A fabulous day, and a tremendous place…
Progressive Field, Cleveland
Bob and Dad on the Ballpark Tour in 2008


Dad and I are waiting outside the gates at Progressive Field. It’s a few minutes before they open for the night. We’re on a sidewalk, just beyond the opening in back of left field.

Behind the gate, a few security officers, attendants, and police officers are walking around. The teams have been taking batting practice, and one of the policemen has been picking up a few of the balls. Seems a bit strange, and he is ignoring those calling to him from the outside… to be specific, the adults calling for him to toss them a ball.

As the gates open, the officer walks directly over to a young girl and boy… no more than 7 or 8 years old… and hands each of them an official baseball. He looks right at them, smiles, and tells them to have a great time at the game.

It was a perfect moment… conducted very quietly. Several of us saw it, and I wonder if we all reacted the same.

Cleveland… you’re a great city. There is quite a sense of community here, and it’s a fantastic thing to be a part of. Oh yeah… the ballpark…

This is a simply massive field.

They won’t tell you that, of course. They’ll tell you about how it shares facilities with the home of the Cleveland Cavaliers, Quicken Loans Arena. The tour will point out the history of the Indians and the respect the club has for the fans. (They have retired the number 455 in honor of the consecutive string of sell outs that had been a major league record.)

But walking into this place… wow. It… is… gigantic.

Maybe it’s the angles. The way the field combines with openings in the corners of the outfield. Perhaps the lighter colors are involved. Kind of an obstacle illusion.

I doubt it.

I think it has something… something unwritten… something perhaps never intended by design… something to do with the community. Sturdy. Built to withstand the weather of the region and the hard times in general. Strong and at the same time welcoming.

The multiple levels just stack up and the place looks higher than many stadiums because of it. During our tour we saw back hallways and open food courts that looked huge.

And all of that said… note I said strong and at the same time welcoming. Don’t let a bit of size detract from the fact that this is a beautiful ballpark. The only trouble with it was that we saw it immediately after touring PNC Park in Pittsburgh. See… ok, hold on, story time…

During the game, these two parks were both amazing. Food options were perfect and readily available. The seats were awesome, and likely would have been no matter where we sat. The people couldn’t possibly have been nicer. Both of these parks are fantastic, and I would be proud to have my favorite team playing in either of them.

There’s just something slightly out of place here at Progressive Field. And I think I know what it is.

Have you heard the complaints about professional sporting events lately? They have hot dog cannons and cheerleaders and high-tech-wizardry-scoreboards that tell us when to clap and when to applaud and ask us to keep our eyes on the disappearing ball and decided what hat it’s under.

And in the desire to provide us with cutting edge, never stopping, pounding… pounding… pounding entertainment that is designed to appreciate society’s inability to pay attention to anything for more than five seconds, it seems like all of the activity during the game is losing a bit of the unique atmosphere.

Does that make sense?

Well… Progressive Field had all of that stuff. The thin video ring between upper and lower levels and the giant scoreboard. And it was very impressive and even had moments where it was pleasant and worked just about perfectly. But it almost overpowered the Cleveland Indians… the team.

I get the feeling that when the Indians are winning, this stadium is simply amazing. It’s probably filled with warmth and a true sense of community. People are slapping hands and the ground is shaking. And, if you read about PNC Park, it’s an atmosphere I wish that field could be surrounded by as well.

That police officer with the baseballs? That was perfect. That was a great start to a night of Cleveland baseball. But somewhere inside, with Cliff Lee pitching during his Cy Young year, I was missing a bit of Cleveland… in the shadow of a really big park.

If you have any comments or questions, please e-mail me at Bob@inmybackpack.com