My first visit was on my first night at college ... nearly 40 years ago. They bundled a bunch of freshmen into a bus and dropped us off at the Minnesota State Fair. In three hours, they said they would pick us up again.
That's all it took -- three hours to fall in love.
Damn near every state has a fair of some sort. It is an uniquely American tradition. (My friend Steph Harris says the county fair near where she grew up in northern New York is actually bigger and better than the state fair in Syracuse.)
The Minnesota fair isn't far from our house. It is a marvel to see. Think of the oddest food you can name -- something that would never appear in a grocery store (like elephant ears) and you'll find it here. It has the usual elements - a fun Midway, a place called Ye Olde Mill where couples can ride a canoe in (for the most part) the dark for a few minutes, animal exhibits, arcades, fun houses, a rollercoaster, etc.
But where this fair makes its mark is the many unusual exhibits - such as a Butterfly House and Machinery Hill - where people get to check out tractors, motorcycles and fireplaces.
On a day like today (high 70s and sunny), the place will be packed to the brim.
They used to run horse and car races here. They stopped that a while back but they have great outdoor concerts at a big venue (Tim McGraw tonite) and smaller ones with groups like the great Nitty Gritty Dirt Band at others.
But the biggest thing is the people watching. It is the one place where people seem to go to forget their troubles. Oh, politicians have their booths here. But none of them seem to do a booming business. People go to the fair to forget about that sort of stuff. They want to eat mini-doughnuts and cheese curds at their own pace. They want to simply walk outside and enjoy the last days of summer before school starts.
The most amazing thing to me about the fair is that, even though 100,000 plus people walk through the gates every day and the place is huge, you still manage to run into an astounding amount of people you know. Old classmates, old workmates, old girlfriends. You tend to forget your past issues and complaints. You simply smile, walk at your own pace and enjoy the sights and sounds of the place.
In this fast-moving complicated world with cellphones, dvd players, computers, etc., it is a nice break.
Frankly, we need more of these diversions. But this one will do nicely for now.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
A heckuva night at the ballpark
As noted earlier, I recently celebrated my 50-year anniversary of attending major league baseball games. With the White Sox in town and the pennant race afoot, it seemed like a good time to start on year 51. Accordingly, I was at Target Field last night with a dear friend and former co-worker whose only known drawback is being an Avowed Yankee Fan. (Being a New York native, she gets a pass, though, on this one.)
Neither one of us are Twins' types but we know and appreciate good baseball when we see it. A little over three hours after we arrived, we left somewhat exhausted after a rollicking affair that ended with a bombastic home run in the 10th inning.
Although most of the media buzz around town was the news that a certain elderly, gray-haired quarterback was spotted entering the Vikings' digs in Eden Prairie, there were 40,000 of us who were on hand for one of the most rousing ballgames I have seen in years.
As the AYF noted, more people than usual were in their seats at the start of the game. Good thing, too. The locals started fast with a pair of home runs in the first inning en route to a 4-0 lead. The White Sox, three games behind in the standings and skidding fast, snapped back with three quick runs to tighten the game. And we were off and running the rest of the night.
Baseball doesn't often go like this. When it does, the game can become a whirling dervish and players sometimes amaze themselves. Take Minnesota OF Jason Kubel, for example.. On many occasions, Kubel looks at fly balls like a man fighting bees. In the 3rd inning on this night, however, he took off immediately in hot pursuit of a shot up the alley. Not only did he make a great catch, he quickly flipped the ball to CF Denard Span and nearly nailed Chicago's speedy Juan Pierre scampering back to first.
In the bottom of that inning, Jim Thome, a lumbering sort was standing on first base with two out when Danny Valencia launched a ball high off the wall in right field. Thomas runs like an out of control moose and headed home at what qualifies for him as full blast. But the Sox executed a perfect relay and nailed him for the final out of the inning. Have you ever heard 40,000 people go quiet at once? It's weird.
