Baseball Place No. 52: Huntington Ave. Grounds; and 52A: Space Coast Stadium

Cy Young is almost a mythical figure in baseball.

No one is ever going to top his 511 wins. No one is ever going to come close.
There’s a statue of Young in Boston at the Huntington Avenue Grounds on the Northwestern University Campus.

The statue of Denton True Young sits on the spot where the mound located at the early home of the Boston Pilgrims, who became the Red Sox. It’s also the site of the first World Series game.

The statue was unveiled in 1993, and I haven’t been back to Boston since 1990. So it’s on my list of places to see when we make it back East.

So I must offer a statue of another mythical figure in baseball. That would be:

Alternative site No. 52A: Mighty Casey statue at Space Coast Stadium in Melbourne, Fla.

We made two trips the Space Coast back when it was created as the Marlins spring training site.

It’s a nice enough place. They tried hard. Too hard.

The site is a classic example of what my Dad calls an “If You Build it, They Will Come” development in Florida. You build a stadium in the middle of nowhere, and hope that housing, offices and retail follow.

This will sound familiar to Mets fans, especially ones who remember when Port St. Lucie was Port St. Lonesome.

The Marlins’ stadium was pretty lonely when we were there. It was a big, shining structure that you could see for miles because there was nothing surrounding it.

The team tried to embrace the space theme, since it’s a short distance from Cape Canaveral. They tried to get cute by dropping “port” after every feature. So you had “Foodport” and so on.

But you know me. I head for the team store first. And I saw a sign reading “Sportsport.”

I sat there and looked and looked and tried to figure this out. “Sport sport?” I walked around, saw the other signs and later realized they were trying to say “Sports port.”
There was teal. Lots of teal. I'm not sure if the Nats had untealed the stadium since taking over.

It just didn’t work when they had the words all smooshed together.

Then, at their space-themed stadium, the team had an old-fashioned hand-operated scoreboard. Because you know, nothing says space like pretend old things. You’d think three would be a state-of-the-art scoreboard in that spot.

Outside the stadium, there was a neat model of the space shuttle. Very cool. And it fits with the theme.

And the other huge decoration? That would be a massive statue of the Mighty Casey, of “Casey at the Bat” fame. Friends, what does the star of a treasured but ancient poem have to do with space or a brand new expansion baseball team named after a fish?

Nothing, of course. The Marlins tried to be all things to all people. Pick one theme, because retro and space do not play well together.

That said. We had a nice time heading to see the Mets play the Fish on a St. Patrick’s day, at least until a Florida storm washed out the game.

We came back in 1999 for a the final spring game of the year, where the Marlins played their top farm team.

The Marlins scooted to Jupiter to share s spring site with the Cardinals after the whole Marlins-Expos franchise swap.

These days it’s the spring site for the Washington Nationals, but also the home of the Florida State League’s Brevard County Manatees, one of the best team name and logos ever.

And last I heard, Mighty Casey still stands, sadly out of place with his surroundings.

Mets win -- twice! A new streak, without the shame.

I'm putting Josh Pahigian's "101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out" on hold for a day as I check out some glorious places Josh doesn't list -- the Mets' first two spring training games.

Considering I went from 1991 to last July without seeing the Mets win, I'm pretty excited about the three-game winning streak I'm now riding after seeing our team smackdown the Orioles in Fort Lauderdale then the Marlins in St. Lucie.

Dad was even luckier than I was. He snagged a foul ball at a Marlins' practice game, then won the grand prize in a Mets spin-the-wheel contest, landing us a signed Freddie Garcia jersey.

I'll have a full spring report, but right now I'd dead tired. Here are some photos to tide you over.


Fort Lauderdale Stadium is ancient, and showing the signs of Yankee Taint. This is likely the last year a team will train there.

Ryan Church relaxing between turns in the cage.

Mets win, 9-3!

Oliver Perez warms up in the bullpen.

Mets win, again, 9-0.

Dad wins, too! He's holding the jersey that until recently belonged to Freddy Garcia.

Is Shea a tough place to play?

Looks like a nice place to me.

The congressional elections aren’t to far off, so that means we get subjected to all kinds of polls. Apparently Sports Illustrated decided to do some polling of its own, asking 415 players what is the toughest stadium to play as a visiting player.

Some of places make sense, some don’t. And of course we have to deal with the typical SI Yankee bias. Here’s the list and some choice comments.

10) Shea Stadium: We knew this was coming. Every couple of days Yankee-lovin’ Sports Illustrated remembers that it hasn’t trashed the Mets and runs something goofy like this: "Did John Rocker have a vote in this survey? The constant roar from airplanes heading in and out of LaGuardia can be a distraction, as can the baseball-crazed fans who have been waiting 20 years for another World Series winner."

First of all, can we stop with the Rocker references? We are so over that. He’s been suspended, he apologized, he started sucking rocks in the majors, minors and independent leagues. Let it go.

