Subject: "Get To Know 'Em" Date: Thu, 22 Aug 2002 18:58:01 -0400 From: Don Dudley Organization: Sun Microsystems, Inc. To: "Dudley, Don" Okay, here's the last one (for now). Whew! Good thing I don't have a deadline on these ;-). On Sunday evening, the Red Sox were in Minneapolis to play the Twins at the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome. ESPN picked up the game and moved it to prime time, the first time the Twins have been so carried since 1996. No surprise, I encountered a level of enthusiasm integer multiples above that at either of the Florida parks I attended earlier in the weekend. Hey, there were more people in the left field stands two hours before the game, urging Manny to oblige them with a BP drive, than there were at either Florida game in entirety. I think if there's a season-ruining strike, I'd feel the worst for these fans; they really love their team. They gave the Twins a prolonged standing ovation when they took the field in the top of the first; how often do you see that for a random regular season game? The subject of this email is their motto, and I believe they've come to know this team pretty well. Sure, they have the Vikings, Timberwolves and Golden Gophers, but the winters are long and the mosquitos are huge (isn't that why they decided they need to play indoors there?). Last week Commissioner Bud Selig characterized the return of joy to the Metrodome this summer as an "aberration" and claims they would remain a prime contraction candidate even if they won the WS. As you might imagine, this has thrown the city into an uproar. So, the Twins are doubly relishing every victory. What a shame if they were to be cut off, dominating the AL Central by 15-20 games, especially if ace Eric Milton can come back from his knee surgery in mid-September like he hopes. The Metrodome was opened in 1982. It is the only air-supported ballpark. It is the only stadium in the world to host the WS, the MLB All-Star Game, the Super Bowl, and the NCAA Men's Basketball Final Four. As I've said, I didn't buy advance tickets for this trip with the possibility of a strike. I knew Florida would be no problem, even with Barry coming in, but I wasn't sure what to expect here. My hotel was right downtown, overlooking the Mississippi River at St. Anthony's Falls. It was only about half a mile from the park, so I just strolled over at about 4:30 pm for the 7:05 game. A parking lot ad a block and a half from the stadium caught my attention: $3.75 all day or for a Golden Gophers game, $4.00 for a Twins game -- not exactly Boston's Back Bay here. The game was sold out except for the upper deck, so I bought a lower deck seat down the left field line from a very pleasant scalper for $25, $17 face value. Before I went inside, I bought some hot, roasted Bavarian nuts and a lemonade. The ticket lady wouldn't let me in with my lemonade bottle even though it was plastic, not glass. As I finished chugging it down, I noticed it was Mike's Hard Lemonade with something like 5.2% alcohol content. Yikes! My body hasn't imbibed in quite a while, so I was pretty toasted -- numb cheeks and ears. Inside, I was amazed to see a young girl wearing a winter parka and an elderly lady wearing a down vest. Indoor and outdoor temperatures were both right around 70 degrees. I bought an extra long Chicago Dog to help me sober up ;-). It came with plenty o' condiments, including two large pickle slices. The Twins have retired five numbers: Harmon Killebrew (#3), Tony Oliva (#6), Rod Carew (#29), Kent Hrbek (#14) and Kirby Puckett (#34). Five more are in the Twins Hall of Fame: owner Calvin Griffith; Herb Carneal, broadcaster since 1962; pitcher Jim Kaat; manager Tom Kelly; and pitcher Bert "Be Home By Eleven" Blyleven. While we're thinking of history, is it just me, or is anyone else having trouble choosing just five of the 30 baseball's Memorable Moments http://mlb.