Going to a ballgame just isn't the same

Posted on Tue, May. 11, 2004

To read the Contra Costa Times article, click here.

You can't say that the Oakland Athletics didn't get action on their wishes.

For some time now, A's ownership has been campaigning for a new stadium. The notion was to build one in downtown Oakland, where the city might be able to experience the redevelopment explosion that took place in other areas, including San Francisco, with the advent of downtown stadiums.

With all due respect for whatever Oakland's mayor has done for the betterment of the community, he is not known as a great sports enthusiast. So prospective sites that would, could (and probably should) have attracted many to the downtown area were designated for other uses, regardless of potential revenues from the restaurants, bars and shops the influx of money-carrying folk would have frequented.

Take heart.

The A's have a new stadium. McAffee Stadium, no less.

Of course, it bears remarkable resemblance to Network Associates Coliseum, which was an expanded and uglified version of the Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum. Heck, McAffee Stadium even sits on the same ground.

Actually, McAffee Stadium is just another moniker that "The Net" soon will adopt. Still, the change of name brings with it a sense of renewal.

McAffee will feature great groundskeeping, easy access ... all the stuff a park needs, including two tenants, the A's and the Raiders. Forget the fact that the right-field seating area bears something less than artistic beauty. It has plenty of room for folks to put their bottoms in seats ... hence the revenue that is required to pay the zillions of dollars to athletes and still leave some for management.

Admit it, this isn't a bad place to watch ... or play ... a game. A very good place, matter of fact.

The thought may be old-fashioned, but once upon a time, that was the designated function of ballparks ... a place to play, a place to watch.

As noted, it wasn't that long ago when the stadium formerly known as the Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum was regarded as an excellent venue. Lots of us can recall when the same could be said for Candlestick Park, but when the newness over there wore off, all we heard was how cold and windy it was.

Seals Stadium at 16th and Bryant in San Francisco, first the home of the Seals (and Mission Reds), then the first West Coast home of the Giants, was a jewel. Also cold and foggy, but architecturally and functionally excellent, just too small ... and not enough parking.

Lots of us, however, liked the Oakland ballpark better, even though it was smaller and definitely older. It was "fan friendly." So were Sick's Stadium in Seattle, Wrigley Field in Los Angeles, and the older but very popular sites like Vaughn Street Park in Portland and Gilmore Field in Hollywood.

These parks were obviously too small for major league ball ... and also probably would have fallen down by now.

But they did have one thing about them, something they shared. The fans came to watch, of all things, a baseball game.

It's not like that anymore.

Now, to be acceptable, a stadium must have the likes of dot racing, sushi, varieties of sausage delights, wine and seven-dollar beers. That is, if there's enough money left over after parking. No more simple, functional scorecards, which were inexpensive and used, oddly enough, to keep score. People were watching the game, not message boards. You can still have something to keep track of the scoring ... that is if you dig through the advertising-packed "programs" after paying several dollars for the experience.

In the days of yore, going to the ballgame could be a regular family experience without having to mortgage the house. How can we develop young baseball fans if they can never, or rarely, get to a game?

In San Francisco, at SBC -- or whatever it's called this week -- Park, they have now made it possible for folks to use their laptops to check their e-mail when they're not on their cell phones. Once upon a time, folks used their laps to hold hot dogs, sodas, beers or under-a-dollar peanuts.

Ah, how times change.

The game itself now takes back seat to the ballpark and its concessions, novelties, laptops and cell phone access.

The game itself is sublimated to the park. Even on a local level. Some of Alameda's high school kids, for instance, feel offended playing games at Washington or Lincoln (**** Bartell Field) Park, choosing instead to go to the nifty but remote College of Alameda field. Forget that past athletes who had much more experience and talent were more than happy to play at Washington or Lincoln.

But that was then, this is now.

Fans and players not that long ago weren't all that concerned with the site, as long as it was a place to play the game. Spectators came to watch the game, maybe grab a hot dog or something, and sit, relax and enjoy the experience.

That, of course, was when the game, not the ballpark, was king.

And, again, you know what?

Everyone went home happy.

How happy depended on whether their team won or lost. But they savored the pure joy of a day at the ballgame ... and talked about the game itself, instead of whether cell phone reception was bad or the sushi was not up to their standard.

How times have changed.