The Coop

Behold, Cooper Stadium. It's a Triple-A ballpark on the west side of town. It's not on a river, or in an entertainment district... which is why this is its final year. I understand the need to... well... no, I guess I don't understand the need for an upgrade. This is an amazing place to watch a baseball game, because the fans come to do just that... watch a baseball game.

I attended a few games when I was younger and remember darting between rows of seats for foul balls, and I have to smile when I see the kids of this generation running after those same foul balls. They've added some things that I would just as soon throw out, but it's never been up to me, and it's not like it gets in the way of the game. Tickets are $6 and you get a front row seat to some really good baseball. I can't tell you why I dig the minors more than the majors, but I do know that I'm envious of everyone associated with the Clippers. I want to be the center fielder, the manager, the bat boy, the announcer, the keeper of the brick dust, the usher, the umpire, the beat writer... any of them and all of them. Maybe it was because of the Sandlot. Those crazy kids made baseball in the dead of summer look like it was the greatest thing on earth. Either way, I need to infiltrate the ranks and see how I can put my expertise to use for the Clippers so that I might one day get to throw back roasted peanuts and a cold beer while on the job.

But it just wouldn't be the same with the new stadium. Twenty-somethings will start treating it like happy hour. Only going because it's new... not because Pete Orr is fast as heeeell in center field. But those kids will spend their money and in the end, that's what the owners are after.