is why people pitch fits whenever there is talk about demolishing Fenway in favor of a setup more like Chase, or, more likely, Camden Yards. There's a history there and a feeling that would never be replaced by a retractable dome, club seating or air conditioning.
Sometimes we don't have to sample another product to appreciate our own, which is why I'm glad I chose to spend the day poolside rather than eating sushi in a crowd full of soccer moms who'll probably never get the chance to savor the kind of baseball experience that we in this region take for granted every single year.
