Pack the place with citizens of Red Sox Nation.

Could be…a few years hence. Or it could be the Fremont Athletics or the Silicon Valley Athletics. We don’t know yet. What we do know is that the A’s appear to have a deal to build a new stadium on land owned by Silicon Valley kingpin Cisco Systems in southern Fremont. More details will be forthcoming at a press conference on Tuesday, November 14.

As we see it, the A’s really wanted to move to San Jose, which is now the 10th largest city in the United States. But MLB considers San Jose to be part of the San Francisco Giants territory–the Giants currently have a Single A affiliate there–so no can do.

Fremont is in southern Alameda County, A’s territory,and closer to San Jose than Oakland is. And those who assess the long-haul value of these things know that public transit connecting Fremont to San Jose will eventually be built. In fact the feds have approved a final environmental Impact statement (FEIS) for a BART (train) extension to Warm Springs, which is between Fremont, where the BART ends now, and San Jose.

Not that the new ball park (likely to be called Cisco Field) will be anywhere near the current Fremont BART station. But then, the folks who are looking to have the A’s move there are not really thinking about fans to the north. We are too working class for them. They want the southerners, at least those who survived the dot-com crash, and have some money left over for seasons tickets after the rents and mortgages in the very pricey SIlicon Valley are paid. Folks like that probably have cars, so they don’t have to worry about whenever it is BART gets around to building a connection between Fremont and San Jose.

Assuming, of course, that all the people I have been interviewing since the end of 2001 about something called Peak Oil are wrong and gas prices and electricity costs for the lights for all those night games don’t turn out to be major league nightmares.

You know what they say it means to assume.

More Later.

K.R.

I caved, I froze, I spent money.

I know I said I was not going to go to the April 28 game between the S.F. Giants and the AZ Diamondbacks, but, at basically the last minute, I ended up going anyway. That morning, Bay Area native Eric Byrnes was once again on KNBR, the sports talk station in San Francisco where he occasionally guest-hosts in the off-season. Not knowing that this was going to happen, I slept through it. But someone pointed out to me that they would probably post the interview later in the day. Sure enough, I listened to it just after 5 p.m. and while I was sure Eric wouldn’t get the start against Jason Schmidt, I decided I ought to go. Due to changes in my work schedule, it was the only game of the series I could attend. Maybe, if Byrnes and I were lucky, he’d get in the game later.

Byrnes did not play; he was sent out to the on-deck circle as a pinch-hitter for Johnny Estrada with two outs in the ninth and the score already 10-2 Giants. So I got to see him literally, as he took a few practice swings right in front of me (albeit three decks below where I actually was). But Shawn Green made the third out, so Byrnes never entered the game. So I am going to describe to you here what and who else I saw.

This was my first visit to "Whatever They’re Calling It This Year" Park in San Francisco, which opened in 2000, some three names ago. It’s a truly beautiful place. As is typical of the current generation of new ballparks, the motif is red brick and exposed metal. The paint is dark green. Bricks are generally not considered our friends in earthquake-prone California, but this place, which I think was inspired by Camden Yards in Baltimore, gives you the impression that ballparks should only be made of bricks. (I assume they reinforced the masonry against our occasional shakes).

The one area in which I find fault with the looks of the place is the grass. There are no lawn stripes as we are now used to seeing in many other parks, so the field lacks the appearance of depth that the stripes give. Murray the Groundskeeper needs to teach the folks in San Francisco how it’s done.

The main entrance is called the Willie Mays Gate and there are lots of palm trees in front of it. Palm trees are something most people connect with Southern California, and in fact, the inner Bay Area is about as far north in the state as they can go. Winters are too cold for them further north. On Saturday, May 5, the San Francisco Chronicle reported that the city has spent 1.9 million dollars on them since the Loma Prieta earthquake of 1989. (They cost $10,000 apiece). I’ve got a few in my neighborhood and they line the main drag to the Oakland International Airport. They are a bit weird to see here. We have deciduous trees, the kind that change colors and drop leaves in the fall. We have redwoods and other evergreens. Palms seem out of place this far north. But in front of the Willie Mays Gate, they look just right. Now, if only they would put a statue of Willie Mays there.

Walking up to a window to buy a ticket is a bit of a chore. The windows nearest the stadium exit of the MUNI light rail sell MUNI tickets. The windows next to MUNI are for Will-Call. It takes walking to the other side of the stadium, by the Bay and the Lefty O’Doul Gate, to find the place where you can buy a gameday ticket. Along the way, I passed the large windows displaying giant photos of some of the Giants, accompanied by quotes about baseball from people other than the guys in the pictures. Go figure. "Matt Morris has nice eyes," I thought.

With the sun still up, the temperature was reasonable enough for me to dispense with my sweatshirt. This gave the usher who directed me to the next open ticket window the opportunity to read my Byrnesblog jersey. "Eric Byrnes?!" he said, with that tone of voice that implied an additional "We’ve got Bonds and Alou and you’re rooting for Eric Byrnes?" I said nothing, but thought, "Yes, Eric Byrnes!" And oh, the things I am willing to do for my favorite player…like pull out my Master Card to pay $25 for a third deck seat, the $16(!) bleachers having been sold out before I got there. (I only had a $20 on me). For the first time in my life, going to the ballpark had become an occasion of debt.

