A Turner Page

Matt Bruce

An unwritten rule of high school quiz competition is that championships are decided in the most humid parts of the country in the middle of June. One competition has always been based in Orlando; another has moved between Houston and New Orleans in the past decade or so.

Playing in that tournament in 1990 gave me a chance to see my first major league game, at the Astrodome. This year, the company for which I write questions held its championship in Atlanta, where it was pure coincidence that the Red Sox were in town.

My first trip to Turner Field followed hours of moderating hard-fought competitions, which in turn followed an overnight flight across the country. From their performance Saturday night, one might have thought it was the Red Sox who had taken the red-eye. Between the stifling air and the stifled Boston offense, I was nearly falling asleep by the sixth inning.

The game itself was pretty simple: Terry Mulholland combined with Kerry Ligtenberg, Rudy Seanez, Don Wengert and Mike Remlinger on a five-hit shutout. Call it classic Braves baseball without any of the marquee names, not even Jason Marquis. Mulholland left with an injury but never went to the DL. Seanez blew out his arm a few days later. Remlinger finished the game in a non-save situation and may have just lost the role of closer back to John Rocker.

Andres Galarraga, who missed last year recovering from lymphoma, homered in the fourth inning. Walt Weiss, whose skill set deeply eroded last year, tripled in the fourth. Weiss hurt himself and gave way to Rafael Furcal, whose best years are ahead of him but whose first DUI was just hours removed. As this column goes to press, Galarraga is fine and Weiss a bit ginger, yet Furcal is the one to hit the DL.

According to official sources, Furcal is 19 years old, which would leave him guilty of underage drinking. HBO has reported that he is actually 23, which would mean he is merely a hot shortstop prospect instead of a future Hall-of-Famer.

Jose Offerman, himself once a hot shortstop prospect but never a future Hall-of-Famer, came off the DL to record three of Boston's five hits. He also made an amazing play to his left in what might have been his last start at second base for some time.

Pete Schourek, the other half of our not-exactly-Maddux-and-Pedro pitching match-up, was lifted in the fourth inning with the Red Sox down 5-0. In to mop up for him came a certain knuckleball artist, prompting this comment in thick Georgia drawl from the man behind me: "Is that ol' Tim Wakefield? Remember when he beat us in Pittsburgh eight years ago?"

It was indeed Wakefield, though the spectator might have been excused for his uncertainty: At Turner Field, the gulf is vast between the right field top deck and the playing field itself. Some of my favorite parks are intimate -- Wrigley, Fenway and Pac Bell Park all come to mind -- but Turner Field is bowl-shaped and mammoth. The only signs of quirky character are Tooner Field (a cartoon playground) and the obligatory Coca Cola displays in left.

There are, however, the tomahawks. Imagine upwards of 50,000 people swinging red foam objects in rhythm. Now imagine groups of a dozen people beating each other over the head with their red foam objects. For a game this uneventful, the beatings and swordplay far outweighed the swinging and chanting.

After the game, we waited for the shuttle bus. We crowded onto it. We got off at Five Points. We waited for the Marta train. We crowded onto it. We got off at the hotel. We slept, woke up, officiated playoff matches and caught a ride to the airport to fly back across the country.

Our airline, a certain Atlanta-based carrier, rerouted me and my roommate to Los Angeles. I wanted to advise people to avoid this airline, yet I have a $500 travel voucher from them that I might as well use sometime. We arrived at 2 a.m. Pacific Time, caught a bit of sleep, put on dirty clothes and flew home. On the LA-SF shuttle I remembered that I had a ticket for the Giants game that night.

Pac Bell Park was warm, but not the 103-degree heat seen two days later nor the swamp-like humidity of the City Too Busy to Have Character. Joe Nathan and Rob Bell are not household names yet, but unlike Terry Mulholland and Pete Schourek, their future stretches out ahead of them, Dusty Baker's whim permitting. I sat in the bleachers, but well within shouting distance of both ".238" Griffey and "Big -- BIG!" Dmitri Young.

Ellis Burks went deep. This wasn't the first time a mediocre player on my fantasy team homered in my presence -- Orlando Cabrera accomplished that feat last month. But Burks also drove in three runs and left the game a triple short of the cycle. I was yelling for Dusty to leave him in for that triple, bad knees and all.

Bobby Estalella went deep, prompting cheers and knowing smiles from those who have seen him come into his own. Then Marvin Benard went deep, prompting shock from most of the bleachers and an "I told you so!" from his biggest fan, a redhead in the third row. We let her vent before beginning the "we still want Calvin!" chant.

Joe Nathan batted in the bottom of the seventh. With an eight-run lead and about 90 pitches under his belt, he batted for himself, the bullpen empty and silent. But guess who hit the most exciting home run of the evening? Another first for my ballpark attendance.

All told, Turner Field not the best place to see a regular-season game, certainly inferior to Pac Bell Park. In the playoffs, I can imagine a rocking joint, while at this point it's hard to picture post-season games in China Basin until at least 2001. Maybe a big stadium is the right venue for a "big" game, like the Pedro-Clemens showdown that I meant to write about this week.

Just wake me up when the game gets good and make sure the airlines get me home in one piece. Thanks, by the way, for all the musical suggestions. This weekend I'll go through a lot of e-mail and next week comes the column that you, the readers, write.

about the author

Matt Bruce's is currently building a four-story houseboat so he can get the "Wrigley effect" at Pac Bell Park. Suggest taunting Dodgers instead at mb@strikethree.com.