As for the rest, sure the airplanes are loud and so are the fans. You got a problem with that?

9) Dolphins Stadium: The Marlins are so desperate to get their own yard that they’ve apparently started paying players to say bad things about they one they rent now. It’s not that bad. There are gripes about the way they’re treated by the guy who owns the stadium, but those shouldn’t affect the players. I’ve actually been in the dugout and clubhouse here, and it seemed kind of nice.

8) U.S. Cellular Field: No doubt about that. Shirtless, tattooed and somewhat drunk South Siders have been known to run out of the stands and attack first-base coaches. But the biggest fear is that some poor fan will get dizzy in the highest reaches of the park’s legendary steep upper deck -- you practically need seatbelts -- tumble out, pick up speed falling past the three -- yes, three! -- levels of luxury boxes and land right on top of a poor rightfielder.

7) AT&T Park: I think confusion is the issue here. They’ve changed the name of the place so many times -- this is the third one in six years -- that they must have to constantly replace the directional signs. And given the speed DOT crews seem to work, they’re probably two name changes behind, making it hard for bus drivers to get to the yard. That’s not counting the confusion in the stands, where they actually cheer Barry Bonds.

6) Metrodome: Can’t argue with this one. Loud, ugly and charmless -- and those are just the Twins uniforms. They stadium’s no treat, either.

5) McAfee Coliseum: It’s a football stadium, and a bad one at that. But it so favors football that I think they actually schedule Raiders games right in the middle of Athletics games. Sure, there’s so much downtime in a football game that it doesn’t affect the A’s much. The problem is that players have a hard time getting back into the dugout because they have to pass through all the glad-handers and hangers-on that fill the sidelines of any given NFL game. Seriously, who are all those people? You don’t see baseball filling the foul areas with assorted friends of the owners, cheerleaders and whomever could pretend to be in the media and wrangle a credential. And I think the head coach can wear a headset without requiring an employee whose sole job is to keep track of the wire.

4) Citizens Bank Park: No freaking kidding. I think the Mets games on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday tell us all we need to know about this horror show. Not that it stopped Jose Reyes. Last year, at this very park, I was openly mocked for voting for Jose on my All-Star ballot. Guess he showed them!

3) Wrigley Field: It must be tough to play there because their players occasionally resort to cheating, corked bats and all. And it’s tough one the fans. I thought one died right in front of me. True story.

2) Fenway: SI’s explanation: "The Red Sox have the best home record (38-18) in the majors this season and have won at least 50 games at home in each of the last three years." Could this be because the team has good players?

1) Yankee Stadium: Here’s what SI says: Among the 415 current major league players surveyed, 83 (21.2 percent) voted Yankee Stadium as the most difficult place to play as a visiting player. The numbers back them up: Since Joe Torre took over as manager in 1996 through 2005, the Yankees are 513-292 (.805) at home in the Bronx, where the fans are close to the field and into the action."

Just Yankee fans being Yankee fans.

Where to start? Forget for a second the notion that when you spend nearly twice as much as everyone else in the league, you’d darn well better be winning a lot of games. That says nothing about the stadium itself.

But I won’t deny that it’s tough for a visiting player.

First, you have to walk through all kinds of vermin getting to the field. Oh, the rats are nasty, too, but I was talking about the fans.

What’s this "close to the action" stuff? That space between home plate and the backstop is so huge it has three Electoral votes. (All of them cast for Jeter in every election, of course) The seats in left are separated from the field by the walkway to The Shine To Over-rated Yankees Of The Past. There’s even enough room there for a walkway and the line of retired numbers. And it’s a long walk because the Skanks retire so many. You know they’re just waiting for Tanyon Sturtze to retire so they can hand ole No. 56 out there with the Scooter and Reggie.

I suppose the players are closer to Yankee fans than anybody in their right mind would want to be without disinfectant. But they’re no closer than in any other yard.

By the way, Alex Rodriguez says the place is the hardest place for home players, too. It’s not his fault, he swears.

Unexpected Glories of October

rhetorical question: n. A question to which no answer is expected, or which the answer is already known.

One day in late October 1997, my father called me with such a question: If he could get tickets to the World Series, would I fly down to Florida?

Naturally, if he could get tickets to the World Series, I would crawl to Florida, if necessary.

The Marlins have been one of my second tier teams since my parents surprised me with a ticket to their historic debut game in 1993. Things got exciting when owner H. Wayne Huizenga opened his checkbook for some key players, though I disagree with the notion that he purchased the pennant like the Yankees try to do each season.

He certainly added some key studs, like pitchers Kevin Brown and Al Leiter, and outfielder Moises Alou. But other players — Jeff Conine, Charles Johnson, Rob Nen — either came through the system or had been with the team a while. And Cuban refugee Livan Hernandez was the toast of the town.