The Giants are one of those teams that charge extra for a Friday, Saturday or Sunday game. April 28 was a Friday. At that rate, going to the entire series, which I had hoped in February to be able to do, would have cost $75, not counting transportation or any food. Our "National Pastime"? Only for that part of the nation that has way more disposable income than I do.

With my home printer not working, I did appreciate the fact that the Giants sell a scorecard for a dollar apart from their $5 program. As a token of unbridled optimism, I had brought my looseleaf binder of Eric Byrnes Pitch Count Reports to the stadium. It gave me something on which to lean the thin cardboard scorecard as I filled it out.

Stadiums nowadays have numerous activities one can pursue beyond watching the game, buying food and souvenirs or going to the bathroom. At "Whatever They’re Calling It This Year" Park, one of those activities is a walking course. I accidentally found myself on part of it while walking up the stairs to the third deck. Since I didn’t know my way around the park, I didn’t see the ramps until I was more than halfway up the stairs. "I already had my workout at the gym this morning," I muttered to myself as I trudged my way up to the third deck.

On the way up, I noticed a quote painted on the side of a beige building next to the stadium proper. It was the little monologue from W.P. Kinsella’s novel "Field Of Dreams" that was made famous by James Earl Jones in the movie: the part where he says that people would indeed come to the ballpark in the cornfields because it would remind them of "what once was good and could be again." (As I left the park later that evening, my eyes fell on another quote in painted inside another auxiliary building. This second quote was by actress Tallulah Bankhead, who proclaimed that there had only been two geniuses in the world: "Willie Mays and Willie Shakespeare.")

It turned out to be Kelley Moore Cap Night, so I got an orange baseball cap with the SF insignia that I wore over the plain black baseball cap I was breaking in for potential use for the cover shots of my book. If at some point Eric Byrnes ends up with the Giants, I will be ready with the appropriate millinery. (Two hats and my sweatshirt over my three-quarter length-sleeve Byrnesblog jersey and I still froze).

My actual seat was in the next to last row of section 310, the very section I had thought I might try when I looked at the seating charts online in February. The ticket seller was almost apologetic when he told me how high up it was, but in terms of pure view, if not price, it was just fine. It was comparable to where I liked to site for $8 and later $10 at the Coliseum in Oakland: on the right side of the diamond, in line with the pitcher’s mound. My one complaint is that from this section, one cannot see the full center field scoreboards detailing results from other games. You have to look across the park to a corner of the second deck "ribbon" strip of ads, where, one by one, the scores of other games are displayed.

But otherwise, the view is excellent, not only of the field, but of the Bay. I could see most of McCovey Cove and the kayakers who were waiting for balls to be hit into the water. Once it got dark, and the temperature dipped into the hypothermia zone, only one yellow kayak, paddled by an older black man, was left in the cove. He was featured on the big screen between innings. Eventually he disappeared also. It got C-C-C-old after sunset.

And speaking of the scoreboard, the Giants are to be commended for not having too much nonsense on the board between innings, or too much junk in general. Yes, there was a "Show Us Your VISA Card" promotion. (At the Oakland Coliseum it’s "Show us your BART (Train) ticket"). But, thankfully, there were no costumed characters having races around the field and no scantily-clad cheerleaders atop the dugouts. And there wasn’t some sort of game or contest every half inning. (I’ll never forget being at the Coliseum the day the crowd voted for "catching a Northern Pike" as the sports clip they wanted to view in the middle of the second inning). There was something cute at the end of the sixth inning: They played a recording of Frank Sinatra singing "Strangers in the Night" :

Strangers in the Night,
exchanging glances
wond’ring in the night,
what were the chances
we’d be sharing love
before the night was through, etc.

The cameras then video’d heterosexual couples, some of whom knew what was going on and were already kissing. Others, who found themselves on the big screen in center field quickly got the point: you were supposed to kiss. One elderly couple was shown on the screen. They thought about it and finally kissed, and the stadium crowd of over 39,500, including me, roared its approval.

The scoreboard also featured the usual birthday, hello, and love greetings between innings. It turns out I was not far from a group of young people celebrating the "Sweet Sixteen" of one of their number. There were also two marriage proposals posted, but no word if the ladies who received them said "yes."

There was another group of people sitting directly in front of me. Twenty somethings, mostly female, with more interest in taking digital photographs of each other than watching the game. This got to be annoying when they would pose right in front of me, obscuring my view of the pitcher’s mound. At least one of the guys in my row (not part of this picture-taking gaggle), noticed that the big screen not only displayed batting averages but slugging percentages. He asked me what a slugging percentage was. WOW! Someone was actually paying some attention! I was pleased to explain it to him.

