Baseball Place No. 10: Dodgertown

It’s hard to believe that there is no baseball being played in Dodgertown this spring. It is, hands down, the best spring training site I’ve ever been to.

Josh Pahigian thinks so, too, He named the Vero Beach complex stop No. 9 in his list of "101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out."

The Dodgers converted the former naval base into a spring training site in 1949, and abandoned it this year to share a site in Arizona with the White Sox. The Orioles were expected to move in this year, but ESPN reports that talks broke down and the team is looking to move to Fort Meyers.



That would be horrible, because Dodgertown is perfect. No place else allows fans to get so close to players. It’s almost like watching major leaguers play in your neighborhood park.

There were adventures each time I went to Dodgertown. But the best one is here.

I thought it would be more fun to show photos from some of the other adventures.

Dodger players not in the game would hang out on the press box roof to watch.

That's future Met Hideo Nomo leaning on the ladder.

After the game, players walk back to the clubhouse through the fans. Brett Butler told fans to walk back with him, then get in a line and he'd be happy to sign autographs.

Mike Piazza counting the days until he is a Met.

There wasn't too much to the bullpens.

Here's the Mets dugout on St. Patrick's Day, 1994.

Glenn Davis was getting a tryout.


That's Kevin McReynolds in the middle.

There were sometimes Brooklyn Dodgers visiting. Here's Ralph Branca wandering over to the Mets bench. Visiting son-in-law Bobby Valentine?

Keith Hernandez was throwing a little batting practice.

Mookie was coaching at the time.

Mets win! But Carlos Baerga and Rey Ordonez are deep in conversation.

My Grandmother used to bring me to games at Shea, I was finally able to return the favor, bringing her to Dodgertown. Here she is getting Tommy Lasorda's autograph.

I jinx minor-league Mets, too

Tim Teufel and Met-for-a-day Dan Murray guide the St. Lucie Mets this season.

OK, we know I’m a jinx to the major-league Mets. But apparently that now extends to any of our assorted minor-league versions as well.

I know this because I had the extreme pleasure of going to see the St. Lucie Mets play the Jupiter Hammerheads at Roger Dean Stadium on Saturday.

The game started on a good note because, well, I was with my Dad, and that makes any event special. But as we were walking to the ticket window a ball came bouncing off the stadium roof and landed in the grass about 30 feet in front of us.

Sweet! An official Florida State League ball, and without having to deal with someone yelling “Give it to a kid.” Kids are perfectly capable of catching their own balls, and note that this phrase is yelled only by people who, in fact, were not able to catch one.

It didn’t even dawn on me why someone would be hitting a foul ball out of the stadium when the game was a half-hour away from starting and too late for batting practice.

Snagging our tickets and free “Game Day Magazine” and magnetic schedules, we soon discovered that the game started an hour earlier than the schedule I saw last week.

But that was OK, because it was only the top of the second inning and the Mets were already up by a run.

Roger Dean Stadium is a spring training complex shared by the Cardinals and Marlins, and then used by the Hammerheads and Palm Beach Cardinals for the remainder of the summer. That means there is a game just about every day, which is pretty efficient use of your stadium tax dollars in my book.

And while tickets might be hard to snag in March, they are pretty readily available in April through August. We sat where we pleased, which was in the third row behind the Mets dugout near the on-deck circle.

I didn’t see any of our assorted ailing and rehabbing Mets, but the team is managed by Tim Teufel, who doesn’t look like he’s aged a day from when he earned his 1986 World Series ring.

Mike Hart, Joel Fuentes and Dan Murray are the coaches. Murray pitched one game for the Mets and 14 for the Royals in his brief major-league career, but, of course, is a favorite of mine.

A Mets catcher wearing No. 31! Is Mike Piazza back? Nope, it was Jason Jacobs wearing a number that should be retired throughout the Mets system.

I can’t say I recognized anyone on the St. Lucie roster, but nearly all were either Sand Gnats or Cyclones last season. The Hammerheads were trotting out rehabbing Jeremy Hermida.

Mets hurler Dillon Gee didn’t seem to be fooling anyone, but he was getting saved by some really tight defense.

He definitely didn’t fool Hammerhead Jacob Blackwood who launched an absolute bomb to left that landed on the roof on the building beyond the fence to tie the game.

Naturally, with me an attendance, the Mets forgot to score any more runs. The game remained tied until James Guerrero hit another homer – this one nowhere near spectacular – off Mets reliever Garry Bakker in the seventh.

The Mets only had one hit the entire time I was there, which I guess I should have expected, being a jinx and all.