So it was with great excitement that I watched the Fish advance through the playoffs and make it to the World Series in 1997, playing the Cleveland Indians.

And I was practically doing cartwheels when he called to say he was able to get us tickets. Attending any Series game is a dream come true. And to see a Series game with a team I like, well, that's just over the top.

Dad amazingly snagged tickets for Game 6, which made things a little tricky. Of course I was rooting for the Fish to win, but they had to lose a couple games purely for my selfish reasons.

And sure enough, the team traded victories with the Indians for the first four games, and took Game Five in Ohio, setting up a potential clincher with me in the stands.

Dad spoils me, and so does my wife, who let me run off on this baseball adventure while she stayed home with the six-month-old and five-year-old kids, not an easy task.

Attending a World Series game is a once-in-a-lifetime event, so you have to do some planning, right down to the outfit. I packed my Marlins vest jersey with teal undershirt, though I was torn over wearing the original teal cap from the inaugural year, or the black cap with the official World Series patch that the team would be wearing on the field. Such things are important.

We got to the stadium before the gates opened, as planned, so we could hunt for programs and other essential souvenirs and get them back to the car so we wouldn’t have to lug them around in the backpack the whole game. This decision turned out to be a good one, as you’ll soon see.

I was a little excited to go to a World Series game.

And the atmosphere outside Joe Robbie Stadium was absolutely crackling. There were salsa bands, tailgating — a teal party wherever you looked. There was a smattering of Indians fans. I saw guys with their faces painted like Chief Wahoo. I’m not a fan of the Wahoo logo, but you have to salute freaks in facepaint who obviously paid attention in art class.

Some Tribe fans made the trip to Miami.

The weather in South Florida was 80 degrees and perfect — a sharp contrast to the games in Cleveland, which were complete with snow flurries and 15-degree temperatures.

We went inside as soon as the gates opened, and twisted up the circular ramp to our level, where we encountered the first moral dilemma of the day.

Draped over a trash can was a large vinyl banner with the Marlins and Coke logos and the words "Congratulations Marlins." It’s the kind of advertising thing you see hanging around stadiums. But this one wasn’t hanging up, and there did not appear to be any employees around who were in the act of hanging such things up.

Our questions: Was this garbage? If we took it, would it be stealing?

We were debating this when a guy walked up and said, "If you’re not taking that, I am."

Our response? "In the backpack!" We quickly rolled it up and got it to fit -- barely. Sometimes -- but not often -- it’s better to act first and fast and worry about the messy moral questions later.

And the banner looks very nice decorating my baseball room, along with the newspaper rack cards, subway signs and other baseball-related advertising that posed similar moral dilemmas over the years.

This decision we can blame on an empty stomach, so we chased down some arepas, the local treat that tastes even better at a ballgame — especially a World Series game.

Our seats were awesome, in the second row by the Marlins bullpen out in rightfield. Settling in, it seemed both like every other ballgame I’ve attended and yet something entirely different. It looked the same, but there was a collective electricity moving through the stands — especially since it was among the largest World Series crowds ever. The Marlins opened up upper deck football seats that are normally covered and unsold, boosting attendance to 67,000.

I thought things were breaking in the Fish’s favor. Ace Kevin Brown would battle an undistinguished young pitcher, Chad Ogea, a 26-year-old who posted an 8-9 record and unimpressive 4.99 ERA during the season.
And this is why baseball is a glorious game. October has a way of making heroes out of the players who aren’t supposed to be.

Indians third-baseman Matt Williams started the second inning with a single, and Jim Thome and Marquis Grissom walked, loading bases. Up stepped pitcher Ogea.

Keep in mind that as an American League pitcher, Ogea didn’t get to bat much, only in some interleague games that season. Easy prey for a stud like Brown. You would think.

Ogea fouled off four pitches, and he shouldn’t have been able to make contact. Then he lined a single past Jeff Conine, scoring Thome.

It was his first ever Major League hit, and became first Indians pitcher to drive in a run since Steve Dunning homered on Sept. 1972, a year before the AL introduced the DH.

And he wasn’t done. In the fifth, Ogea smacked a double between Conine and the bag, and later scored on Ramirez's fly for a 4-0 lead. He was the first pitcher with two hits and two RBI in a series game since Tiger -- and future ex-Met — Mickey Lolich in 1968.

That sucked the air out of the crowd; it wasn’t the kind of World Series history fans were hoping to see. But history nonetheless. I was still a very happy camper.

Some players have years of success and others get fleeting moments of glory. Game Six was Ogea’s career moment. He finshed with a 37-35 career record with a 4.88 ERA over six years.

I flew back to Michigan the next day, excited and exhausted, and got home in time to hang my banner and catch Game Seven on the television. The folks at the stadium that night — were they rooting for the team to lose my game? — got to see the Fish celebrate after beating the Indians in a 10-inning thriller.

The scoreboard told the tale of Game Six -- and the first five games, too.

