Reflections from a season ticketholder.
Reflections from a season ticketholder
This isn’t the first time I’ve lost a sports team. I’m a still-suffering Hartford/New England Whalers fan. When I was in high school in Lebanon, I would tell people, “When I grow up, I’m going to be a Whalers’ season ticketholder.” I never quite got there before the Whalers moved away. Still have trouble watching an NHL game.
My friends and I wore black arm bands for the last game of 2002, when our AA New York Yankees’ affiliate left Norwich. We quickly embraced the AA Giants affiliate. We were sad again when the Defenders/Giants moved. But we welcomed the short-season, warm weather Connecticut Tigers.
But this one really hits home.
Just when the city and region were celebrating a new 10-year lease for the Tigers to stay at the Thomas J. Dodd Memorial Stadium, with its new Norwich Sea Unicorns name, logo and colors, Major League Baseball threw us a knockdown pitch.
In a restructuring move that made sense to no one at the minor league town level, MLB ripped away major league-affiliated teams from 40 communities, including Norwich. It eliminated the oldest of the minor leagues, our New York-Penn League, which featured a number of beautiful, well-equipped ballparks within easy bus rides of one another, as part of a plan to restructure minor leagues with shorter travel times and better ballparks.
My memories of affiliated Minor League Baseball teams, games and events at Dodd Stadium could fill this newspaper. Of course, there are the magical nights: Opening Day, April
17, 1995. Roger Clemens. David Cone. Dwight Gooden. Daryl Strawberry. (I missed Andy Pettitte night).
I loved the night when Yankees coach, the giant Frank Howard, stood on the concourse, beer in hand, and conversed with fans all game long.
The summer of 2002 was incredible. Legends Night with six (SIX!) Hall of Famers, July 30, 2002. The 2002 Eastern League Championship. But then we lost the Yankees affiliate.
The affiliation with the San Francisco Giants brought Willie Mays to town, with groups of fans (I won the ticket draw) getting skybox meet-andgreets with the Hall of Fame legend.
The Giants left in 2009, and
the following spring, we got the Detroit Tigers short-season team. No more frigid April nights with free hot chocolate.
The Tigers gave us closeups with Denny McLain and Al Kaline. Lines were around the stadium to meet “Mr. Tiger,” one of my dad’s all-time favorites.
Just as fun were appearances by wrestler George
“The Animal” Steele and, one of my all-time favorites, Dwier Brown, the actor who played John Kinsella in “Field of Dreams.” I recommend his book, “If You Build it,” to everyone.
Minor league baseball is the epitome of family entertainment. I don’t have kids, but my nieces and nephews and great-nieces and -nephews grew up at Dodd Stadium. They never sat in their seats, except to eat hot dogs, fries, ice cream or fried dough and watch fireworks after Friday night games.
They spent most of the games chasing (with much success) foul balls in the grassy berms. They ran the bases with Tater, Cutter and CT, had a catch on the field after Sunday games and put their names in for every between-innings contests. Several of them grew up and worked in the concession stands while in high school and college.
I even brought my dog a few times to “Bark in the Park.”
For me, it was always about the baseball. Sitting above the first base dugout watching young, aspiring professional ballplayers trying to become the next Willie Mays or Roger Clemens. Some of them made it. Madison Bumgarner, Mike Lowell, Alfonso Soriano, Pablo Sandoval, Brian Wilson to name a few.
For $10 a night, another $10 to $15 for food and a drink (no beer for me, but beer was a good price, too), I don’t know of a better deal for a summer night getaway in our own backyard.
I know the Sea Unicorns staff is working hard at finding a new fit for Dodd Stadium, whether that be independent pro ball or a summer wooden bat college team. Spring high school games and college games already are in the works for Dodd Stadium, along with summer concerts.
Yes, I will go to those games. But it won’t be the same.
I went to the last Whalers game in Hartford in 1997, and one sign a fan placed against the glass always stuck with me: “That’s NOT What We Meant by ‘Go Whalers!’”