Jaybird's Jottings

Washington Ballparks

Today is the third and final part of Bill Wagner's Washington Ballparks.   These three are the more familiar RFK Stadium and Griffith Stadium, and the lesser known American League Park. 

As a concluding thought, I'll add that if you've been confused about the number of ballparks and their names, join the club.  I thought I knew a little about this subject.   But if that is the case, why is my copy of Green Cathedrals so worn out?

American League Park:  Trinidad, Florida Avenue and Bladensburg Road NE.

With Washington joining the upstart and rival American League in 1901 and the National League still holding the lease on National Park, the Senators club built a park on land leased from the Washington Brick Machine Company.  Again, as with most of the early parks in Washington, it was a small ballpark, this one with a single-deck, wooden grandstand and simple bleachers extending down the line to just past the infield.  Nothing fancy.  Nothing ornate.  Just functional.  It lasted until the end of the 1903 season, when a peace agreement between the two leagues allowed the Senators to move back to the National Park site, hauling much of American League Park's lumber with them for supplies.

National Park and Griffith Stadium.  Florida and 7th Street NE. 

This is the legendary field of Washington--so far.  Here it was that Washington had its first major league team that finished with a winning record (1912), all the rest from 1871 to 1911 having posted losing records.  Here it was also that the Senators won their only World Series in 1924 and competed for a second in 1933.  And it was here that the first true classic-era ballpark in Washington developed.  This took some time, however, for at first what became Griffith Stadium in 1920 was much like the rest of Washington's early ballparks, a single-decked wooden grandstand and open wooden bleachers, seating, all told, 10,000.  A fire in the spring of 1911 leveled that structure, and new, larger concrete and steel structure replaced it.  The new park boasted a double-decked grandstand and a large concrete open bleacher in left and a 30-foot wall in right.  Most of the changes developed over the next decade; a second deck, higher that that of the grandstand, was added to the stands beyond first and third.  On average it sat about 25,000, though 34,000 jammed in for the 1924 Series.  The Senators remained here until 1960, when the Griffiths moved them to Minnesota.  Washington wasn't out of the league long, however, receiving an expansion team for 1961.  Griffith was used for one more season, then sat empty until it was demolished in 1965 and the land purchased by Howard University Hospital.

Washington Sports Stadium or Robert F. Kennedy Stadium.  22nd, Independence Avenue, E Capitol Street and C Street NE.

While Washington's new club was playing the final year at Griffith, the city was constructing one of the early multi-purpose stadium ballparks.  Opened in 1962 and seating between 45 and 50,000, totally enclosed and of two-decks (though there was now lower deck in the outfield) topped with a distinctive wavy roof line, RFK hosted the Senators from 1961 to 1971 and the Nationals from 2004 to 2007.

And now the journey has reached Nationals Park.

Washington Ballparks (Part Two)

Here is Part Two of Bill Wagner's Washington Ballparks.  It covers the four parks built in the 1880s and 1890s.   This was a time before the permanency of the Senators/Nationals, when the poor play and flux of teams tested fan loyalty.     

Athletic Park: 9th, 10th, S and T Streets NW. 

Washington baseball shifted to a former circus lot in 1883 with the opening of Athletic Park, built to attract attention from the existing major leagues.  Photos and newspaper descriptions reveal a small and plain double-decked grandstand, 150 by 23 and 32 feet high, flanked by small bleachers and surrounded by a high, flag-topped board fence.  They also reveal the poor state of the playing surface, which was mostly dirt punctuated by tufts of grass.  Fans also complained that from their seats in the lower grandstand they couldn't see fly balls because the upper deck cut off their view.  This prompted an $8,000 adjustment before the 1884 season.  With the improvements, which included altering the grandstand, adding a bicycle track and a gong for opening the games, Washington gained admission to the American Association ( a major league from 1882-1891) for the 1884 season, only to see the club, called the Washingtons, fail half way through the season.  The park continued hosting local semi-pro and amateur games and bicycle races until being demolished in 1889.

