Friday I went to a ballgame. You remember the ballpark. “El Paso citizens approved $500 million in “Quality of Life” bonds, including the building of a state-of-the-art baseball stadium nestled in the heart of downtown to be completed for the 2014 season.” That’s what it says on the Minor League Baseball website. If it weren’t true, it wouldn’t be on the internet. The ballpark is nice. The field is deep green. The edges are crisp. The lights broad spectrum.
My space was in the Dog Pound, the open air second level of the three story brick building out past center field. The law firm Claire offices at had invited us to their end-of-the-season employee party.Much of the allure for me was the free food and drinks, or which there were copious amounts. The bar even featured Happy Camper, one of many IPA’s brewed in Santa Fe.The ballpark has a water feature, fountains spurting vertically around a oversized monolithic bat. Kids squealed and screamed in the crepuscular fringe of the stadium lights.Spectators lounged casually on the natural surface berm, the developers concession to fans seeking the cheapest seats.The benefit of a cracker box ballpark is the intimacy. The baseball experience is immediate. Even from the main concourse, the infield is close. It’s not quite like sitting ringside, but almost. I mean, you can’t feel the spray of the players’ sweat. That’s probably a good thing.
You should go to the ballpark. You’re paying for it, with bad streets and reduced city services. If we can’t afford tortillas, we should eat the cake.