Chicago tied it up in the fourth but Minnesota's Delmon Young, in the midst of a terrific season, untied matters with a line shot into the left field seats.
It was still 5-4 in the 8th. Young was on third with one out when J.J. Hardy rapped a ground ball to second, Young broke for the plate but seemed out by 10 feet. No matter. He stiffarmed Sox catcher A.J. Pierzynski, causing another roar from the stands. For some reason, Pierzynski, who started his career with the Twins, gets booed unmercifully every time he is here. The crowd may have been puzzled as to Young's motives but they liked the idea anyway. (They may think otherwise later. Players have long memories. There will be a moment down the line when a game is out of hand and Mr. Young will get a chance to see the logo of a baseball quite closely. Let's note ahead of time that he will deserve this visit.)
It was still 5-4 when we began a memorable 9th inning. Matt Capps, the closer acquired from Washington a month ago, entered to save the night for the locals. Alexei Ramirez silenced the majority of the crowd instantly when he hit a laser shot into the left field seats. It might be the hardest line drive home run I have ever seen. At first, I thought it hit somebody in the head and bounced back into play. But, no, it was a fan who picked up the ball and nearly threw it from the left field bleachers to shortstop in disgust.
It looked like the Sox might win it right there when they loaded the bases with one out and their best hitter, Paul Konerko, at the plate. But Capps induced the big man to hit into a double play to end the threat.
At this point, the AYF observed something both of us had missed. It was roughly 10:00 p.m., normally the time when many Twins fans get up and leave no matter what the score. Not this time, though. They seemed to sense we were about to witness something memorable.
They were right.
The 10th inning was really something. With one out and nobody on, we suddenly saw a young boy, age 12 or so, sprint from his seat near the left field line out towards Young. The kid stopped short, got on his knees, waved his arms back and forth and bowed down a couple of times. He then ran back to his seat, which was only a section and a few rows from us. The security guards weren't fooled. They ran over to him and informed the lad he had witnessed his last pitch in person. The really weird part is it looked like he was there with his mother and a couple of siblings. They seem puzzled this intrusion wasn't appreciated by the guards ... although the crowd around us roared with pleasure.
I asked the AYF what would have happened if, as a youth attending games at Yankee Stadium, she would have done such an action. I can't remember the particulars of the answer but the general impression was there might be some horsewhipping involved.
This interruption may have inspired the Sox, who promptly pieced together three straight singles for a 6-5 lead. For all the world, it looked like the visitors were about to make a huge statement that the AL Central race was really up for grabs after all. Considering the hullabaloo caused by the visit of the grey-haired gentleman at Vikings' HQ, the AYF and I agreed that, if the school held, this game might end up on page 5 of the sports section today.
I still had this thought when Young led off the bottom of the 10th with a single. Thome strode to the plate. On the first pitch, the lumberjack took a mighty swing ... and missed the ball by a foot. Undaunted, he repeated this gesture and nearly knocked the ball into 4th St. for a game-winning home run.
The grey- haired fellow who garnered most of the headlines in the papers today (and, likely, for weeks to come) should only hope he ever gets cheered this loudly this year. Five minutes after the game, people were still yelling. The AYF and I agreed that it was one of the most astounding things we have ever seen on a diamond... even though our personal teams were not involved at all.
It may be tough to top that one. But the beauty of baseball is there is always another day.
Neither one of us are Twins' types but we know and appreciate good baseball when we see it. A little over three hours after we arrived, we left somewhat exhausted after a rollicking affair that ended with a bombastic home run in the 10th inning.
Although most of the media buzz around town was the news that a certain elderly, gray-haired quarterback was spotted entering the Vikings' digs in Eden Prairie, there were 40,000 of us who were on hand for one of the most rousing ballgames I have seen in years.
As the AYF noted, more people than usual were in their seats at the start of the game. Good thing, too. The locals started fast with a pair of home runs in the first inning en route to a 4-0 lead. The White Sox, three games behind in the standings and skidding fast, snapped back with three quick runs to tighten the game. And we were off and running the rest of the night.