But we were able to see some nice pitching and fantastic defense. Plus we left with our foul ball, magnet schedules and I even got a sponge eye-ball that was tossed into the crowd during the between-inning festivities.

Earlier in the day, my parents once again showed how they absolutely spoil me by taking a side adventure from our shopping trip in Vero Beach to get one last look at Dodgertown, which, of course, is the best spring training site in the universe.

Supposedly the Orioles are planning to move into Dodgertown next season, though it sure won't be the same.

Holman Stadium is probably the best place I'v ever watched a game. Look how close you are to the action. And note that the dugouts are just a bench in front of a chain link fence.

Mets in the Rear View Mirror

This shot from the Dallas Green era shows how close the fans get at Vero Beach.

Just because Robin effortlessly jumps into the Batmobile at the start of every episode doesn’t mean you can do it, too.

This is a lesson I once learned the hard way trying to leap into my sister’s brand new Mazda Miata convertible. It was an expensive mistake that is now family lore.

So it was a supreme act of sisterly love when Jennifer trusted me to drive her new car up to Vero Beach to see the Mets and the Dodgers in a spring training game in 1997.

Before the kids were in school, I would visit my folks in Florida each March, where they would spoil me wildly by sending me to spring training games for a week straight.


The Mets are about 40 minutes north of their home, and the Dodgers are not far from the Mets.

And Dodgertown should be a national shrine to all that is good in the game. Spring training, while still pretty laid back, is nevertheless becoming big business, with stadiums getting larger and tickets harder to come by.

But the Dodgers’ complex in Vero Beach is like the yard that time forgot. It’s almost like going to see major leaguers in a municipal park.

There are no dugouts to speak of, just a couple of benches. And a short chain-link fence is all that separates players from the fans.

I’ve attended several games at Dodgertown, but the 1997 visit stands out.

Getting there was a challenge. Jen’s new Civic had a standard transmission, and I had not used a stick shift in years. I knew driving on I-95 wouldn’t be a problem, but I think I stalled it at several traffic lights before I got there.

Buying just one ticket just before game time, I was able to get a seat right behind the Mets dugout. Sitting across the aisle was then team co-owner Fred Wilpon, He noticed that I was wearing the new white cap the team was unveiling that year – and quickly discarded – and was happy to autograph my Mets book.

The game was a glorious rout, with the Mets scoring 5 runs in the first inning on their way to a 20-7 victory.

The Mets that year were in transition. John Olerud and Edgardo Alfonzo were in place, but so were Carlos Baerga and Alex Ochoa.


It was also the spring of Howard Johnson’s comeback attempt. It soon became apparent that Hojo was done, so spring became sort of an extended curtain call for him.

Johnson had not done well after leaving the Mets 1993, playing for the Rockies and the Cubs before catching on as a minor league coach for the Devil Rays in 1996.

He hit just .129 with a homer that spring, but got warm ovations from Mets fans whenever he batted. It was a proper send-off, and he deserved one.

As the Mets continued to add runs, the stands thinned out a little and I crept all the way down to the row behind the Mets bench.

Howard Johnson got a lot of love, but few hits in his comeback attempt.

It’s always fun to hear what actually happens in the dugout, though I suspect the players on their best behavior at Vero because the fans are literally right behind them.

It was interesting that Rey Ordonez was paying practically no attention to the game, but was instead focused on a young Latina sitting in the first row. Rey was very interested in her, and she was definitely NOT interested in him. Rey-Rey actually had a decent game, hitting two doubles and stealing a base, proving that he could be good when he wanted to be. Maybe the Mets should have stationed hard-to-impress girls behind the dugout for all their games.

The excitement came after the game. Parking at Dodgertown is spread out on sandy and grassy fields around the complex, and it takes a little time to get out and back to the main roads.

The stop and go driving was testing my ability with the stick shift, especially after the stalling issues on the way there. I was waiting in line at a four-way stop sign when I noticed a mini-van had pulled up behind me – a mini-van full of Mets!

Apparently Vero is so close that players had the option of driving their own cars, and changing back into street clothes back at St. Lucie.

Edgardo Alfonzo celebrates after a home run.

I could see HoJo in the passenger seat, but couldn’t make out who was driving.

Talk about pressure! Stalling in front of Mets players would not be impressive, and I could feel my pulse racing as I gently eased up on the clutch and the gas, inching up to the stop sign.

I managed to pull it off without stalling, and even mustered a cool wave as the mini-van passed me on the main road that takes you back to I-95.