By: Jonathan Moore
“Baseball people are generally allergic to new ideas; it took years to persuade them to put numbers on uniforms, and it is the hardest thing in the world to get Major League Baseball to change anything – even spikes on a new pair of shoes – but they will eventually…..they are bound to.” -Branch Rickey
My wife, Jessica and I had the privilege to attend a game in Atlanta marking off another ballpark from my bucket list. 26 to go, for those asking. While the game and experience marked as one I will never forget, I could not help but reflect on the time Jess and I had “explored” around Turner Field. We were checking into our hotel at the time, a block from Turner Field. I asked Jess if we could just make a quick stop. She agreed, of course, I mean she married into the baseball shenanigans! We drove over, pretty sure parking illegally and walked to the entrance. The faded green gates were locked up tight as if they were keeping memories from escaping.
I asked my wife, “Why would anyone want to get rid of this old stadium?” She shrugged her shoulders and peaked through the gates, just to peak my interest I’m sure. I tried my best to capture all that Turner Field had to offer as I peered through the rusty gates, wondering who stood here before me. My wife pointed over my shoulder and asked, “who is that statue?” I glanced over and said, “Hank Aaron.” She asked, “How do you know?” Hoping she would stump me on my baseball knowledge. I smiled and said, “the swing.” However, she would ask me a question, that made my knees buckle like 12 to 6 curve that I could not take a crack at and still bugs me to this very day.
“How come its not at the new stadium?” I tried to give a cliché answer like, “out with the old, in with the new.” She seemed satisfied with the answer and we pursued our exploring. It finally hit me like a comebacker to the mound, baseball is changing and there ain’t a damn thing we can do about it. After making a couple of passes around the outside of the stadium looking for an entry, I ran my hand down the gate one last time and with a sigh of disappointment, we left.
As I take apart the quote like the seams on a baseball, I cannot help but have a little anxiety thinking about what baseball will look like in twenty years. I believe Branch Rickey was right when he said, “baseball people are generally allergic to new ideas.” I would need more than a lifetime supply of Benadryl. I cannot shake the fact that baseball is and will continue to change. A runner on second after the 12th inning during a tied game? My anxiety level is rising higher than the Texas Rangers 2018 Opening Day ticket prices. My kids will never know the sleep deprivation I received from staying up to watch a 19-inning baseball game take place between the Red Sox and Blue Jays this past season. Sure, no one stayed up late when I was a kid or told me stories about game winning homers. I read about them, watched them on television and sat in the stadiums as a fan.
Last year at Opening Day, my friend cracked a joke of how I wanted the real ticket stub and in desperation between innings I would search the grounds of SRO (standing room only) for a ticket stub. I found one, it sits in a box collecting dust but it made my day. That stub will host a memory someday, along with a foul ball hit by Shin-Soo Choo that I snagged off the wall during batting practice earlier that day. I can tell my kids someday of how their dad stood for 9 whole innings in a 98-degree game, only to watch his favorite team lose. Why would I do that? Why would anyone want to hang onto ticket stubs or programs or travel for miles or days to attend a game that they have zero ties to? To say I have been? No. Not that at all. Honestly, it is to simply capture the best memories I could ever ask for.
I was fortunate enough to witness so much this past season. Like the memories that remain at Turner Field, I too will keep mine locked up until the time is right to tell my stories. Just as Turner Field left the Hank Aaron statue standing for the onlookers to take notice, I will leave all my ticket stubs, programs, game balls, rally towels, newspaper articles, autographs, and baseball cards for those around me to take notice and someday take an interest in the game. Are the days of playing backyard baseball over? Not if I have anything to do with it.