A NIGHT AT THE BALLPARK

By Robert Palazzo

It was Hall of Fame weekend and my friend Scott and I decided to take in a Saturday evening minor league game. Our local Class A, New York Penn League Utica Blue Sox, affiliate of the Florida Marlins, were taking the field against the Hudson Valley Renegades. Scott has authored a book ‘The Pent-Ups’, a study of the history of minor league baseball in Utica, NY (several copies are in the HOF research library). So for a more detailed (and of course more complete) look at the subject, I recommend his book. (A search under ‘Utica Baseball’ will lead to his website). However, this is my article, so I’ll give you my version of the team’s history, along with observations from that evening’s game.

Utica baseball has a storied history, going back 122 years to its first professional team that took the field in 1878. Let’s fast forward to the 1940’s. The Utica Braves became an affiliate of the Philadelphia Phillies and changed their name to the Blue Sox. The NL team in Boston was called the Braves and the Phillies wanted to avoid confusion. The Blue Sox of the ‘40’s played in a ballpark in the northern part of the city called McConnell Field (itself named after the team owner and former pro player from Utica); not Stadium, or Arena or even Park — but Field, like the home of a baseball game was meant to be called.

The current version of the team plays at Murnane Field. The name of the renovated facility (which now includes a grandstand ) is Donovan Stadium, in honor of the State Senator who secured funding for the improvements. But although the official name is ‘Donovan Stadium at Murnane Field’, natives still call it simply Murnane Field. I like that. Located on the western side of the city, it is nestled in a neighborhood, with a bowling alley, pizza shop, (obligatory Mc Donalds), firehouse and hospital (in case a fan gets hit in the head with an errant throw or foul ball??) close by. Before the grandstand was built about 10 years ago, it was not uncommon to see neighboring fans sit on their 2nd story porches, watching the games from the convenience of their home, where the price of a good cold beer was simply a trip to the frig or a dip into thecooler.

The Blue Sox of the ‘40’s were a feisty bunch, later becoming the ‘Whiz Kids’ of the 1950 Championship NL Phillies. Players such as HOFer Richie Ashburn (he had come to Utica as a catcher but within a month his manager Eddie Sawyer had him in centerfield to utilize his speed), Stan Lopata, Granny Hamner and Putsey Caballero all took the field for both Utica and later, in the big leagues, Philadelphia. Sawyer, Ashburn’s manager with the Blue Sox in 1945 and 1947 and later for seven more years in Philly, has said "We had great ballclubs in a bad ballpark". And Ashburn has been quoted as saying he remembers the peculiar way the field was laid out, with center field to the west. "The sun would set over it. I never got a hit up there in the first five innings in 150 games, and I still hit .300". (He actually hit over .350)

This evening, four visitors to our city were seated next to me and Scott. Two brothers (in their late 60’s) and their two sons had driven twelve hours from Cincinnati to attend the HOF induction ceremonies. They were rural America personified. The two brothers both wore suspenders, which accentuated the slightly enlarged middle section each carried. Both walked with the aid of a walking stick and wore Reds hats. Although one sported a newly purchased hat, the other’s version appeared to go back to the days of Crosley Field, with the tattered, soiled look giving it much more character than the other hat. Between innings, the gentleman seated closer to me took the opportunity to strike up a conversation with me. He told me that over the three day weekend they would be making three trips to Cooperstown (Cooperstown is about 45 minutes from Utica and on HOF weekend the local hotels and motels pick up the overflow of those who can’t get rooms closer to the Hall. For years ML teams would stay overnight in Hotel Utica on their way to Cooperstown to play the annual HOF game). I told him about the Blue Sox of the ‘40’s and that the Red Roof Inn that they were staying in was built on the site of the former McConnell Field. He thought that was neat and told his brother, son and nephew about it.

Those teams of the past, even recent past (pro ball returned to Utica in 1977 after leaving in 1952), provided fans with the chance to see future major leaguers (ML affiliations include Phillies, Toronto Blue Jays and Florida Marlins). Players such as Larry Walker, Andy Ashby, Jesse Barfield, Jason Grimsley and Ray Durham all played for the Blue Sox. Also, Ken Brett, George’s brother and former major leaguer himself, is a former manager and Morganna, also known as the ‘Kissing Bandit’ has been a minority owner for years. Even author Roger Kahn, he of the classic book ‘The Boys of Summer’, was a previous owner and chronicled the team’s 1983 championship season under his ownership (and as an independent team not affiliated with a ML team) in his book Good Enough to Dream.

Today, packing the seats with fans is as important as fielding a competitive team (there are those who even believe that the two are related, can you imagine!?); and competition for the discretionary spending dollar is fierce. The current majority owners, Bob Fowler and his son Rob, are visible at every game. Bob, President of the local Chamber of Commerce, can be seen nightly at his spot at the corner of the beer concession, chatting with friends and greeting fans and an occasional local dignitary, such as our US Congressman, who also happens to be a minority owner. Rob handles the on field promotions and sometimes can be seen in and heard from the press box, behind the mike announcing the game.

This particular game featured several between inning promotions for fans, including musical chairs for four lucky young fans (the wrong kid was declared the winner!) and a sort of ‘miniature golf putting green’ challenge with six baseball bats serving as obstacles (no one gets the golf ball past the first bat!). Although Scott and I question their relevance to the sport of baseball, there is no doubt the fans enjoy these diversions from a sometimes slow moving game. Included in the 3400 fans at this evening’s game were many kids with their gloves, eating popcorn, peanuts and pizza (interestingly hot dogs don’t appear to be a big seller), sometimes rooting for the wrong team! And there was always a mad scramble to retrieve foul balls. The adults drank lots of the local brew, Saranac, along with another local brew, an alcoholic lemonade/malt liquor called Jed’s. But tonight this was a well behaved group of fans.

I recall watching a ‘Talking Baseball’ episode about five years ago in which Richie Ashburn was interviewed. He recalled with great fondness his playing days in Utica, NY. Also, in a press conference held shortly after he was inducted into the HOF in 1995, he remembered starting his career in Utica. "You can’t start in a better place than Utica, NY", he recalled. "I was 18. People were so wonderful to us. We were young kids, away from home, (he was a farm boy from Nebraska). I had an Italian family there, they took me in and took care of me". It was that small town feeling of Utica in the ‘40’s that eased his adjustment away from home. Tonight, I experienced some of that same small town feeling that Ashburn had become accustomed to.

After a game in which the home team pulled it out by scoring the winning run in their half of the 8th, the Fowlers treated everyone to a fireworks display behind the left field wall.

As the flood lights faded and the rocket show began, a moment from ‘The Natural’ came to mind. As white sparks from the blasts fell lightly to the ground, lighting up the whole playing field, the scene in which Roy Hobbs’ homer shattered those lights was eerily recreated. Players from both teams were standing outside their dugouts watching the display like the children they really still are. And as the fireworks ended and the appreciative applause ceased, one had a feeling of suddenly being in the cornfields of Iowa, half expecting to perhaps find when the lights finally came back on, that those players standing next to the dugouts had somehow been transformed into some of those former Blue Sox players from the 40’s, ‘70’s and ‘80’s. But when the lights did come back on, I would only have my vivid imagination and my own child-like excitement to rely on, if that transformation were to happen.




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