Baseball doesn't often go like this. When it does, the game can become a whirling dervish and players sometimes amaze themselves. Take Minnesota OF Jason Kubel, for example.. On many occasions, Kubel looks at fly balls like a man fighting bees. In the 3rd inning on this night, however, he took off immediately in hot pursuit of a shot up the alley. Not only did he make a great catch, he quickly flipped the ball to CF Denard Span and nearly nailed Chicago's speedy Juan Pierre scampering back to first.
In the bottom of that inning, Jim Thome, a lumbering sort was standing on first base with two out when Danny Valencia launched a ball high off the wall in right field. Thomas runs like an out of control moose and headed home at what qualifies for him as full blast. But the Sox executed a perfect relay and nailed him for the final out of the inning. Have you ever heard 40,000 people go quiet at once? It's weird.
Chicago tied it up in the fourth but Minnesota's Delmon Young, in the midst of a terrific season, untied matters with a line shot into the left field seats.
It was still 5-4 in the 8th. Young was on third with one out when J.J. Hardy rapped a ground ball to second, Young broke for the plate but seemed out by 10 feet. No matter. He stiffarmed Sox catcher A.J. Pierzynski, causing another roar from the stands. For some reason, Pierzynski, who started his career with the Twins, gets booed unmercifully every time he is here. The crowd may have been puzzled as to Young's motives but they liked the idea anyway. (They may think otherwise later. Players have long memories. There will be a moment down the line when a game is out of hand and Mr. Young will get a chance to see the logo of a baseball quite closely. Let's note ahead of time that he will deserve this visit.)
It was still 5-4 when we began a memorable 9th inning. Matt Capps, the closer acquired from Washington a month ago, entered to save the night for the locals. Alexei Ramirez silenced the majority of the crowd instantly when he hit a laser shot into the left field seats. It might be the hardest line drive home run I have ever seen. At first, I thought it hit somebody in the head and bounced back into play. But, no, it was a fan who picked up the ball and nearly threw it from the left field bleachers to shortstop in disgust.
It looked like the Sox might win it right there when they loaded the bases with one out and their best hitter, Paul Konerko, at the plate. But Capps induced the big man to hit into a double play to end the threat.
At this point, the AYF observed something both of us had missed. It was roughly 10:00 p.m., normally the time when many Twins fans get up and leave no matter what the score. Not this time, though. They seemed to sense we were about to witness something memorable.
They were right.
The 10th inning was really something. With one out and nobody on, we suddenly saw a young boy, age 12 or so, sprint from his seat near the left field line out towards Young. The kid stopped short, got on his knees, waved his arms back and forth and bowed down a couple of times. He then ran back to his seat, which was only a section and a few rows from us. The security guards weren't fooled. They ran over to him and informed the lad he had witnessed his last pitch in person. The really weird part is it looked like he was there with his mother and a couple of siblings. They seem puzzled this intrusion wasn't appreciated by the guards ... although the crowd around us roared with pleasure.
I asked the AYF what would have happened if, as a youth attending games at Yankee Stadium, she would have done such an action. I can't remember the particulars of the answer but the general impression was there might be some horsewhipping involved.
This interruption may have inspired the Sox, who promptly pieced together three straight singles for a 6-5 lead. For all the world, it looked like the visitors were about to make a huge statement that the AL Central race was really up for grabs after all. Considering the hullabaloo caused by the visit of the grey-haired gentleman at Vikings' HQ, the AYF and I agreed that, if the school held, this game might end up on page 5 of the sports section today.
I still had this thought when Young led off the bottom of the 10th with a single. Thome strode to the plate. On the first pitch, the lumberjack took a mighty swing ... and missed the ball by a foot. Undaunted, he repeated this gesture and nearly knocked the ball into 4th St. for a game-winning home run.
