A new sports venue captivates us like a shiny jewel. The venue it replaces, meanwhile, can seem old as yesterday's newspaper. Considering the immediacy of communications in the year 2010, that expression could perhaps be changed to "old as today's newspaper."
But isn't it troubling when the old stadium can be remembered, in our lifetime, as something shiny-new?
I remember interviewing then-State Senator Roger Strand about the apparent necessity of having the Metrodome go up. At a certain point, an air of inevitability sets in. That's the way these things go. After all the cries of "let those rich bastards build it themselves," we grit our teeth and in the end we beam and gawk at the new facility.
I have long held the theory that new stadiums are like the need for periodic remodeling in the restaurant business. Perhaps it's subconscious on the part of restaurant customers, but they expect remodeling in the way any change of scenery refreshes. And so it goes in the sports world too.
But I don't consider myself too terribly old, and I still remember when the Metrodome was a fresh new "pride and joy." People touted it then as a necessity. It would buoy U of M football recruiting. Outstate fans would be heartened not having to worry about the elements postponing games.
We always knew there were some defects, like too few aisles, poor sight lines for baseball and inadequate luxury boxes. Actually I couldn't care less about that last one, but again the "experts" are telling us it's important.
Because the vacuum cleaner that is big league sports (as in vacuuming up money) stays on maximum setting, it seems. . .
And us knaves who buy general admission seats are supposed to care. The knaves end up joining the new stadium bandwagon because we know it's futile to stay skeptical, and it's a guilty pleasure to be excited about an opulent new stadium.
Not that anyone ever described the Metrodome as opulent. But for all its defects, Minnesotans have felt a persistent affection for it, a bit understated perhaps but always perceptible. We could always count on games being played and under predictable conditions. What a night-and-day difference from having an outdoor facility like the old Metropolitan Stadium in Bloomington.
I was preschool age when the old "Met" was built. Its purpose was to attract major league baseball and it succeeded. It wasn't built to last forever. Clark Griffith, son of original Twins owner Calvin, described the Met as a "bucket of rust" at the time it closed. The state's sports moguls knew the wheels could turn and we could get a new stadium built. And so it goes now with Zygi Wilf and the Vikings turning up the volume with hints that a new stadium is needed for pro football. Again there seems an air of inevitability.
From my layman's perspective, I have to wonder why separate stadiums are needed for the Gophers and Vikings. It's questionable whether the new Gophers facility is even living up to its billing. A front page article in the Star Tribune last fall was about a troubling lack of fan support from the U student body. And what I'm most curious about is whether football recruiting will fall back into a funk there due to the "negative recruiting" other institutions can do, based on our weather.
It seems the Gophers were lucky in their first season at TCF Stadium, not having any debacle days with sleet, gale force winds or the like. The Gophers were highly disappointing in their years at the Dome, contradicting the rosy speculation by then-coach Joe Salem about how moving indoors would promote greater on-field football success. You really have to be wary of propaganda when these new stadium drives pick up steam.
I remember Bert Blyleven, Twins TV analyst, getting disgusted during a game at the Metrodome when an infielder lost a pop fly in the roof, and saying "that's not baseball." He said this in the context of the new stadium debate. Mr. Blyleven and others in his (privileged) position would never have made a comment like this during the drive to build the Dome. But every few years the impulse builds to do something new and give fans that "change of scenery" as per the afore-mentioned norm in the restaurant business. Call it "new car smell" or some such thing.
I imagine that this spring our jaws will collectively drop when the new Twins Stadium is unveiled. Outdoors. Am I the only one who remembers that back in the days of the old Met, many members of the national media made offhand comments dreading the weather here? I remember a football broadcasting crew plugging the upcoming week's televised game, perhaps a playoff game (i.e. late in the season when it's definitely cold) and Johnny Unitas making such a remark with clear irritation in his voice. It seemed clear he just didn't want to come here, even if he could stay in the Skyway system.
Barbs of this type seemed to disappear completely when the Dome opened. I have long felt relieved over that. Now I'm starting to worry that the tenor of comments will reverberate again with revulsion at the cold or nasty weather that we've learned to live with. We may start feeling defensive again.
The new football stadium in Dallas has set the bar higher in that sport. A huge video screen there is reportedly just as big an attraction as the action on the field. I've read that opulent new stadiums are considered urgent to build in the NFL now, because it's harder to get fans to come to games. It's harder because the TV viewing experience at your home has gotten so much better. Many people would rather just stay at home. So now the push builds for a new, presumably opulent and state of the art facility for the Vikes. It would probably have to have a retractable roof. Its cost would be enormous.
And this push is building when the economy has storm clouds all around. Having three separate state of the art facilities for the Gophers, Twins and Vikings seems excessive, almost with a Sodom and Gomorrah feel about it.
People are suffering, losing their jobs and health care, and as U.S. Senator Chris Dodd pointed out Wednesday morning on the Joe Scarborough program (MSNBC), the very fabric of our society is showing stress. Fewer marriages, more out of wedlock births etc., he pointed out. So I look at the new Dallas stadium and almost wonder whether God has some sort of punishment in store for us.
I have micro (local) as well as macro examples of how the "new facility" push can manifest itself. I remember when Morris was positively brimming with pride over the new high school varsity gym unveiled in 1968. I was probably at the first varsity basketball game there. (No gender reference is needed because back then, basketball equated with "boys.")
I remember being at a few games when the Tigers played at the old, now abandoned gym-auditorium. It was necessary to leave those surroundings, but I wonder if we abandoned the 1968 gym prematurely. And it really has been abandoned, for serious varsity purposes, due to most of the bleachers being taken out.
When another new gym was built here in 1991, it was ballyhooed for a short time but then seemingly forgotten. The 1991 gym seems big enough for serious varsity purposes, but, at least when I made my rounds there, it had only token bleachers. Enough for gymnastics, perhaps, but not a prime spectator sport. Then I became truly befuddled when the community seemed convinced that a super new gymnasium complex was "necessary" a few years back. Thus we got our new "elementary school" which really was far more than an elementary school. Opulent? Yes. Excessive? I think so. This applies to the new gyms, new concert hall and new football field.
The go-go days of the '90s when the economy seemed so buoyant, was like an elixir causing all of us to cry "build new" and we got the RFC in part due to this. Now the RFC is on its knees, it seems, needing to scrape up more funds.
Big Cat Field seems to serve the University of Minnesota-Morris well, along with the Minnesota State High School League for its late-stage playoff games. But not the Morris Area Tigers. Attendance appears to have fallen off because there's a desolate atmosphere at night out there on the fringe of town, the elements can be felt in an uncomfortable way, and fans are more or less forced to sit on their fannies rather than mill around and socialize. The latter activity seemed paramount at the old Coombe Field. Now it's gone with the wind, along with cheerleading and maybe even band music. The Morris Area High pep band seems to make itself scarce for whatever reason.
Money? It usually comes down to that, just like with that clarion call we now hear - that drumbeat for a new Vikes palace at a time when our social fabric is showing unmistakable stress.
-by Brian Williams, former Morris Area High sports scribe - Morris Minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com
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