Baseball Place No. 33: Billy Goat Tavern; and Baseball Place No. 33A: New Comiskey Park

If only they'd have let the goat in the first time.

If Billy Sianis had been a Yankee fan, he would not have had any problems bringing his pet goat to the ballgame.

I’ve been to Yankee games, I’ve seen those fans. I’d rather sit next to a goat than most of the Jeter-loving hooligans that fill the place.

Alas, Sianis’s operated the Billy Goat Tavern is in Chicago, not the Bronx, and the Cubs turned him away as he tried to bring his goat to the 1945 World Series.

As the legend goes, Sianis cursed the Cubs, saying the team would never win a World Series.

Sianis was obviously a gifted promoter, because now we have to endure talk about the curse every time the Cubs are in the playoffs. And he’s opened several taverns around the city, including tourist places like Navy Pier.

Josh Pahigian takes us to the original Billy Goat Tavern, 430 North Michigan Ave., as spot No. 33 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

I’ve been to Chicago lots of times, but, like the Batcolumn, I’ve never seen a Billy Goat Tavern.

But I have seen a team that appeared to be cursed, and figured out how to break it. That would be:

Alternative Baseball Place No. 33A: New Comiskey Park

Old Comiskey was being torn down during the first season of the new ballpark.

We checked out the New Comiskey several times in 1991, the year the park opened. Will and I scored credentials for a story and went on the field before a game with the Orioles.

And I returned later with my wife to experience it from the fan’s perspective.

Frank Thomas was hanging out with Glenn Davis before the game.

Ozzie Guillen in the cage.

That's Cal Ripken Jr. talking to Ben McDonald.

I’ve come to this conclusion: There are two New Comiskeys.

If you have a seat in the lower stands, it’s a fine ballpark. A wonderful ballpark. You seem close to the action. There are plenty of concession stands along a nice, wide concourse. And there was a nice Hall of Fame.

However, if your seats are in the upper deck, you are not a happy camper.

First, there are three layers of skyboxes pushing the upper deck into the heavens.

Then, the seating is so steep that I’ve been afraid to lean forward, lest I tumble head over heels down through the section, over the rails, past three levels of people in skyboxes not watching the game then landing on the heads of some poor Sox fans who were enjoying the action from a reasonable height.

It’s just not a comfortable thing.

If you can rest your feet on the head of the person in front of you, the rows are too steep.

The Sox had bad timing. Their yard was among the first of the new wave of stadiums, and came after Camden Yards revolutionized the way ballparks are designed.

It’s been argued that Comiskey is actually the last of the old wave rather than the first of the new, fan-friendly era.

The Sox were aware of this, because the team started five years of renovations in 2001, even lopping off the last six rows of the upper deck, among other changes to give the place more of a retro feel.

Some of those changes were paid for by selling the name of the park to U.S. Cellular Field, which I recognize only on occasion.

I like New Comiskey, as long as we can sit in the lower stands. We’ve been there a bunch of times, including “Elvis Night,” which would have made former owner Bill Veeck proud.
The BaseballTruth.com Executive Board: Me, Will, Scott and Jim.

The park was the location for an historical event, in addition to the 2005 World Series, of course. The first BaseballTruth.com Executive Game occurred in 2000, and we’ve gathered every year since.

The Sox approved of our official ExGame I shirts.

I’m sure the Sox have a plaque commemorating the event somewhere, but it must be in the upper deck because I haven’t found it.

Baseball Place No. 32: Growden Memorial Park; and Alternative Place No. 32A: Michael Jordan in Fort Lauderdale

One of the coolest caps in my collection is from the Alaska Goldpanners, who count one George Thomas Seaver among their alumni.

It was pretty obscure, snagged before the days of the Internet. I read about the team, tracked down the address, sent a letter and the Goldpanners replied with a mail-order souvenir list and all kinds of neat stuff.

The league attracts college players, and the list of Goldpanners who went on the majors include include Dave Winfield and Barry Bonds.

Josh Pahigian takes us to Growden Memorial Park, where the Goldpanners play, for spot No. 32 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

A college-aged Tom Seaver in his second-coolest uniform.

