September 25, 2008
A Tale of Two Fields
By Jeff NeumanIt is possible, if the Mets’ bullpen continues to throw gasoline on rallies, that New York will say farewell to both of its baseball stadiums this week. One is historic and venerated, the other a bit ragged at the edges – not unlike the teams that play there.
The Yankees spent eighty-four years playing their home games in an edifice meant to be the modern Colosseum. Opposing pitchers were fed to the Yankee lineup before a crowd eager for blood and rarely disappointed. Like the imposing marble structures in Washington, D.C., Yankee Stadium was built to intimidate, and it did. Its startling verticality concentrated sound downward, focusing fan fervor on a visitor’s last unfrayed nerve.
Many have called it a cathedral, which raises a question: How often does a church tear down its own cathedral?
From the moment he took over as Yankee owner, George Steinbrenner looked upon his heirloom as a burden, not a treasure. A deal was already in place for the city to remodel the Stadium; Steinbrenner’s group oversaw renovations in which the vast Death Valley in left-center field was reduced to a merely unsightly bulge, and the grand arched frieze that ringed the roof interior was removed, left only as a reminder across the bleacher wall. Soon after the re-opening in 1976, Steinbrenner was calling for a whole new building, making frequent pronouncements about the inadequacy of the facility and the dangers of the neighborhood. (A most interesting marketing strategy!) He had his eye on Manhattan, or New Jersey – anywhere but the Bronx – despite the ever-growing crowds that filled the stands.
Even with a mayor, Rudy Giuliani, who bled pinstripes, the Yankees were unable to get the city to build them a new stadium. They decided to build one for themselves, on land allocated to one of the few promised parks actually created under the 1970s stadium renovation plan. (I am certain they undertook this out of civic pride and obligation, not for any possible benefits they may reap from adjustments to what they pay into baseball’s revenue-sharing fund.) They have relentlessly promoted Yankee Stadium’s final season, declaring its holy status while preparing to rain wrecking balls upon it. (Walter O’Malley sits somewhere and smacks his forehead, saying, “Why didn’t I think of that?!”)
And now it has hosted its final game. The Steinbrenners have their new playground, where they can charge government-bailout prices for premium seats and corporate boxes. I hope they understand the perils of getting their wish. Ghosts and echoes don’t travel well.
No national lamentations will accompany the last days of Shea Stadium. Few local ones, either; while Shea was the stadium of my youth, I will not be sad to see it go.
Shea Stadium opened in 1964 – coincidentally, the last year of the Yankees dynasty that ran from Ruth to DiMaggio to Mantle. Named for William Shea, the lawyer who was instrumental in bringing National League baseball back to New York, it represented the state of the art in ballpark design for an improbably brief period. No posts to block your view! Escalators instead of stairs! A screen –a tiny one – at the top of the scoreboard where they could project pictures of the players’ faces! Field-level sections that swiveled to reconfigure the stadium for football! Ah, the glories of a new age.
But a year later the Houston Astrodome opened, and the state of the art changed radically. The round cookie-cutter multiuse stadium with artificial turf was the new standard for modernity, and Shea was so last generation.
Of course, we’ve learned a lot about stadiums and ballparks since then. Round is not a good shape for baseball. Cantilever construction pulls the higher decks far away from the field; posts might block a piece of the view for a few seats, but they pull the higher levels tighter to the action. Fans waiting in line for concessions might want to see the game.
The Mets’ new ballpark is expected to feature the virtues of the old along with the comforts of the new. It will be an improvement on a place whose time came and went quickly, but which lingered for decades anyway. It was no cathedral, but then Mets fans are less prone to view their players as gods than Yankees fans are. (With good reason.)
Slide Show: Top Ten Shea Stadium Moments