Forget Sports Illustrated. Here's the REAL Ballpark Ranking

Shea is so heavenly that St. Peter rips your tickets as you enter.

It’s no secret that Sports Illustrated is a football rag. I think baseball appears on the cover of Popular Mechanics more than it does of SI. And its stable of Yankee-apologist hacks like Tom Verducci ensures that the Mets will get bashed in the rare times they get mentioned at all.

So I wasn’t shocked that the magazine ranked that slice of God’s Country called Shea Stadium as the very worst ballpark in the Major Leagues.

My man Metstradamus posted this nonsense on his awesome site, knowing that all our goats would be gotten. So I mobilized the Thruth Squad to set the record straight with real rankings.

First a couple things to get out of the way. The SI piece ranks ballparks on stuff like food selection, neighborhoods, and the number of toilets. All of that is nonsense.

Hey, if you are going to a stadium for a fine dining, then you’re going to the wrong place. My criteria for ballpark food: Fill my stomach until I can hit the White Castle drive-through on the way home. Or, in the case of a Lemon Chill, occupy my kids when they get a little restless. Those wooden scrapers, er, spoons, keep them busy.

As for neighborhoods, if I want to hang out in some trendy sports bar, I can do it without going to the stadium first. Restrooms? I might care a little more if I was in the other gender, but it’s not like guys require a lot here. I plan to spend as little time in them as possible.

So here is how the stadiums should have been ranked, at least the ones that I have visited.

Elegant and classy Shea Stadium, with tasteful giant neon ballplayers.

1) Shea Stadium: The Mets play here. That negates any kind of shortcoming. Really, what else could you want? The skyline atop the scoreboard is a fine tribute to New York. The apple in the cap is a far better decoration for centerfield than some plaques with dead Yankees on them. And it’s so convenient to have that nice airport across the street, allowing visiting teams to quickly depart the fair city with their tails between their legs. I pretty much go to a ballpark to see a game, and if that game includes the Mets, then everything else doesn’t really matter.

Details like giant baseball cards make PNC a fun place to see a bad team.

2) PNC Park: I was ready to pledge allegiance to this fine yard until I had to pay about $5 for a Diet Coke. Other than that, this is a magnificent ballpark. The view is awesome, our upper deck seats were not ridiculously high and the Bucs do a fine job of celebrating their tradition and history.

3) Fenway Park: Fenway is Wrigley without the idiots. You're never going to get closer to the players. The Green Monster is a cool quirk, the Citgo sign is a classic and the rest of the place was like a museum until they started putting seats atop the wall.

Busch looked cool even before they added real grass.

4) Busch Stadium:I'm a sucker for landmarks, and the view of the Arch from the first base side is just perfect. Add baseball's second-best fans and you have a multi-purpose bowl that still seems like a great night at the ballpark. Sadly, you have less than a month to see Busch, at least this version of it.
I didn't see a game, but they let me take photos.

5) Dodger Stadium: I’ve never seen a game here, but the team allowed me to hit a gift shop and walk around the upper deck one morning when I was attending a conference in Los Angeles. The place was beautiful. I was amazed that at a point I could see the ocean, the Hollywood sign and the mountains. It was also cool that it’s built right into a mountain. I parked and walked right into the upper deck.

Will inspecting Miller Park while it was still under construction.

6) Miller Park: I took in a game at Miller last year, and was greeted by the commissioner of baseball. True story. We had a fun time and the brats with secret sauce actually made me care about stadium food. The roof opened and closed during the game, which was neat, and a massive gift shop was well-stocked with retor cap-and-glovev logo merchandise. And check out the Little League field on the site of old County Stadium.

Coors right before the first exhibition game with real players.

7) Coors Field: One of the first of the retro stadiums, Coors is bricks and steel, pine trees in the bullpens and a line of purple seats at the mile-high mark. And it made Mike Hampton pay for leaving the Mets in 2001 -- though the schools in Denver are really good. Sure, Mike.

We got to see the All-Star Game Home Run Derby at the Jake.

8) Jacobs Field: They passed on the bricks to come up with a modern ballpark that has some of the touches of the retro yards, just not as nice looking from the outside. But this is still a fine ballpark. Execpt, of course, for whatever spell it cast on Roberto Alomar to make him suck as soon as he left it's diamond.
Pay homge to my friend Kelly Gruber at the dome.

9) SkyDome: I'm not calling it the Rogers Centre or whatever the heck they tacked on the sign outside. People whine about this place, but I think it's fun. Not saying I'd want to see every game there, but it's like baseball in a pinball machine. Embrace the Canadian aspects, despite the new owners' attempts to Americanize the place. And the "OK, Blue Jays" song is pretty cool. And it's hard to not keep looking up at the CN Tower.

10) Kauffman Stadium: I went to college in Missouri, but never had the chance to see this heralded yard. But in 1995 I had two hours to kill before a flight out of Kansas City made it a mission to see the stadium. The folks inside were kind enough to open a gift shop and let we wander around taking photos.

