Notes From The Nat

I got a message from a writer I know in LA last week, telling me thatGuy Saddy, a mutual acquaintance, wanted my contact details. I agreedto share them - I like Guy, have met him once, and he used to work formy wife when she was at the National Post (or maybe it was SaturdayNight, or The Walrus - one of those, anyhow) out in Toronto.

But I never got the call from Guy, and more’s the pity, for I suspect he wanted to me to come with him to a ballgame.

Instead, he went solo, and it seems from what he wrote today in the Globe and Mail, that he had a bit of a boring time.

…in the world of baseball, this is what passes for excitement. See, it’s the top of the third inning and the Vancouver Canadianshave loaded the bases against the Everett Mariners. Larry Cobb,Vancouver’s left fielder, is at bat. The pitch comes at him fast andlow. He swings for the fence and there’s a sharp "crack" as wood meetsleather. (Now there’s a handful of sport clich?s that, to a journalist,are as valuable as any hot relief pitcher.) It’s a base hit, goodenough to bring the man on third base home. Vancouver leads, 1-0. Thecrowd cheers. They seem to mean it.

Yes, I know, he called the Aquasox the Mariners. Rookie error. There’sa few more of them in the piece, like where he says the previousCanadians were sold and shipped to Sacramento, and that the C’s play‘one level above amateur’.

He goes on:

I settle into my cheap seat, sip my cheap beer and watchthe game. And watch. And . . . watch. Insert sound of cricketschirping, lone coyote baying in the distance.

And:

Competition for least inventive copywriter must be stiff:The Butler Did It Catering Company likely never anticipated sharing thestadium with commercial painter Mitch Butler, whose tagline is, ofcourse, Let The Butler Do It. No doubt both thought the play on wordsexceptionally clever.

But here’s the thing, before the true believers get all outraged that aguy paid to write snarky humor pieces found some ammunition to besnarky about at The Nat; he’s right. And I’ll tell you why in the fullversion of this post, linked below.

Baseball at The Nat IS boring, if you haven’t been to a game inthree years. It IS a yawner, if you don’t know the back stories of theplayers, and the history of the ballpark, and the intricacies of theplay happening on the field.

That’s why, at ballparks all over North America, teams have investedbig bucks on putting their history on display. Go to a minor leaguegame in Memphis and it’s like walking back in time to the ’30’s. Go toMajor League games, well, anywhere, and you’ll find statues ofex-players, plaques pointing out who came before us, pictures of whatit used to look like, exhibitions of old shirts and equipment andtrivia.

And they’ll tell the stories on video screens for those too lazy tolook - a Bill King retrospective played on the screens as a prelude toopening day in Oakland this season, and I gotta tell ya, nary a dry eyewas found in the ballpark, myself included.

Nat Bailey Stadium has its history - in fact, the walls of theconcourse are fairly dripping with it - but it’s not telling a story,it’s telling 50. You can’t give Bud Kerr a photocopy allowance and say‘cover every inch of the space’ and expect that the average fan willstop long enough to pick up a narrative. You have to do more - putgiant blow-up pictures of the old Capilanos on the outside wall. Giveus massive displays of the Mounties in pitched battle, or the MajorLeague stars of today who played in Vancouver yesterday. Give us NWLdivisional pennants hanging from the rafters. Make the stadium cracklewith history, and with each game, give the fans more than just ascorecard and roster - give them detail.

Instead of just announcing their names when they come up to bat,announce their story. Give them "Coming in to pitch for the C’s, Oakland Athletics 4th round draft pick, Chad Lee!" or "Now at the plate, the Northwest League’sleading base stealer…." etc. Spend a few minutes each dayhighlighting one player and his story, and put it in with thescorecards so that people can learn who they’re yelling for.

A day at the ballpark is a treat for those of us who know thedifference between a curveball and a cutter. It’s a great time forthose of us who can look at a pitch and say "ooh, that looked like ittopped 95mph" and not be full of crap saying it.

But for the fans, the people who come out because they haven’t been ina while, they need more. They need a speed gun hooked up to thescoreboard telling them how fast that last pitch was. They need to knowmore than a name to care about whether a guy gets a hit or not. Theyneed more than sumo wrestling to feel like they’ve done more than siton an aluminum seat and drink $6 beer for two hours.

The hawkers do their best to keep the fans entertained, and the gamedaystaff try hard. But what’s needed to really give the fans a reason tocome back twice a week instead of twice a month is a commitment todoing more than what everyone else in the minors - or Vancouver sportin general - is doing.

I suspect that new team ownership will see that commitment on display,and when it is, the Guy Saddy’s of this world will find it a littleharder to make fun of the sport we dig.