Capitol Grounds:  New Jersey, 1st, B and C Streets NW. 

Part of the reason the AA Washingtons failed was the competition from the Washington Nationals of the short-lived major league, the Union Association of 1884.  Not only were the Nationals a better club, they had a more centralized location for their ballpark.  Although it had a small 3,000 seat, double-decked grandstand of 143 by 24 feet, with no upholstered seats or private boxes, and was jammed on a tiny lot, you couldn't beat the access or view, for immediately beyond the centerfield fence was the Capitol Building looming as a huge and inspiring backdrop.  Government officials were often seen watching games from the Capitol porch and in fact, some of the sod for the field came from the lawn of the Capitol grounds. The Union Association folded after one year, and the Nationals joined the minor Eastern League, winning the title and being invited to join the National League in 1886.  By that time, however, the park had lost most of leftfield to a rowhouse project, and the club had dismantled the grandstand for use at a new location.

Capitol Park:  North Capitol, Delaware, F and G Streets NE.

This is the site to which the Nationals (now called the Statesmen) carted their dismantled ballpark, a much larger lot leased from Colonel Enoch Totten of Fort Totten fame.  Reassembled and modified, it was not much of a ballpark, and the neighborhood in which it was located--called the Swampoodle--was in poor shape.  The thirdbase side of the grounds held the double-deck wooden grandstand and sat 2,500; the firstbase side had the long open bleacher that sat 3,500.  Fans in the grandstand complained that the protective screen was too fine to see through, prompting a change.  Beyond the center and leftfield fence ran the B and O Railroad line, and in right was a distant view of the Capitol dome.  A two-story brick clubhouse and ticket office stood on the corner of North Capitol and G.  The clubs here were terrible and following the 1889 season the National League expelled the Statesmen, forcing Washington baseball into the minor Atlantic Association for the 1890 season.  The site is now beneath the visitor's center of Union Station.

Association Park and National Park (also called Boundary Field): 7th and Florida NW.

In 1891 Washington rejoined the American Association and leased the site of what had been Baier's Seventh Street Park, a summertime resort spot next to Freedman's Hospital (now Howard University Hospital).  So down came hundreds of beautiful oak trees and up went long wooden bleachers and a single-decked, 1,200 seat grandstand with a center section 100 feet long, side sections of 50 feet each and a small tower on the center roof "so that," said the Washington Post, "exalted personages" may sit "above the common herd."  Overflow crowds of 6,500 were reported in what was obviously a small ballpark.  At first, Dr. Purvis of the Freedman's complained of the potential noise, but an agreement was reached for a 100-foot wide grove of trees to be left as a buffer and the noisier bleachers to be placed on the side away from the hospital.  Washington joined the National League the following year and made constant renovations and adjustments to their park until 1899 when the League dropped them along with Baltimore, Cleveland and Louisville.

Washington Ballparks

Nationals Park in the nation's capital is not only a new home for the game of baseball, it is also a place where history resides.   In addition to honoring past players and teams, the ballpark contains design homages to both RFK Stadium and Griffith Stadium.    That covers a lot of ground for D.C. playing fields, but still falls considerably short.

I am very pleased to publish an article that covers all the bases, if you will, on this topic.   Washington Ballparks is an outstanding piece researched and written by Bill Wagner.   I first met him in 2000 at Talking Baseball in Columbia, Maryland.    A native of Howard County, Maryland, Bill is a big fan of 19th Century baseball history.  He also writes record reviews for bluegrass music and teaches guitar and mandolin.

What follows is a starting lineup of nine ballparks, to be presented in three parts.   The first part covers the first two -- National Grounds and Olympic Grounds.  They were built in the northern part of the city, in what is now a residential area near DuPont Circle. 