The team also is famous for its Midnight Sun Game. Fairbanks is just south of the Artic Circle, and on the summer solstice the Goldpanners host a game that starts at 10:30 p.m. and ends after midnight.

And the wildest part? The game is played without lights.

Baseball outdoors at midnight played in broad daylight is pretty unusual. But in 1994 I witnessed something almost as strange. How about the best basketball player ever trying to play baseball?

Alternative place No. 32A: Michael Jordan playing at Fort Lauderdale Stadium

I was disappointed with the photos I took that night. The lighting was rough and the crowd was huge. Jordan didn't exactly play to the fans, either.

Jordan, obviously, was an amazing basketball player. We’ll probably never really know what possessed him to leave the NBA and focus on playing for the Chicago White Sox.

He was invited to spring training in 1994 and naturally attracted crowds wherever he went.

The Sox came across the Florida to play the Yankees in Fort Lauderdale, and Dad and I were able to snag tickets.

It was one of the most unusual spring training games I’ve ever seen. The Yankees, icky as they are, had Don Mattingly, Wade Boggs and Bernie Williams – a future Hall-of-Famer and two stars. Some guy named Jeter was in camp wearing No. 70, according to my program.

But the vast majority of the people in attendance were there to see the guy who had never played in a major league game.

Jordan was cheered as he stretched, as he shagged flies and as he kind of weakly hit balls during batting practice.

To the credit of the Sox and Jordan, the fans got their money's worth. He batted leadoff, and spent seven innings in the field. Nothing spectacular happened at the plate, where he struck out looking once, and hit grounders to second in the other three at-bats.

I was as excited to see Frank Thomas, who had a typical Frank game with two walks, two hits and a strikeout.

The Yankees won 12-7, but people left happy.



Fort Lauderdale Stadium, built in 1962, looked pretty old then. In fact, it looked nicer when we saw the Mets play the Orioles there last month. Must have been the Yankee taint.

Baseball Place No. 31: Monument Park, Legends Field; and, Alternative spot No. 31A) Comerica Park statues

Why, Josh? Why?

I understand that 101 places is a lot, and some places might not be as glorious as others.

And while I personally might not want to go there, I can understand why you would include Monument Park in the Bronx.

But I’m calling foul on place No. 31: Monument Park at Legends Field in Tampa.

From what I can tell, these aren’t even monuments. They’re circles with the retired numbers with a description of the player, the same that fills the space in front of the bullpens in the Bronx.

The Tampa version isn’t even in the stadium, but on some grass near the parking lot.

Josh. My friend. Plywood tributes to over-rated Yankees might be an adequate lawn art and squirrel obstacles on the buffer between the Toyotas and trash cans at some cheesy spring training site.

But they do not qualify as one of the “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

I haven’t been there. And I don’t plan to go there. But I do know of another major league team with a flawed tribute to its greats and near-greats, but without the ick-factor that clings to anything Yankee.

Alternative Place No. 31A: Comerica Park statues

Willie Horton and other Tigers greats are depicted in action.

I give the Tigers points for the attempt.

Moving from their historic yard to the bland Comerica Park in 2000, the team wanted to salute some of their all-time greats. And to be sure, when the conversation about the best player of all time includes someone who wore your uniform, you get to make a big deal about it.

That’s why I want the Mets to do something more with Willie Mays, but I digress.

The Tigers created statues of six players -- Ty Cobb, Charlie Gehringer, Hank Greenberg, Willie Horton, Al Kaline and Hal Newhouser – stretching between left field to center.

Old habits are hard to break. Ty Cobb spiked my friend Steve.

There are some people who grumble about Horton, but he’s been active in the Detroit community for years and is pretty much beloved. Outsiders don’t get it, but they don’t have to.

So the statues are a nice idea. But they goofed.

I suspect the idea was to place them close to the field, so the greats of old overlook the Tigers of today.

The statues face the field, and there isn’t much space between the pedestals and the railing that separates the seats from the walkway.

Prince Hal was cool. But I don't want to pose next to his butt.

Quick: What’s the one thing people do with statues at a ballpark? Take photos of them!

And more often than not, they pose with the statues.

But the way the Tigers have the statues arranged, there’s no way to get a nice photo from the front. You’d have to go down into the seats, and they the angle is off.

