FRISCO, Texas—I won’t say that the ballparks have begun blending together a bit at this point in the trip, but jumping up to Major League Baseball for a game after so many Minor League parks was a great shift in perspective.
Globe Life Field, like the other domed (retractable or not) ballparks I’ve seen, feels a bit like a shopping mall. That’s inevitable with indoor baseball, but it sure beats the alternative on a hotter-than-hades Texas afternoon of 102.
Since it would require a return trip to the Dallas area, I doubt I’ll ever make it to another Rangers game, but I had a great time, joining an old college journalist friend and her family. The Rangers, in their Sunday baby blues, played like garbage through the first two thirds of the game, before finally scoring on a sacrifice in the seventh. The day before, the Rangers won on a walk-off home run, and as the team continued to rally in the ninth, including a home run, that great baseball buzz of a comeback in progress rose and rose. If I had a rooting interest in that game, it would’ve been for the National League visitors, but there are few better things in life than feeling that rally buzz permeating a stadium. Ultimately, the Rangers got the tying run to the plate, before a groundout brought things to a close.
The 30,000+ fans, massive stadium and best-in-the-world talent (that might be a stretch considering neither team will be in the playoffs, but the presence of Juan Soto is enough to make the claim) aren’t all that distinguishes a Rangers game from the ones leading up to, and following, Sunday.
Having seen 13 minor league games so far (with three more to go), I’ve taken in plenty of places, sights, sounds and moments to make some comparisons between MLB and MiLB. And by comparisons, I mean describing two totally different things, an apples-and-oranges sort of situation. Minor League Baseball exists on an entirely different plane. It’s not meant to be the same thing. As far as the fan experience, it’s really impossible to describe in terms of better or worse. It’s too different.
The openness and accessibility of Minor League Baseball makes for a great experience. Buy a lawn ticket and sit in any unoccupied seat. I tend to move around, sitting in at least a few different sections, but spending the bulk of the game on my feet, walking around, leaning over the railing above the bullpen to get a close glimpse of the warm ups. If it’s possible to circumnavigate the field (and I immediately like ballpark less if it’s not possible), I’ll make a few circuits, just taking everything in.
There’s a charming seat-of-the-pants quality to a lot of the game-day operations and promotions. It’s amateur, and if anything fails, or doesn’t hit the mark in terms of crowd-pleasing distractions, so what? Thing is, most of what takes place off the field in minor league baseball works great, at least in terms of creating the lively sort of atmosphere that brings out most people. Sure, there are always old-timers keeping score, wearing jerseys of either the minor league club or its major league affiliate. Those codgers have been there since they put lights at stadiums.
But Minor League Baseball targets a far younger audience, the kind that tends to hardly look at the field and have a stupendous time anyway. It’s kids and college kids and people who look at a night at the ballpark as a special thing two or three times a year. The ballpark is special because it’s different. It’s more striking in Major League ballparks, but true as well in the minors: just in terms of the structures, most people very rarely set foot in places that are so big and open can hold so many people all at once.
It’s about the entertainment, the fun. Go to a movie one week, go to a ballgame the next. It’s part of the community sampler platter of activities and events. And minor league teams unfailingly include celebrations of local culture and quirks, from the team names to the mascots to the endless series of small-scale sponsors that are plastered on that outfield walls and every other available service.
Plenty of minor league teams do what they can to celebrate their own history. Some teams have local halls of fame, or photos of big leaguers who once played there (from legit stars like Salvador Perez to a host of oh yeah I remember him guys). In Oklahoma City, the ballpark honors players who lived in Oklahoma, a trio of Hall of Famers: Mickey Mantle, Johnny Bench and Warren Spahn.
But the game’s history shines so much brighter in Major League ballparks. That’s one of the things I love the most, paying my respects at ballpark statues of American heroes like Jackie Robinson, Tony Gwynn and Roberto Clemente. Most teams make some portion of the ballpark, either outside the walls or inside, into some sort of a shrine for their greats and their triumphs.
Major League Baseball games can certainly be about the occasional ballgame for the fun of it, but the real riches of a game are more for the serious fans. In Major League parks, I tend to sit, most often in the actual seat that I bought. I definitely end up watching more of the action pitch-by-pitch, getting into the flow of the game and picking up on the intricacies of matchups, strategy and, pretty much every game, I’m totally awed at some point or another by a display of talent that you can’t find anywhere else.
Really though, it takes a trip like this for those varied differences to really emerge. I can’t help but look for and pick up on these sorts of things in a year I’ll see 30+ ballgames across MLB, MiLB and NCAA. Which is why I’m writing about it. But I don’t get lost in that.
As I said before, baseball is about the summer night, the food and drinks, and friends and how it all comes together. Summer just shines a bit brighter once you’ve walked through the gates of a ballpark.
Finals: Springfield Cardinals 11, Northwest Arkansas Naturals 2
Attendance: 2,750
San Antonio Missions 11, Wichita Wind Surge 2
Attendance: 5,162
Round Rock Express 8, Oklahoma City Dodgers 3
Attendance: 7,395
Washington Nationals 6, Texas Rangers 4
Attendance: 34,220
Corpus Christi Hooks 4, Frisco RoughRiders 2
Attendance: 3,866
Listening: James McMurtry, “Choctaw Bingo.” Driving through from Oklahoma to Texas, I couldn’t resist playing what McMurtry describes as a song about the "north Texas/southern Oklahoma crystal methamphetamine industry.” I mistimed things a bit and it was actually on the second time through as I crossed over the Red River.
Reading: I thought I’d read a lot more on this trip (and frankly, it’s the newsletter that’s mostly cut into reading time). But during some down time in OKC and Arlington, I finally cracked open an actual paper book for the first time this year. (Don’t @ me - I’ve read through plenty on kindle and audio.) And I picked the sort of escapist thriller that’s perfect for vacation, Michael Connelly’s Blood Work.
Eating: I especially appreciate the “Welcome Catfish Nation” part on the sign out front of Catfish Sam’s in Arlington.