I have no report on the food. Since I was watching both my weight and my wallet, I did not buy any comestibles. What came around were cotton candy (circus food, not baseball food as far as I am concerned), ice cream, (not in this weather, even if I weren’t watching my weight), peanuts ($4.50 for a bag the size of which costs $1.49 at my local convenience store) and churros. (No way do I want to spend $3.75 for a long thin tube of fried dough. But every time they came by, I thought of the MLBlog "Buy me some churros and Cracker Jack"). A few rows down from me, a woman came back from a concession stand bearing two small, interesting-looking glasses that I thought might have been filled with either parfait or hot chocolate. I found out a week later that such glasses were characteristic of Irish Coffee.

While I saw precious little of Eric Byrnes, I saw a lot of Barry Bonds. He looks huge even from the top of the third deck. He had a good day: 2-4, including a double, 1 IBB and 2 R. But I could see that he had trouble running, especially on his double. It was a hit into the right field corner that a runner of even average speed would have stretched into a triple.

I am not into the Bonds mania–remember, I went there in the hopes of seeing Eric Byrnes, not a Bonds homer—but I joined in on the heckling when Bonds was intentionally walked in the eighth inning with the score already 7-2 Giants. (Heck, even the picture-takers in front of me stood up for this one!) The scoreboard showed various pictures of chickens and fans hanging another rubber chicken from the wall. And just as Red Sox Chick says "Do NOT Disrespect the Ramirez," I will say "Do NOT Disrespect the Alou." Moises homered right after the walk. Considering how hot Mo was in April, walking Bonds to get to him was pure folly and the D’Backs paid for their mistake.

In addition to Bonds, Alou and Giants starter Jason Schmidt who got the win, I also got to see the major league debut of Giants’ second baseman Kevin Frandsen. His first at-bat was a bummer, a double play. But then he got HBP his second time up and that got him going. (He says his idol is Astros’ 2B Craig Biggio, who now holds the MLB record for HBP). He scored that inning. Frandsen got his first MLB hit, a single, his third time up. The ball was pulled out of play to be given to him. On the night, he had 3 singles and three runs scored, and went on from there to get hit by pitches 5 times in his first 7 games.

On my way out of the park, I saw the statue of the high-kicking Dominican Dandy, Juan Marichal. Some guys were getting their picture taken in front of the all-gray statue. A few others were sitting on the pedestal. It makes a great meeting place if you are in the area.

After the game, I noticed that not all the signage had been changed since they changed the park’s name again. Oh well, I guess we have to create jobs in the Bay Area and changing signage when ballpark names change will keep people working. "Whatever They’re Calling It This Year," it’s beautiful. If you are a baseball fan coming into the Bay Area during the season, put aside some of your vacation  or expense account money for a trip to the ballpark in San Francisco. Just dress in layers for the changing weather.

K.R.

News Item from Carrie Muskat/MLB.com 1/10/06

CHICAGO — Wrigley Field may be just what Jacque Jones needs. The natural grass will be welcome for the new Chicago Cubs right fielder after spending seven years on the Metrodome’s harsh turf.

"My body was saying, ‘Thank you,’" Jones said Tuesday at an introductory news conference. "There’s no substitute for grass."

There indeed may be no substitute for a well-watered lawn when it comes to keeping baseball (and football) players healthy while running, diving, sliding, falling or otherwise pounding the ground in practice and in games. But there is something that could help the players deal better with artificial turf. It’s called padding. They use it under carpets. Why not put more of it under the turf for a softer, more user-friendly field?

Yes, I know things are a lot better than in the days of the original Astroturf. But players are still suffering turf-related wear and tear that is subtracting from their productivity and longevity.

Now, "My Friend, the Yankees Fan" would simply say, "Ditch the domes." But, in some places where it gets outrageously hot, like Houston and Phoenix, you are seeing at least retractable domes. I think other really hot-summer places, like Denver and Baltimore, should have included retractable domes on their new stadiums, and not just for the players: fans shouldn’t have to risk heat stroke to attend a game, especially given what it costs to buy a ticket to a major league game in most cities.

Likewise, a dome makes sense in places where it rains a lot, such as Seattle. In fact, from what I can gather from the Deep Fried Fish blog, regular afternoon showers in Miami discourage attendance at day games. Who the heck wants to ditch work early to get soggy? (Well, not THAT kind of soggy, anyway!) Rainouts (and early in the season, a few snowouts in the northern cities) are bad for business. And if any place needs a retractable dome, it’s Arlington, Texas, where the public address announcer asked third-deck fans to evacuate when dry lightning came into the area during the two Rangers’ home games to which I listened in 2005. Why pay to risk electrocution?

Then, of course, there are the places like Tampa Bay and Jones’ former professional home, the Minnesota Metrodome, where the permanent dome always blocks the sun. Blocking the sun kills the grass, so they need artificial turf. But they don’t need artificial turf’s attendant subtle and not-so-subtle injuries.

How is it that we can put robots on Mars, but we can’t come up with safer, more comfortable playing surfaces?

Soft landings, Jacque!

Kéllia Ramares
Oakland, CA