Washington Ballparks by Bill Wagner

Part One

Washington baseball has had many homes on its long and circuitous route to Nationals Park.  In the last 140 years, the city's various major league teams have operated in nine ballparks on eight sites.  Nationals Park is the tenth ballpark and the ninth site.  The following, in order, is a brief description of each of the past ballparks and their locations and tenants.

National Grounds:  14th, 15th, S and T Streets NW.

This was the city's first enclosed ballpark, built in what was then a sparsely populated portion of the city in the summer of 1867 by the city's dominant amateur team, the National Base Ball Club.  In previous winters, the lot, surrounded on four sides by low dirt banks, had been flooded and used as an ice skating rink.  The National BBC continued this practice in subsequent winters, draining the grounds each spring.  They also surrounded the grounds with an 8-foot board fence and added a small covered wooden grandstand, a couple of refreshment stands and a two-story clubhouse, complete with balcony.  The press had a special stand as well, but wished "for a screen from the sun's rays."  7,000 saw the touring and undefeated Red Stocking BBC of Cincinnati beat the National here in 1869.  The grounds were also used for professional games when the National dropped in and out of the country's first major league, the National Association, between 1871 and 1875.  Non-major league pro and amateur games continued here until the mid 1880's.

Olympic Grounds:  16th, 17th, R and S Streets NW. 

The Olympic BBC was the chief rival of the National BBC between 1866 and 1872, and their ballparks stood just blocks apart.  Olympic Ground occupied a lot owned by banker and club stockholder George Riggs and included a 60 by 16 foot covered grandstand seating 3,000, a 24 by 18 foot clubhouse, a ten-foot high surrounding fence and a small restaurant.  A 44-foot flag flew from a 90-foot pole on the grounds.  Built in 1870 at a cost of $4,000, the park was also home to the city's first major league games, as the Olympic BBC was a charter member of the National Association in 1871.  Neither the Olympic Club nor its ballpark survived the 1872 season, and row houses soon appeared on the site.

Smithsonian Folklife Festival 2008

Roberta and I went to The Mall today to take in the Smithsonian Folklife Festival, the celebration of our nation's cultural heritage, as well as those of countries and peoples around the world.  

Held every year since 1967, this summer tradition is the brainchild of James Morris.   Dillon Ripley supported his idea, observing they needed to "take the instruments out of their cases and let them sing."  Their hope was to "make the National Mall more accessible and to make the Smithsonian's programs more exciting and engaging." 

We've been several times now and the thing that always hits you (besides the heat and humidity) is the diversity of the themes.   This year the three are NASA, Texas and the kingdom of Bhutan.   

I overheard someone wondering why NASA was there.  It does seem odd, but as one of their documents explains, NASA has "not only helped to broaden the horizons of American science and culture, but are also helping to shape the future by stirring the public imagination."

Eating is a great introduction to a culture, so we partook in some Bhutani cuisine.   Our experience with the food for the Festival has mostly been, well, sometimes it's been "generic authentic."   Having said that, the Nakey Tshoem was 'pert near fair.

Overall, we give this year's Festival high grades. NASA and Texas together seem to dilute the intended goal of diversity, but we hardly noticed.  Our biggest challenge was staying cool.  Between the humidity and the spicy food, we sweat like hogs...

Hyman Baras

On Tuesday I wrote about the Israel Baseball League, and its founder Larry Baras.  In an email exchange, Baras share the following with me about his father Hyman, who was a lifelong Giants fan.

Also be sure and check out his Dad's wonderful article on Baseball and the Bible (Moses at the Bat) at the IBL website or Smithsonian Magazine.

Larry Baras:

I'm not precisely sure how my father became a Giants fan, but I know he was a fan of the team his whole life.  Even during World War II, when he served in the Phillippines, he maintained a correspondence both with one of the players and with a reporter who covered the Giants.

In my house, the Giants were treated as if there was some sanctity attached to them.  For the first ten or fifteen years of my life, I would often listen to Giants games with my father via a green transistor radio that he had bought me that got games clearly even from as far away as Chicago, Cincinnati and St Louis.  When there were games that ended after I was asleep already but had a dramatic and fortuitous ending, he would come into my room, wake me up, and recreate the ending for me as if it were taking place live.