Buy your cheese steak sandwich at Pat's, then go to the game.
11) Citizens Bank Park: From outside this must be the most confusing stadium I've ever seen. It looks like a big pile of stuff in the middle of the parking lot. Inside's a different story, a fine yard. And the giant, light-up Liberty Bell that bongs after each home run is a classic.

"Hey kids, I caught a home run ball today!" "Cool! let's see it!" "Ah, some drunks told me to throw it back on the field."
12) Wrigley Field: Wrigley in romantic theory is much better than Wrigley in reality. In theory, it’s got bleachers full of knowledgeable baseball diehards who live for the ups and downs — mostly downs — of their beloved Cubbies. In reality, the bleachers are packed with drunk posers who think throwing home run balls back on the field is a good idea. In theory, residents of the cute houses across the street climb on their roofs so they can peek the action. In reality, the rooftops are owned by corporations that rent them out for mega-bucks. In theory, fans spill out of the stadium to toss back an Old Style with fellow Cubbie devotees at a local watering hole. In reality, the watering holes are tourist traps. I know. I was one. I know, I know...ivy...Harry..the El. It’s just not real. It’s like people going there are following a script instead of stuff just happening.


My view of Charlie Hough throwing the first pitch in Marlins history -- to current Met Jose Offerman.

13: Dolphins Stadium: People wail on this place like it's some hell-pit, and I just don't get it. It's a lot better than some of the other multi-purpose stadiums, and there is some local latin flavor that the team is starting to recognize. Former owner Wayne Huizenga -- who owns the stadium -- seems to go out of his way to make the Marlins seem like second-class citizens in their own home, but I still enjoy going here.

14) Minute Maid Park: I've only been in the gift shop and walked around the building, but I could see they had the train that rides atop the left field wall decorated for Christmas. It looked like a pretty cool place, and I like the hill in centerfield. The statues of Bigs and Bags were OK. As a bonus treat, it was the scene of Roger "Bat-tosser" Clemens' complete All-Star game meltdown.

I drove my rental car right under the Big A!
15) Angels Stadium: This time team let me in the gift shop but would not let me inside to take photos. Disney did wonders by making this a baseball-only stadium again, though I have no idea what's going on with the rocks in centerfield. I like the giant caps and Hollywood-style hands in cement near the entrance. And the former "Big A" scoreboard is a landmark.

This yard should always be called Comiskey Park.
16) U.S. Cellular Field: I don’t care if they lop off a couple rows and add a roof, the upper deck is just plain disasterous. It’s as steep as everyone says — you’re afraid to lean forward — and three, count ‘em, three levels of luxury boxes make it seem so high that the observation deck of the Sears Tower is anticlimactic. The lower level is a different story, and the Sox have enough side attractions and promotions to add to the fun. The team gouges on the parking, knowing that no sane person would park in the projects and walk to the yard. I still have no clue why they painted everything black, but the exploding scoreboard is a treat.

17) The Metrodome: We already know that security at the dome is lax. (Read about it here) It's plastic and ugly, but still a step up from where the Twins used to play.

A tiger choking on a baseball is not the image you want to project.

18) Comerica Park: I took my kids to see a game there in the stadium's first year. I asked for three tickets, and the seller said all he had were upper deck seats for $50. "Three upper deck seats are $50? You gotta be kidding me!" Then the guys said, "No, they're $50 EACH." That made me kind of bitter about Comerica. They've lowered the prices, but I still only go once a year. And if you need a Ferris wheel to keep fans amused, your team must really suck.

19 - 29) Bank One Ballpark, Great American Ballpark, Petco Field, Safeco Field, SBC Park, Newtork Associates Coliseum, Tropicana Dome, Ameriquest Field, Turner Stadium, RFK Stadium, Camden yards: I have not been to these stadiums, though I got a hard hat tour of Camden while it was under construction. So it would be unfair to rank them. Except for one thing -- I can assure you they are better than this dump:

30) Yankee Stadium: Otherwise known as “The House of Shame.” A vile hell hole that serves as a tribute to self-glorification with all the beauty and splendor of the South Bronx. The fact that Steinbrenner periodically threatens to move the team to New Jersey — New Jersey! — tells you all you need to know about this landfill. And no, Derek Freaking Jeter is not some stud because he can loft what would be a shallow fly in any other park into that short porch in left. And is there anything stupider that that "roll call" cheer? It makes "the wave" look intelligent. Watch the ballgame and leave the players alone, darn it! Fans, this is where SI got it so wrong.

Phew, I feel better now.

Roberto Hernandez, the Fish and a Happy Pre-Teen

Getting a ball and proving your Dad wrong...priceless!

I’ve snagged two balls in 34 years of attending Major League Baseball games.

My son Andrew equaled his old man’s lifetime total during one Florida Marlins game last year.

