HIGHWAY 4, FLORIDA--The baseball season here is already over. The players have packed up and moved on, either to the big leagues and the adulation of millions, or the bushes and the contempt of waitresses at all-night diners on the bus trail from Butte to Lethbridge.
Spring training serves as more than just a proving ground for the young players trying to make the jump to the majors and more than an opportunity for the veterans to shake out all the accumulated off-season kinks.
It is a time for those of us who love baseball to revel in the simple joys of the game itself. Only the crankiest managers talk about winning down here. It is sport virtually without competition.
First of all, it is about the aged. Until your spring training initiation is hard to imagine a ballpark full of old men and old women So while the stands are less animated than they are up north, where beer-crazed maniacs roam shouting obscenities, the crowd possesses a rare feeling for the game's subtlty.
It is appreciation that comes only from 50 years of trips to the ballpark. Two octagenarians sitting in front of me compare Pete Rose, on the field running but not playing for the Expos, with George Sisler, who played for the St. Louis Browns in the '20 s. And I had always considered such '50 s luminaries as Stan Musial and Ted Williams the cream of the crop. I bowed to their 120 cumulative years of baseball knowledge.
Second it is about the South. Everybody, including the bare-chested old gentlemen who are my neighbors, is tan. In the rental car on the way to Vero Beach an announcer comes on the radio: "Bob Johnson's Ford is now a great deal for you With any truck purchased next week you get a free 306 Winchester rifle and a gun rack to put in your pickup."
Just what I always wanted
I saw three different parks in Florida The first stop was Dodgertown in Vero Beach home of Holmen Stadium where Los Angeles trains in the most lush and perfect surroundings possible. This is a real baseball community the Class A Vero Beach Dodgers play Holmen all summer and draw decent crowds despite the fact that Vero is the smallest city (town really) with its own professional baseball team
The Dodger uniforms are a beautiful clean while with that special blue trim. Dodger Blue. Holmen, more than any park I have ever seen, integrates the crowd with the game. The neatly painted facility is nestled in a natural knoll. The weather is perfect. Almost 7,000 fans are on hand. There are no real dugouts, just a few wooden benches on either side of the field. The players spend the game talking with the regulars in the good seats. No fence in the outfield, just a hill on which the people gather to tan and watch a game.
When Terry Whitfield triples into the gap and the ball rolls up the hill, the fans make no effort to interfere with Jim Wohlford as he scrambles up the bank and into the crowd in hot pursuit. They love the game too much to mar play by grabbing the ball for a souvenir.
The second park is not located in a beach-front community like beautiful Vero, but a bit inland, between Orlando and Tampa in Lakeland. I was there to see Florida Southern College play Rollins in an NCAA Division II Sunshine State Conference contest. Southern plays in Marchant Stadium, the heart of Tiger-town, so while I didn't get to see Detroit I got a good look at their spring training facilities.
And while Marchant can't compare with Holman, the place has a nice, subtle utility to it. Unlike wide-open Dodger-town, Marchant is like a miniature big-league stadium. And although it is stark, it is perfectly kept up and offers a great view from every seat.
The final stop, the next day, was in Winter Haven at Chain O'Lakes Park to see the Red Sox. The first warning sign was the concession selling pads for the seats. I ignored the vendors and took my general admission set. As I wiggled around on the uncomfortable and probably neolithic planking for the next nine innings, I desperately ached for the comfort of Holman and Marchant.
This was an old park, a vintage little wooden stadium in the midst of Winter Haven. Despite its pretty name, the town struck me only for the sprawling junkyard just past the practice field behind the grandstands. If this is part of the baseball past, then I'll pass.
Only after the last stop did I consider how each of the little parks spoke volumes about the organizations and the teams they housed for one precious spring month. Beautiful Dodger Stadium packed with great fans on a sunny afternoon--a great setting for a great team.
Tigertown, displaying the classic attributes of a nice park, well-kept and comfortable. Much like the Tigers, who will challenge and--if they can pass the Orioles--be the surprise of baseball '84.
Finally, Chain O'Lakes on a cloudy afternoon--wooden stands, faded grass, none of the trimness of the other two parks. The decay is not evident, but the park is living in the past, like its inhabitants, making a respectable showing and a nice case for how it used to be, but not competing successfully in the here and now.
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