Baseballhead:
Breaking Training

Michael Cox

Ahoy, matey! It's a landlubbin' Baseballhead, since they took our dinghy.

I tuned in to Fox Sports Net last week hoping to catch the replay of the Mets-Cubs season opener only to find Keith Olbermann self-righteously ranting about something or other, which would have been okay if his own network hadn't been spending millions to bill him as a buffoon.

In case you hadn't noticed, this first regular-season Baseballhead of 2000 is in random-notes format -- a nice way of saying I've got a short attention span this week.

Having said goodbye to Tiger Stadium, the Astrodome and Candlestick "3Com" Park at the end of last season, it's time to usher in their replacements. The latter two parks, while certainly each holding a place in baseball history, will likely be missed only by hardcore sentimentalists.

The Astrodome was notable only for its dome and unequalled wealth of parking spaces, as the rest of the park was unremarkable (at least, after they tore down the old scoreboard). Enron Field my well be the only new park with an upper deck lower than its predecessor. That plus more home runs for Jeff Bagwell -- it's a net gain for Houstonians.

I'm not sure what the deal is with the retractable roof, however. How many days do they expect to not have 90% humidity? Then again, they tried to have it both ways in Phoenix, leaving the populace apparently unimpressed (at least unimpressed enough not to spend 20% more on tickets in 1999).

I don't even think I have to tell San Franciscans how they made out on the Pac Bell Park deal, which not only replaces the unattractive Stick but also was mostly paid for via sponsorships and seat licenses. Buy lots of dogs and sodas, folks -- for a change, the owners have actually incurred debt for you.

And maybe Willie Mays will make one last catch in the PBP outfield, so the last remaining reason not to tear down Candlestick is out of the way.

Meanwhile, over in Detroit they'll be shedding a tear for The House Ty Cobb Cursed In, as they realize just how much higher the upper deck is at a modern ballpark. Fortunately, they're already well prepared for the concession prices. I saw only one game at Tiger Stadium, but I found it almost as enchanting as Fenway or Wrigley. It's too bad they can't keep both.

All in all, I am of the opinion that new ballparks are generally an upgrade over the existing edifice, and happily watched as the Kingdome was imploded last week. Like many who waxed eloquent about their fond memories of the concrete pustule, I saw my first major-league game there (Mark Langston's first career win in 1984), and close to a thousand since. However, my lasting memories are the many times I cursed the place, and I know I wasn't alone.

I thoroughly enjoyed the Mets-Cubs opener at the Tokyo Dome last week, even if it was played too early, both hour-wise and day-wise, to feel like a true Opening Day. Although the games counted, in front of a neutral crowd they just had too much of an exhibition feel, like when the Brewers come to town.

And would someone tell me why the media has this inordinate fascination with anyone who would eat sushi at a ballgame? It seemed that every single story began with something like, "what does spicy tuna roll have to do with the infield fly rule?" Sushi makes a damn excellent baseball food, but I suspect most reporters have about as much idea about sushi as Terry Bradshaw.

Maybe this will open the door to better US-Japan baseball cooperation. And by that, I mean maybe someone will actually broadcast the Japan Series here in the States. I'll even refrain from sending them a box of termite larvae when the broadcasters mention how fans eat sushi.
about the author

Michael Cox has a few ideas about how sushi could be delivered to your seat at ballparks around the country, but he'd like to hear your suggestions as well. Suggest it be sent your way via slingshot at mc@strikethree.com, but don't forget the wasabi.

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