You need to know that my Dad spoils me wildly, and we were at Joe Robbie-Pro Player-Dolphins-Whatever This Week’s Name Is Stadium as the gates opened for a July 26, 2004 game against the Phils.

I don’t know about you guys, but I have set routines for going to a game. I’m incapable of going right to my seat and plopping down until the last out. I have to walk the entire concourse to see every concession booth -- on the off chance that one has different stuff – and scout out the assorted food options before settling in for batting practice.

My Dad lets me get away with this.

We had already inspected everything along the first base side and were working our way around rightfield looking for glorious arepea stands when Andrew spotted Roberto Hernandez – he was a Phillie then – and other pitchers shagging flies and tossing some balls into the stands.

Andrew, who had just turned 12, immediately asked to go down where the other kids were. In one of those all-knowing father voices, I said “You will never get a ball. Keep walking with us.”

But Dad said he wouldn’t mind a break if Andrew wanted to give it a shot.

“That man’s name is Roberto Hernandez. Remember to say ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you.’ You have 5 minutes,” I said, though he was already halfway down the aisle by the time I finished. Dad and I grabbed a seat in the last row of the section.

I swear that within two minutes of Andrew reaching the first row, a ball was hit over Hernandez’s head and stopped near the base of the wall, right where Andrew was standing.

I sat there in disbelief as Hernandez picked up the ball, looked up and placed it in Andrew’s outstretched hand.

Andrew walked back up the aisle with his trophy and said “See, told ya.”

There is nothing that makes a pre-teen happier than being able to tell his father “Told ya.”

We found the booth selling the areapas, a Latin-American treat made from two slices of sweet cornbread grilled with cheese. It's the Marlins' version of selling a knish. Then we and settled in to our seats for the game, which featured A.J. Burnett going up against Kevin Millwood. Dad landed primo seats, 12 rows behind the Marlins’ dugout.

Now, I haven’t brought my glove to a game since I was a kid because I can’t remember the last time a foul ball came to my section, much less my row. Plus it’s hard to keep score wearing a glove. And besides, I can catch anything that comes close, right?

But about midway through the game an absolute screamer goes right past me. I thought about reaching out for it for a millisecond, and it’s probably a good thing I didn’t. It struck an empty seat about five away from me. A slow-moving elderly man had been sitting in that spot until the inning before, and I can only imagine what would have happened to him had he still been there.

So we missed out on a second ball. Or so we thought.

Later in the game, an inning ended with a throw to Marlins first-baseman Hee Seop Choi, who tossed it into the stands on his way to the dugout. It was caught by a guy in the row behind us who tapped Andrew on the shoulder and said, “Here you go, bud!”

And just like that, the 12-year-old had his second Major League ball, just as many as his Dad. Someday, I'll hear the end of this.

A local hobby shop had one of those stands that hold a card and a ball, so I found Topps Total cards of Choi and Hernandez, now proudly displayed with the balls in Andrew’s room.

His conquests were exciting to be sure, but I’m still partial to that magical, misty night in Tiger Stadium when Frank Thomas cemented by fandom.

In other words...

Roberto Hernandez, of course, is now one of the best relievers in the Mets bullpen. So he likely won't ever appear on Mets Walkoffs list of the worst Mets relievers, an awesome post. As an added bonus, it inspired Metstradmaus to reveal how he once taught Donne Wall and Lenny Harris lessons they won't soon forget!

Mayhem in Miami -- and the Marlins, too

If you think Michael Jackson got one over on the legal system, let me tell you about a trial I once covered.

This case involved exotic locales, courtroom chaos — and baseball, too. Pretty much a trifecta of glory for this reporter.

The Flint Community Schools thought they were getting rid of a problem when they allowed a music teacher to quietly resign after being accused of molesting students in 1987. This saved the district from getting involved in messy teacher tenure hearings and airing dirty laundry.

Unfortunately, the teacher — I’ll avoid using names here — moved to Miami, got a job in a school there and allegedly picked up right where he left off.

This time, the girls involved thought they would be better off going to the police instead of their school administrators.The teacher was charged with multiple felonies, with a 1997 trial in Dade County.

Normally the Flint Journal would not send a reporter on the road to cover such a thing. But there were a number of Flint school people on the witness list, and I could save the paper money by crashing with my folks, who live about two hours north.

It was pretty nasty stuff. The guy married one of his former students. And several young women took the stand, each with a similar story. They either didn’t have a father, or had one that was too busy to spend too much time home. The teacher would start to build up trust with the girl and her family, become sort of a surrogate father and before too long the molestation would start.

Seemed like a pretty iron-clad case to these untrained eyes. The teacher was allegedly having and affair with not only a student, but her mother, too. Prosecutors broke out a tape of a telephone conversation between the teacher and one of the girls, pledging his love and announcing his plans to marry her. One of the Flint witnesses grew up to become a prosecutor and sounded pretty credible to me.