So then you have a lot of people taking photos of the backs or sides of the statues. It just doesn’t work. They should move them back about 10 feet.

There's no good way to get a shot of the front of this otherwise great Kaline statue.

Then, the team decided to go one step further, and paint the players’ names and numbers on the brick wall below the statues.

Now, what’s the usual way you see names and numbers? Name on top, number on the bottom, like on the jerseys.

Except the Tigers decided to have the number on top, and the name on the bottom. The big problem is that Ty Cobb didn’t have a number, so you have this big blank space between the top of the wall and the name.

I can only guess, but I suspect the team put the numbers on there first, realized it looked odd to have the blank space under Cobb, then added the names.
If the names were on top, Cobb not having a number wouldn't look so awkward.

The Tigers need to know that people would be able to identify their iconic players from a distance without throwing their names up there on the wall.

The Mets, for example, are throwing mere silhouettes of famous players above the gates at Citi Field, and we were able to identify all the players before the things were even installed.

So, Josh gets a swing and a miss for thinking Yankee plywood is important, and the Tigers get a check-swing strike for bad planning.

Baseball Place No. 30: Negro League fields; Alernative place No. 30A: Negro League salutes at Tiger Stadium and Comerica Park

There aren’t many tangible links to the Negro Leagues remaining.

Josh Pahigian takes us to Pittsburgh for some traces of history as spot No. 30 in his “101 Baseball Places to Visit Before You Strike Out.”

But it sounds like anybody making the trip would be disappointed.

There just isn’t much left of the places where Josh Gibson, Cool Papa Bell and Oscar Charleston called home.

West Field in Munhall is dilapidated, but is the most intact, with bleachers, dugouts and locker rooms remaining.

There’s a plaque commemorating Gibson where Ammon Field once stood, and another marking the Crawfords is in front of the Crawford Grill, which has stood since the 1920s and was popular with black musicians and ballplayers.

I’ve never been to a Negro League game, and never sought out any of these plaques. But I have seen people play baseball in Negro League uniforms.

That brings us to:

Alternate place No. 30A: Salutes to Negro Leagues at Tiger Stadium and Comerica Park.

Tigers closer Mike Henneman

I love it when the Tigers don the uniforms of the Detroit Stars. I’ve three games where the team saluted the Negro Leagues, twice against the Royals wearing Kansas City Monarchs uniforms, and once against the Reds reborn as the Cincinnati Buckeyes.
Travis Fryman and Sparky Anderson show off their Detroit Stars uniforms.

The game on July 8, 1995 stands out, and it’s a little embarrassing. Here’s a tale from the archives.

We were excited because some of the Negro League stars would be on hand to sign autographs. Historic uniforms and free autographs – that’s all good. I have a lot of respect for these players.

I never will be able to imagine how frustrating and hurtful it must have been to be prevented from playing in the Major Leagues because of their race.

Wally Joyner looked sharp as a member of the Kansas City Monarchs.

Will and I arrived early and hopped on the line where Ted “Double Duty” Radcliffe, Lester Lockett and Dennis Biddle were signing; all were in good spirits and sharing stories about their playing days.

There was a woman sitting behind the table, too. Some people were asking for her autograph, which I thought was strange. I didn’t know if she was a player’s wife or an assistant. We made polite small talk while waiting my turn to pass a ball to the next player.

Signatures secured, we slipped down to the field to watch batting practice and snap some photos of the players in their Negro League uniforms.

I miss Tiger Stadium. What a great plce to see a game.

One of things I enjoyed most about old Tiger Stadium was that you could get right down near the field.

Before long, “Double Duty” then 93, was brought on to the field for some television interviews.

Ted "Double Duty" Radcliffe was 93 at the time.

Before the game, the Tigers brought each of the Negro Leaguers out on the field, and I noticed the woman walked out with the rest.

The Tigers announcer introduced her as Mamie “Peanut” Johnson, one of three women to play in the Negro Leagues in the 1950s.

Will looked over and said “Oops!”I was deeply embarrassed, exposed as both ignorant and sexist in one swoop.