The grey- haired fellow who garnered most of the headlines in the papers today (and, likely, for weeks to come) should only hope he ever gets cheered this loudly this year. Five minutes after the game, people were still yelling. The AYF and I agreed that it was one of the most astounding things we have ever seen on a diamond... even though our personal teams were not involved at all.
It may be tough to top that one. But the beauty of baseball is there is always another day.
Friday, August 13, 2010
A truly golden anniversary
This Sunday, I celebrate a golden anniversary. It will be 50 years ago that I attended my first major league baseball game. it was a twi-night doubleheader between the Milwaukee Braves and the Cincinnati Reds at wonderful old Crosley Field.
Even a hardcore like me can't remember too many of the details. Thanks to a wonderful site called retrosheet.org, I can report I witnessed the first of hard throwing Jim Maloney's 134 major league wins in a 5-3 decision in the opener. I did remember that my distant cousin Wally Post hit a home run and knocked in four runs. (Guess who the Reds' second baseman was? None other than the volatile Billy Martin.)
I remembered Cincinnati won both games. But I confess I didn't call Bob Purkey, who was a pretty good pitcher for a dozen years or so, tossing a rarity -- a 11-hit shutout in a 4-0 second game win.
(I was only seven years old and would like to think I stayed until the end. My suspicion, however, is Aunt Ida convinced Uncle Cletus that we needed to go home before it was all over. But I digress.)
50 years later, however, I do remember some things as if it were yesterday. I remember the excitement when I saw the lights of the ballpark from I-75 (Oldtimers might remember it as the Millcreek Expressway). I remember the sign for the exit for Crosley Field and damn near peeing my pants as we got close to the park.
Uncle Cletus worked for the Dayton Daily News for years. He had wrangled some great seats -- a couple of rows behind third base. As luck would have it, I had a great view for what happened in the seventh inning. Frank Robinson - perhaps the best player I ever personally play - hit a booming shot that bounced off the big scoreboard in center field. Robinson could really run and, seeing the ball bounce away from Hank Aaron in center field (yes, he was a center fielder that night), decided to take a shot at an inside the park home run. As he got around third base, his feet got tangled up with Braves 3B Eddie Matthews and he fell to the ground. The throw came in and Robinson was tagged out.
That was not the end of the action. Robinson must have thought Matthews tripped him because he came up swinging. I remember it being a pretty good fight. I seem to recall Matthews got the better of it. No matter. Both of them got kicked out of the game. For a seven-year old to see something like that in his first big league game was really something.
Until I went to Retrosheet, I didn't remember Purkey pitching the nightcap but I can see Robinson's home run to left field (off Carlton Willey) like it just happened. It was a high, majestic drive that easily cleared the big screen in left field and may have landed in the front window of the old laundry that was just across the freeway. It's still one of the longest home runs I have ever seen. My only other memory is Robinson absolutely glared at Matthews as he rounded third base. This time, however, there were no punches thrown.
It was the start of a love affair at the ballpark that hasn't gone away to this day. Even if I am going to a day game, I still get excited when I see the lights of my destination. That means I am close to going back into another shrine. It doesn't matter if it a truly historic place like Yankee Stadium (I got to see one game there) or a bland place like the late, unlamented Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia. They are all places where a person can put their troubles aside for a few hours and just enjoy baseball.
I recently passed another anniversary. On August 11, 1968, I entered Tiger Stadium at 11:30 a.m. to watch batting practice prior to a key twinbill between the Tigers and the Red Sox. I left nine hours and 35 minutes later, exhausted after seeing Detroit rally for a 14-inning win in the opener and a four-run ninth inning gamewinning rally in the second game. I am not sure I could last that long today but it sure was fun that day.
My wife summarized my feelings about baseball neatly a while back. She says this conversation happened early in our marriage. I don't remember it but I believe it to be true.
She: "How come you can remember baseball games you went to when you were a kid but you can't remember to take out the garbage?"