The weekend break came as things were wrapping up. I always try to work a baseball adventure into every road trip — and the first week in February is one of the few times of the year where there is no baseball in Florida.

Luckily, the Florida Marlins came through in the clutch with their annual winter fanfest.The Fish are an enigma because they can be awesome to their fans and horrible, too. But this fanfest was pretty sweet.

The White Sox held these functions in hotel ballrooms, and the Tigers in the Joe Louis Arena. But cold weather isn’t an issue in Miami, so the Marlins were able to conduct the festivities at Joe Robbie Stadium.

There were booths lining the outside concourses with all sorts of freebies, activities and discounted goodies. I picked up a complete set of programs from the team’s first season and a bat autographed by former manager Rene Lachemann. The team offered tours of the clubhouse and dugouts and even let fans see Jeff Conine's All-Star Game trophy . Former player Warren Cromartie broadcasting a radio show and greeting fans.

The areapas alone made the trip worthwhile. Areapas are a Cuban treat made from two slices of sweet cornbread grilled with cheese. Apparently they’re considered borderline carnival food, like elephant ears, which is why they were sold from a cart at a fanfest. But I’m hooked.

It was cool to be in Miami, which seems like a different country because virtually everyone speaks Spanish. I thought this was a good time to try my limited abilities. The guy selling hot dogs from the cart in outside the courthouse did not seem impressed.

One of the Miami Herald reporters took me out to lunch in a real Cuban restaurant in Little Havana. After the incident with the hot dog vender, I let Herald reporter order for me.

Back to the trial.

The sides presented their closing arguments, with the prosecutors playing the tape again. The public defender representing the teacher noted that the victims had filed a civil suit. He repeated two phrases over and over: "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," and "Show me the money!"

Now, I haven’t covered a lot of trials. And I know these guys didn’t have a lot to work with. But I’m thinking there are few successful legal defenses built upon quotes from "Jerry Maguire" and pithy phrases.

At first I wondered if the jury would even have to leave the box to break out with the verdict. I studied the six people — apparently that’s the number for some Florida trials — during the proceedings. There was one stern-looking woman who barely moved as she watched intently. One guy seemed odd, wearing shorts and carrying his lunch in a metal lunch box that he kept in his lap the entire time. And there was one person who I’m pretty sure slept through the whole thing.

No one could figure out what was taking so long, but I used the down time to get to know some people in the court. I’d been speaking to the lawyers on both sides on the phone for a couple weeks, so it was nice to let them connect my voice and face. They were all from New York, so we had a lot to talk about. The judge even called me into her chambers to chat and asked me to send her some of the Michigan newspapers. "I can’t imagine what they’re talking about in there," she said of the jury. "There isn’t really a lot to decide."

Finally, late in the morning of the second day, the jury came back. The court was packed with family members of the victims and some of the teacher’s family and friends. It was very quiet, and very tense. Then the clerk read the verdict: "Not guilty."

First there was stunned silence, like people couldn’t believe what was happening. Then all heck broke out.

Shrieks, screams, sobs. One of the fathers yelled "Burn in hell!" A mother yelled to one of the public defenders — who was seven months pregnant — that she hoped the lawyer’s child gets a teacher like the accused. Several of the girls collapsed in tears. The judge was hammering her gavel like Marky Ramone beats his snare drum.

I knew it would be a while before the victims families could compose themselves enough to talk to me, so I walked up to the defense table for a quote."You have to give me a couple minutes, Dave," the lead defender said. "We have statement here for a guilty verdict. We didn’t even write one for not guilty."

Glories of Opening Day

Tom Seaver delivering on an Opening Day for the Mets.

My buddy Will insists that Opening Day of the baseball season should be a national holiday.

Of course he’s absolutely right.

It’s a national day of optimism, when all teams start with a clean slate and have a chance at the pennant. It means spring is here, or here in Michigan it means at least spring has the potential to arrive within the month. Maybe.

I’ve been blessed to attend a number of Opening Day games in my life. Here are some of the favorites:

April 5, 1975 -- Mets 2, Phillies 1: My Grandmother lived with us when I was growing up, and she was a big baseball fan. We’d go to a couple games a year, and this year we made it to Opening Day — my first one. I had just turned 11 two days before and was in full boyhood baseball hero mode.

Tom Seaver, my hero, was pitching. We sat on the third-base side because Seaver’s a right-hander, and his back would be to the first-base side when he pitched and we wanted the best view.

That was a big winter for the Mets, having traded fan favorite Tug McGraw to the Phillies and acquired all-or-nothing slugger Dave Kingman from the Giants and Joe Torre in a trade from the Cardinals.

My grandmother completely spoiled me and we were at the game as the gates opened. She bought me a yearbook and program and as we headed to our seats I saw McGraw by the dugout being interviewed by the former Met Ron Swoboda, who was a sportscaster for one of the television stations.