In the mid-60s (I think I am correct on the period), NBC started to broadcast the Game of the Week on Saturday afternoons.  Sometimes, the Giants would be on.  This presented a problem in our household because we were Sabbath observant and couldn't turn on the television.  For the first time, my father went out and bought a timer, connected it to the TV, set it for 2 pm on Saturday, and we would actually watch television on the Sabbath, albeit in strict conformance with the rules of the day.

When Champions Roar

The other day I wrote about how watching a sporting event can take us back to others we've seen and experienced.  The one that prompted my thoughts was the exciting conclusion to the fourth round of the U.S. Open at Torrey Pines.  Tiger Woods clutch putt at 18 to tie Mediate and force a playoff ignited his trademark fist pump celebration.

Thinking about Tiger's burst of joy made me realize that another fun aspect of sports is watching the champion or champions when they react in a big way to something great they've done.   In the NFL, wide receivers turned their end zone dances into an art form, and even had to be ordered to tone things down.   With plenty of room to run after scoring a goal, a soccer hero is a sight to behold.   In baseball, a dramatic walk-off homer produces a stylish helmet toss, the leap onto the plate and the jubulant mobbing of the player by his or her team. 

Golf is different.  It's an individual sport, and a more genteel game where players walk side by side with their opponents, sometimes complement their shots, always shake their hand at the end of the match, and in the case of an ace, might even high five them.

I'm not sure when celebrating went big time in golf, but something tells me Bobby Jones and Ben Hogan never showed much emotion.  The 60s seemed to usher in the era of outward displays on the links.  At the start of the decade, Arnie slung his visor high into the air after winning the U.S. Open at Cherry Hills with a record-setting final round of 65.  Ten years later at St. Andrews, the Golden Bear was so excited he had just won his first major after a three year drought, at the home of golf no less, he tossed his flat stick high in the air after sinking the winning putt.

At the 1990 U.S. Open at Medinah, Hale Irwin joyfully ran around the 18th green and slapped spectator hands after making a 45-foot putt to tie Mike Donald and force a playoff.  Two summers later at Pebble Beach, Tom Watson danced a little jig after his birdie chip out of the rough at the 17th hole moved him past Nicklaus and into the lead, one he kept for his only Open title.

Jerry Pate shocked everyone in 1982 when he dove into the greenside water at the 18th hole after he won The Players Championship.  And what fan who remembers playing with persimmon woods can forget Chi Chi Rodriguez stabbing at the hole with his signature putter-sword dance?

In the late 80s, some golf fans wondered what happened to the colorful players like Chi Chi and Lee Trevino who let it all hang out.  The game was getting boring it seemed.

Enter Eldrick Woods.  In 1996, at the U.S. Amateur at Pumpkin Ridge, Tiger was shooting for a third straight title.  At the 35th hole on the final day, he punctuated his comeback with a 30-foot putt to tie the match.   Woods punched the air and roared in celebration.

In the ensuing years, Tiger has put together so many highlight films of clutch putts and fist pumps, a Top Ten would not be easy to compile.  The one he put on at the 72nd hole at Torrey Pines would get a lot of votes because it was seen by a record audience on TV and the Internet. 

With his knee surgery finished and rehab now in progress, Tiger Woods is not going to be doing any celebrating any time soon.  All we can do is to hope he heals well and gets back out on the links.  When this incredible athlete walks on that first tee, we'll know he's back.  When he wins again, we'll know all is well.   When he roars big in a major win, we'll be reminded once again just how fun watching sports can be.

Holy Land Hardball

Imagine, if you will, what it would be like to start up a professional baseball league from scratch.   Now, throw in the difficult task of doing so in a country eight time zones away, a place that has never had such a league and whose people know very little about the game.

