In 1985, Wild Bill Hagy, the most famous fan in America, got arrested at a Baltimore Orioles game for tossing an empty beer cooler onto the field to protest against the Orioles putting an end to Memorial Stadium's BYOB policy. Despite being the man who almost single-handedly made the Orioles hip again, with his vigorous cheerleading in the 1970s and 80s, Wild Bill was so wounded over the Orioles betrayal that he gave up on the O's. Wild Bill, and his kind, were rooted out of the game.
You'll excuse me if I'm late to the party on Wild Bill, but I was hardly born when Hagy's run came to its sad end. For my entire life in baseball, the rowdiness that attended MLB baseball has been something I've only heard about in stories, or read about on microfilm machines. And while I'm not going to sit here and pine away for yesteryear, when men were men, women were women, and minorities were inconvenient, I do wish to decry the sanitary, overly-surveilled culture that Major League Baseball now fosters in stadiums across the country.
The craggy old houses in which baseball clubs used to reside have one-by-one been replaced with luxury box-stuffed, over-staffed, amusement parks. Did you know that Dodger Stadium is the third-oldest stadium in baseball? It was built in 1962, the same year Jamie Moyer was born.
With the new stadiums have come a new clientele, as baseball discovered that it could make more money off a disengaged family of four than it could on two beer-swilling die-hard buddies. As such, MLB stadiums have little cheer, little character, and the characters have all but gone.
The worst stadium I've ever been in - and there are many other bad ones - is Coors Field in Denver. The Rockies employ an army of purple-polo clad hirelings who put their eyes on you at all times, to be sure you don't make a false step.
As you wait in line to pass through TSA-style security check-points upon entering Coors Field, you read the following rules, with Rockies staff promising to "actively intervene" to enforce.
"Obscene or indecent clothing will not detract from the Guest experience.
Guests will enjoy the baseball experience free from foul or abusive language or obscene gestures.
Guests will refrain from displays of affection not appropriate in a public, family setting.
Impaired or intoxicated Guests will be assisted in a prompt, respectful and safe manner.
Guests will show their ticket when requested and sit only in their ticketed seat.
The progress of the game will not be disrupted by Guests' actions or unauthorized persons on the playing field.
Smoking is permitted only in designated areas."
Presented in the creepy imperative tense, the Coors Field House Rules give staff the power to tell you how to dress (head cover is specifically cited on the Rockies website - sorry Muslim women), and how to act towards loved ones (gays, we've got our eyes on you). A hireling attends to every section in the stadium to prevent seat-jumping, even in empty upper-deck nose-bleeds. Fans are coralled at section entrances and not allowed to enter their seats until the end of an at-bat - an aggravating and increasingly common MLB stadium rule.
But fear not, America. Wild Bill Hagy may be dead and gone, but his spirit lives on, even if it has been pushed to the fringe. Even in the face the Rockies' over-the-top authoritarianism, I've managed to bring my own beer into Coors Field. I've snuck into seats behind home plate. At another big-league park, a buddy of mine once made it through the turnstiles with nine cans of beer. And on a couple of occassions, I've even caught a waft of smoke that definitely didn't come from a cigarette - a practice that was common at baseball games in the 70s.
Baseball is still America's game, and America is full of a lot of people outside of the tastefully affluent suburban families that Bus Selig seeks to fill his tax-payer funded amusement parks.
--
Follow on Ology: Bison Messink | MLB
Follow on Twitter: @BisonMessink | @OlogySports
Comments (1)