I remember running down to the front row to watch. It was my first time being that close to a major league player in uniform. I remembered from Swoboda’s 1973 baseball card — I could recite all the little cartoons on the backs in those years — that his nickname was "Rocky." I mustered up the courage to say "Hi Rocky," and Swoboda looked up and waved. Contact with a baseball player! Yes! it didn’t get much better.

The game was awesome, a pitcher’s duel between Seaver and Steve Carlton, each throwing a complete game. Kingman hit his first homer as a Met and Torre drove in the winning run in the bottom of the ninth.

To show how much times have changed, Baseball-almanac.com -- a great site -- lists the attendance that day at just 18,527. And that’s before the rise of the Yankees and the Mets were still the toast of the Big Apple.

April 5, 1983 -- Mets 2, Phillies 0: Tom Seaver’s return the Mets! I was in college by now and some of my friends at the college newspaper also were Mets fans. To celebrate my birthday we all decided to go see the Mets and Seaver. It was one of the first times driving in to the city and going to a game without parental assistance.

Being college kids, we didn’t think about details like getting tickets ahead of time and we were stunned to find the game was sold out. After walking around the stadium a couple times in shock, we walked up to the subway platform outside the right-centerfield seats where you could get a decent view of the action.

My friends humored me and we stayed up there for most of the game. Again it was Seaver against Steve Carlton. Neither team scored through six, and Doug Sisk came in to pitch the final three innings to get the win.

It was an emotional day for a Mets fan, and especially a Seaver fan. He’d been run out of New York in 1977 by the previous regime, and the new owners sought to heal those wounds by bringing Seaver back. It was a year-long lovefest, and I remember seeing the "Welcome Home Tom" banner from the subway platform.

Seaver's 1984 Topps card has always been one of my favorites because the photo was taken on that Opening Day -- you can tell by the bunting in the background.

April 5, 1993 -- Marlins 6, Dodgers 3: My parents also spoil me. They had moved to Florida a couple years earlier, and we were all excited that a major league team was coming to Miami.

I had come oh-so-close to getting tickets to the team’s first-ever game over the phone. I somehow got through right as they went on sale, and was put on hold. I figured I could keep typing — I was working — if I switched to the new headsets we got a couple days before. I heard a "click" and the dialtone — and my colleagues heard something unpleasant coming from my cubicle. Dooh! It was 40 minutes before I could get through again. The first game was sold out, but I could buy four upper deck seats to the second game, which I snapped up.

A couple days later my mother called and said my Dad found a way to get a ticket for Opening Day. It was expensive, but it could be my birthday present. I told her that was really kind, but that was expensive and not to worry about it. I called her back about a half hour later and said "Go for it!" She knew I would.
The Marlins take the field for the first time.

What a fantastic day! Brilliant Florida sunshine for an out-and-out celebration of baseball. Charlie Hough was the Marlins’ starter, throwing against Orel Hershisher.

Wearing my cool teal cap, I was in prime souvenir mode, buying official first-day programs and a way-cool foam rubber Marlins hat.

Virtually every movement on the field was a franchise "first" and brought cheers. Scott Pose, who beat out Chuckie Carr for the starting centerfield job in spring training, was the first batter, Bret Barberie for the first hit and Benito Santiago scored the first run.

I’ve been privileged to attend a number of historic baseball games, and the first day for the "Fish" is up there at the top of the list

April 13, 1993 -- Tigers 20, Athletics 4: Two Opening Days in one year! The Tigers started on the road that year, and I got home from Florida in time to get to Tiger Stadium for my second Opening Day there. The Tigers were pretty awful through the 1990s, and apparently well into the 2000s. So to see this offensive outburst against a decent A’s team brought some hope and cheer to D-Town.

I had a streak of Tiger Opening Days going for a while. I was able to link some to work, attending in 1995 to interview fans about the first game back after the player’s strike and again in 1999, the last Opening Day at Tiger Stadium.

My mission for both games was to find people from the Flint area for the story. It’s actually not that tough to pick out Flintites in a crowd of 55,000. A lot of them wear UAW jackets that list the location of their local, and a lot of high school kids wear their school jackets. The upper deck in Tiger stadium wasn’t that far from the lower seats, and I learned that I could go to the upper deck railing, look down and see the backs of a lot of fans below then run down and ask them questions for the story.

It also didn’t hurt to have some plants among the spectators. I knew our friends Tom and Glennie would be attending the openers, and I’d get their seat locations ahead of time, guaranteeing that I’d have at least some local fans quoted in the story.

I haven’t been to a major league opening game since then, but we’ve attended most of the openers for the West Michigan Whitecaps, the Tigers’ Midwest League team here in Grand Rapids. The Caps are hoisting this championship banner at this week’s opener and we’ll be there!

And go to Will’s Web site -- Baseballtruth.com -- and sign his petition to get Opening Day named a national holiday.