That's the enormous challenge Larry Baras presented to himself two years ago.  The Boston entrepreneur, reflecting on his faith, wanted to do something special for Israel.  A lover of baseball, he was inspired to put together the Israel Baseball League, which made its debut season last summer.

The story of this unlikely new chapter in baseball history is told in Holy Land Hardball, a documentary by Brett Rapkin and Erik Kesten.  We saw its second showing on Sunday at the AFI Theater in Silver Spring.  The film, one of 45 chosen out of 2,000 submissions, is being shown as part of the annual SilverDocs Film Festival. 

After the film was over, Kesten, Rapkin and a half dozen players answered questions.  The filmmaking pair said they were thankful to have complete access to the players and Baras and his team of executives that included Dan Duquette, former GM of the Red Sox.

The film produced moments of laughter from the audience of about 75, as well as some tears as the league finally came together on Opening Day.   Obstacles were many and, especially in the beginning, supporters few.

Giants fans will be interested to know that at the beginning of the film, when Baras was at his home, he talked about his father Hyman who was a Giants fan.   Baras pulled out a well-worn Giants SF hat out of a drawer, worn by his Dad and a momento of the times they shared.

The New York Giants always wanted a Jewish star player, or even a pretty good Izzy Goldstein.  If the Heavenly League would send such a player to Baras, he would be most grateful. 

The timing would be good too.  The Israel Baseball League starts its second season in a couple of weeks.

Update for Tiger's Tournament

Tiger Woods sent out the June newsletter today for information on his tournament, the AT&T National to be held next week at Congressional CC in Bethesda.  

The biggest news item is Tiger's Fist Pump Challenge.  It's a program he started earlier this year, designed to "help children celebrate their own accomplishments, as well as the success of their peers."

A special station will be set up at the 11th hole where children ages 13-18 can share their greatest achievements.

There's also information on parking.  A new satellite parking site will be located at the Annandale Branch of Northern Virginia Community College.   This was not available last year.

Patrons should make sure they read the info carefully, as not all of the parking sites are open each of the five days.

  

George Carlin, 1937-2008

Last week Tim Russert was suddenly gone.   Now George Carlin has left us too soon.  

 

He was my favorite comedian, a prolific performer, one of the best.    It was not only his words but his, “Isn’t that strange?” look on his face. 

 

Carlin was scheduled to receive the Mark Twain award at the Kennedy Center.   I wish I could have seen that.

 

So long to a lover of language and a comedic genius. 

 

Putting for Glory

Sports are a lot of fun for a variety of reasons.   We watch the current players and events and are sometimes taken back to our earlier days.

Watching the fourth and what we thought would be the final round of the U.S. Open yesterday, I thought about the golf games I used to play in our backyard.   This was when I was a young teenager, and before I had played on a course.   My two ball tourneys typically came down to Nicklaus, the star of his day, and a challenger.    Whoever made that final putt was the glorious winner.

In real life, golf tourneys sometimes have rather boring endings.  But once-in-a-while, like yesterday at Torrey Pines, they match our childhood, made up, fantastic finishes.   It does all come down to the final 10 or 15 footers.  

Roberta and I watched all 18 holes.  I kept trying to sneak away to get a few things done but there's something about the U.S. Open and the Masters, and also the British Open.   

Sporting events are best when there's ebb and flow.   In golf, the lead changes come at a slower pace, but for those who enjoy watching the game, it is exciting.   Yesterday, Tiger seemed to be asserting control, but then Mediate came back and took the lead.  Unlike a lot of other players in that position, he did not wilt.

At the end, the fiction writers left the room weeping once again.  It all came down to two mid-range birdie putts by Tiger and Westwood.   The Englishman, who had hung in there, missed.

As Tiger got ready, Roberta made the call. 

"He'll make it because he's Tiger Woods."

He did, a curler into the cup that tied Rocco and produced more bedlam in the bleachers.  

Today the anachronistic 18-hole playoff.   Maybe it will come down to the final putts again, just like our budding days as sports fans.