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/mlb/events/memorable_moments/mlb_memorable_moments.jsp? From what I heard in the stands, Jack Morris will be getting lots of votes for his 10-inning shutout in Game 7 of the 1991 Twins WS victory. The game was another good one, at least until the bottom of the 8th when the Twins broke it open with three runs to win it 6-2. Even though there were no errors charged, it was tough to watch the Red Sox defense open the door for the Twins' third run in the fourth (Merloni and Nixon letting Doug Mientkiewicz's popup drop in right field) and for the 8th-inning rally (Daubach hesitating on Christian Guzman's leadoff grounder to first before trying to beat him to the bag). In the middle innings, a beach ball got hit into left field. The entire stadium booed. It wasn't immediately obvious who hit it out there, but it didn't take long for the security folks, perhaps with the help of some proximate fans, to find him and escort him out, to great cheers. I was pretty impressed with this, but they let me down just an inning or so later when they executed "The Wave." During the 7th inning stretch, they followed "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" with "Proud To Be An American" while some touching images were shown on the Jumbotrons. As I've remarked to a couple of you, one of the greatest things about this activity and the reports is that it invariably allows me to re-connect with some old friends. E.g., today I found out that an old friend has given up his house in Boulder, Colorado, for an apartment in Battery Park, Manhattan! (Am I missing something, here ;-)?) I also occasionally get challenged good naturedly. A guy Tuesday night questioned as to how I could tell the difference between an East- and West-Tennessee accent. Turns out I have pretty good ground to stand on there, with long-time acquaintances from Memphis and Nashville, plus I asked the Trop fan behind me Saturday evening exactly where he was from, just to be sure. A fan yesterday morning deferred to my memory, but thought that Dick Allen's anti-AstroTurf quote was "If a _horse_ can't eat it, ..." rather than "If _cows_ can't eat it, ..." Given this guy's credentials and the fact that I only heard the quote indirectly several years later, I thought sure I was wrong, but I looked it up and got lucky. According to Elysian Fields Quarterly (and many other sources) http://www.efqreview.com/NewFiles/v19n1/numbersgame.html (great story on baseball cards), Dick said "cows," not "a horse," but this fan had me going there ;-); thanks for keeping me honest! I guess I should seriously research some of this stuff before I dispense it. This alias has now grown to just over 100 people, some of whom are real serious, knowledgeable fans! (Nobody has ever asked to be removed, owing I guess to my relatively rare traffic, but I've taken a couple people off over time that I feared might be irritated.) Boy, would I love to get everyone on the alias in a room someday, or better yet at a ballpark! This fan went on to relate a story where Dick actually hit a ball out of sight into the night at Comiskey Park. Yes, Dick Allen could hit. In 1968, I had a summer job as a geophysicist with Shell Oil in Bakersfield and made several trips down to see the Dodgers. (I was so Dodger-centric that I never thought to try to get over to see the Angels, e.g., to see Mickey Mantle in what was his last season.) When the Phillies came in, I saw Dick hit some line drives in BP where I thought he would absolutely tear the cover off the ball. Let me tell you the infielders and other players in the field, taking grounders and flies, gave him their full attention. Which reminds me of the two greatest BP performances I've seen. I mentioned this in my "Tell It Goodbye" report on Candlestick/3COM in 1999, but allow me to elaborate a bit. The most impressive, also in 1968 at Dodger Stadium, was by Hammerin' Hank Aaron. He just kept hitting ball after ball up into the left field pavilion one Sunday afternoon. They were typical of many of his hits, not long flies, but rising liners. The amazing thing about it was his effortless swing. My recollection is of his reputation for having tremendous power in his wrists. He actually looked like he was swinging something like "half speed." I doubt anyone could guess the other one, unless you've read that Candlestick report recently. It was 30 years later, Darryl Strawberry as a Yankee at Fenway. Many of you must know that not much of that combination rings in my heart ;-), so there must have been pure merit involved. Darryl hit one long fly after another way up into the right field bleachers. Okay, not quite up to the "red seat," commemorating the Splendid Splinter's 502-foot 1946 blast off Freddie Hutchinson, but I bet 10 of them were one-third to two-thirds of the way up to the red seat. As I've