Me: "Because I don't have a passion for the garbage."
In case she (or anybody else is wondering), here is the answer for how long this has been going. Come Sunday, it will be exactly 50 years. Not every game was a classic. Not every game had a great fight to it or a memorable finish. But I enjoyed seeing all of them ... and am looking forward to what is ahead in the next 50 years.
Even a hardcore like me can't remember too many of the details. Thanks to a wonderful site called retrosheet.org, I can report I witnessed the first of hard throwing Jim Maloney's 134 major league wins in a 5-3 decision in the opener. I did remember that my distant cousin Wally Post hit a home run and knocked in four runs. (Guess who the Reds' second baseman was? None other than the volatile Billy Martin.)
I remembered Cincinnati won both games. But I confess I didn't call Bob Purkey, who was a pretty good pitcher for a dozen years or so, tossing a rarity -- a 11-hit shutout in a 4-0 second game win.
(I was only seven years old and would like to think I stayed until the end. My suspicion, however, is Aunt Ida convinced Uncle Cletus that we needed to go home before it was all over. But I digress.)
50 years later, however, I do remember some things as if it were yesterday. I remember the excitement when I saw the lights of the ballpark from I-75 (Oldtimers might remember it as the Millcreek Expressway). I remember the sign for the exit for Crosley Field and damn near peeing my pants as we got close to the park.
Uncle Cletus worked for the Dayton Daily News for years. He had wrangled some great seats -- a couple of rows behind third base. As luck would have it, I had a great view for what happened in the seventh inning. Frank Robinson - perhaps the best player I ever personally play - hit a booming shot that bounced off the big scoreboard in center field. Robinson could really run and, seeing the ball bounce away from Hank Aaron in center field (yes, he was a center fielder that night), decided to take a shot at an inside the park home run. As he got around third base, his feet got tangled up with Braves 3B Eddie Matthews and he fell to the ground. The throw came in and Robinson was tagged out.
That was not the end of the action. Robinson must have thought Matthews tripped him because he came up swinging. I remember it being a pretty good fight. I seem to recall Matthews got the better of it. No matter. Both of them got kicked out of the game. For a seven-year old to see something like that in his first big league game was really something.
Until I went to Retrosheet, I didn't remember Purkey pitching the nightcap but I can see Robinson's home run to left field (off Carlton Willey) like it just happened. It was a high, majestic drive that easily cleared the big screen in left field and may have landed in the front window of the old laundry that was just across the freeway. It's still one of the longest home runs I have ever seen. My only other memory is Robinson absolutely glared at Matthews as he rounded third base. This time, however, there were no punches thrown.
It was the start of a love affair at the ballpark that hasn't gone away to this day. Even if I am going to a day game, I still get excited when I see the lights of my destination. That means I am close to going back into another shrine. It doesn't matter if it a truly historic place like Yankee Stadium (I got to see one game there) or a bland place like the late, unlamented Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia. They are all places where a person can put their troubles aside for a few hours and just enjoy baseball.
I recently passed another anniversary. On August 11, 1968, I entered Tiger Stadium at 11:30 a.m. to watch batting practice prior to a key twinbill between the Tigers and the Red Sox. I left nine hours and 35 minutes later, exhausted after seeing Detroit rally for a 14-inning win in the opener and a four-run ninth inning gamewinning rally in the second game. I am not sure I could last that long today but it sure was fun that day.
My wife summarized my feelings about baseball neatly a while back. She says this conversation happened early in our marriage. I don't remember it but I believe it to be true.
She: "How come you can remember baseball games you went to when you were a kid but you can't remember to take out the garbage?"
Me: "Because I don't have a passion for the garbage."
In case she (or anybody else is wondering), here is the answer for how long this has been going. Come Sunday, it will be exactly 50 years. Not every game was a classic. Not every game had a great fight to it or a memorable finish. But I enjoyed seeing all of them ... and am looking forward to what is ahead in the next 50 years.
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