said, this makes all 30 of the existing cities/franchises that I've visited. (There are six, soon to be seven, parks opened since 2000 that I have not visited.) I saw my first MLB game in 1962 (more about that later), so by one account, it took me 40 years to do this. But by another account, it's taken a mere 34 years, as the longest it's been since I visited any of the current MLB cities is August, 1968, when I went to the Houston Astrodome. (Shell sent me to their headquarters for "geophysicist school" that summer.) I never thought it would take so long. By 1991, I had all but two of the NL parks. I can't really say which is my favorite park. Being a Dodger fan and since I saw my first game there, I'm partial to Dodger Stadium. I think it was way ahead of its time and has stood the test of time very well, unfortunately, a lot better than the City of the Angels itself has. Similarly Coors (when my cousin Roger and I were there this past July 5th, I was noticing how absolutely perfect the grass and infield dirt are, and didn't they do a fabulous job pattern-mowing the grass for the 1998 All-Star Game?) and Fenway (nothing I've experienced as a spectator comes close to the electricity and tension at Game 6 of the 1975 WS) hold spots in my heart, but the grandstand seats are really uncomfortable for a guy with a 36" inseam. Although I've been there only one time each, I really enjoyed Turner and Jacobs Fields and what's not to like about Camden Yards? Before I sign off, likely for the rest of the season, let me get back to my first MLB game(s). My first game was at Dodger Stadium, August 29, 1962. Dodger Stadium had just opened that year. We had decided to take our first family vacation. My Dad, as a musician, certainly didn't get any paid vacation; in fact, it was up to him to arrange for substitutes at his playing jobs. This was my first time leaving the state of Colorado. Until then, it was actually my goal never to leave the state of Colorado. I was only 14 and my Mother was loathe to drive so far in strange places, so we went by Continental Trailways Bus. This trip was going to force me to miss the state championship fast-pitch softball tourney in Canon City, so I was cranky about that. The only thing that appeased me was the prospect of going to a Dodger game. We didn't stay in any motels; we rode the bus, all night if necessary, between friends' houses where we could stay. In Southern California, we stayed with my "Uncle" Bud and "Aunt" Hazel in San Bernadino. Pueblo had been a Class A affiliate of the Dodgers, and we thought our resultant connections would afford us some superior treatment at Dodger Stadium, but it didn't happen. The Dodgers were having a banner season. Maury Wills stole 104 bases to break Cobb's record of 96; Tommy Davis led the NL in hits, BA and RBIs, setting a still-standing Dodger record for the latter; Koufax established himself as the dominant pitcher in the game as of early July, but suffered a serious issue with his pitching hand and was ineffective the remainder of the season, leaving the Cy Young for 25-9 Drysdale (back when there was only one Cy Young award in MLB). Fortunately, a bus ran from San Bernadino to the games, complete with game ticket. Cincinnati was playing the Dodgers. The defending NL champions weren't too shabby either -- Frank Robinson, Vada Pinson, Leo Cardenas, Johnny Edwards and perennial Dodger-killer Joey Jay on the mound against Drysdale. With Koufax on the shelf, I couldn't have asked for a better matchup. Drysdale was 22-7 coming in and Jay was 20-10. 49,603 were in attendance. We were pretty high up on the third base side, amazingly just a few rows away from a good friend of ours from Pueblo who just happened to be there that night. The Dodgers won the game 2-1 in 13 innings. Duke Snider, in his last season as a Dodger, thrilled me with a triple to left center, driving in Frank "Tower" Howard to tie it with two out in the bottom of the 9th. Johnny Roseboro, who just passed away last Friday, got a bases loaded single in the 13th to win it. He was called out for passing the dawdling Snider, who then had to hustle to 2nd to avoid the force which would have been the 3rd out. Roseboro, Wills and several others played in Pueblo on their way to Brooklyn/LA. My Dad got to know Roseboro pretty well, as "Gabby" would come to where my Dad played piano and organ after the games. Ed Roebuck won it, throwing four innings in relief of Perranoski and Drysdale, but Jay went the distance for the Reds tossing a mere 178 pitches. He recently had a couple of starts with only two days' rest, so the Reds gave him four days' rest before his next one. What a classic game! My second game was at Shea Stadium, also newly opened, on August 4, 1964. My Dad didn't come on this trip as we were gone too long for him to be without pay. We took the train this time, the major attraction being the New York World's Fair. The Giants and Willie Mays were in town, and of course they still had a huge NYC following. They also had Hiller, Haller, J. Alou, McCovey, Cepeda and Jim Hart, with Gaylord Perry on the mound. The Mets countered with the likes of Kranepool, Cannizzaro, Ron Hunt, George Altman (who played for Pueblo in 1958 when they switched to a be Cubs affiliate), Joe Christopher at cleanup, Billy Klaus, Roy McMillan and the infamous Tracy Stallard on the mound. It looked to be a mismatch, but it turned out to be a corker. There were 53,498 at this one and we were way up in the right field upper deck. My goal was to get a picture of Willie Mays with my trusty Brownie camera. I obviously wasn't going to get much of an image from the right field upper deck, so around the 5th inning I talked my Mom into letting me get down as close as possible to home plate. It was a totally different game from down there, and I couldn't bear to go back up after snapping a couple photos. The game went into 8th and then the 9th tied 1-1, and I _still_ didn't go back, waiting for another Mays at bat. As it got into extra innings, I finally went back. Smoke was coming out of my Mom's ears. Around the 7th inning, my brother went to buy a souvenir plastic Mets batting helmet. That late in the game all the escalators were headed down, and he needed to go back up after his purchase. Not able to find a stairway, he took the lead from a couple of talented locals and ran up the steps, against the tide. At the top, he stumbled and fell, cutting his knee on the "teeth." He had to be taken to Flushing Hospital for stitches. Since I was nowhere to be seen, my Mom had to let the ambulance take Duv while she went back up to her seat to wait for me. When I got back, I told her that I knew the game wasn't going to end, which of course was totally bogus once the game reached the bottom of the 9th. Puerto Rican riots were also being rumored in her section, adding to her anxiety. Pretending we were natives, my Mom and I went out onto Roosevelt Blvd and flagged down a cab to Flushing, of which we had zero knowledge. It turned out to be short cab ride. When we went inside the hospital, we looked down a corridor and saw this figure, lying on a stretcher. He was wearing a striking blue batting helmet, smiling big as you please, content with his treasure. They hadn't stitched him yet, giving precedence to a girl who had been hit in the face by a line drive foul behind home plate. As we headed on the subway back to Union City, N.J., where we were staying, the lights were still on at Shea! I couldn't believe that my Mom had zero interest in returning to see the conclusion of the game. I found out the next morning that Cepeda had gotten a bases loaded single in the 11th to put the Giants up 3-1. Jim Hickman got a two-run pinch hit single in the bottom of the 11th to gamely tie it for the Mets. Jim Davenport singled in a run off Galen Cisco, in his third inning of relief, to win it, 4-3 in 14 innings for the Giants. None of my "Say Hey" pictures came out :-(. A couple of years ago, following a lead in "Baseball Digest," I acquired electronic copies, i.e., text files, of the box scores and play-by-play of these first two games. My third MLB game wasn't bad either. Briefly, it was June 8, 1968, my first week on the job at Shell Oil. The Shell Social Club planned a bus trip to Dodger Stadium, and they just happened to pick the game where Drysdale eclipsed Walter Johnson's record for consecutive scoreless innings. I had been at the Tropicana in Las Vegas on my way out from Boulder. Drysdale shut out the Pirates and Maury Wills for his sixth consecutive shutout that night. The next morning I woke to the news of Bobby Kennedy's assassination. Let's hope for the best between now and August 30th. Regards, Don P.S. These reports are crudely archived at http://RunyonField.org/Baseball/