Later I did the research. Johnson -- a right-handed pitcher -- and teammates Toni Stone and Connie Morgan played for the Indianapolis Clowns. Johnson posted a 33-8 record and credits Satchel Paige with helping her with her curve ball.

She was called "Peanut" after Monarchs third baseman Hank Bayliss came to bat against her and called out “You're nothing but a peanut!” Johnson struck him out and the name stuck.

Remember that scene in “A League of Their Own” when the black woman picks up and overthrown ball and whips it back on to the field? That’s a tribute to Johnson, who was turned away from a tryout when All American Girls Professional Baseball League would not allow black women to play in the all-white league.

Johnson taught me a lesson that day, and she’s still teaching, speaking about Negro League history around the country.The other players I met that day also have interesting stories.

Radcliffe got his nickname in the 1932 Negro League World Series, when he caught Paige in the first game of a doubleheader, then pitched a shutout in the second game.

Biddle, who pitched for the Chicago American Giants, tied Bob Feller’s record of winning five games as a 17-year-old in 1953, turned 18 and won 10 more. He injured his arm and was out of the game by 19. Today he is an executive with the Helmar Brewing Company.

Lockett played during the 1930s and 1940s with the Birmingham Black Barons, Philadelphia Stars, Cincinnati Clowns, Chicago American Giants and the Baltimore Elite Giants, hitting more than .400 twice.

I humbly apologize to Mrs. Johnson, and if I ever have the opportunity I’d be honored to have her sign my Negro leagues ball.

Baseball place No. 29: McKechnie Field; Alternative place No. 29A: Chain of Lakes Park

For a state that didn’t have a major league team until 1993, Florida sure does have a lot of must-see baseball places.

Josh Pagihian keeps us on the Gulf Coast with McKechnie Field in Bradenton as spot No. 29 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

The field has been a spring training site since 1923, and is one of the most cozy and traditional. It doesn’t even have lights!

The Cardinals were the first train there, and hurler Dizzy Dean liked the place so much that he opened a gas station, and could be found pumping gas when he wasn’t at the ballpark – which is how the team became known as the “Gashouse Gang.”

I’ve never been to McKechnie Field – I really do need to get over to the other coast more! – but I have been to another ancient spring stadium that’s not tremendously far away.

Alternative place No. 29A: Chain of Lakes Park

The equally cozy ballpark in Winter Haven capped off a remarkable three-park day in the spring of 1995, undeniable proof of my parents’ spoiling me.
Part of this was for work.

You remember that spring 1995 was a dark period for the game, when the major leaguers were on strike and the owner toyed with the idea of proceeding through the season with replacement players.

These guys were branded “scabs” and met with all kinds of derision. And while there were some veteran players who fit into that category, it wasn’t so cut-and-dry for others.

There were many career minor-leaguers who where told that if they wanted a paycheck playing baseball, they were going to be playing in these games. And for a lot of these guys, baseball was what they knew, and had always been their way of providing for their families.

One of the players in this situation was Mickey Weston, a pitcher from the Flint area who I spend a lot time with in 1990 as we chronicled his career. Mickey, as nice a person as you will meet, used baseball as the basis for his off-season missionary work.

He had been in different organizations for several years, including the Mets in 1993.

The Tigers were his favorite team growing up, and that’s who offered him a contract as a replacement player. He sort of became the poster boy for guys in this spot, even appearing on the cover of USA Today.

I had planned on making the annual pilgrimage to spring training, and the editors allowed me to catch up with Mickey and interview him about his experiences.

I picked a day that the Tigers were playing the Royals at Baseball City, and I called ahead for credentials. All was good.

Now, Baseball City could be a post to itself, going down as the most disastrous spring training site ever. The park, located in Haines City near Orlando, was first a theme park called Circus World, which we actually went to in the late 1970s. It was fun!

It became Boardwalk and Baseball, a theme park with the revamped Circus World rides and a new stadium, with the Royals signed on.

That incarnation of the theme park went belly up not too much later. The rides were demolished, but the stadium remained. The Royals had a lease, so they had no choice but to stay on the site, now called Baseball City. The Royals fled for Arizona in 2003, and the stadium, too, was torn down.

But I digress. Dad and I showed up at the stadium, and picked up my credential. Dad said, “I’m with him,” and they let him in, too.

We were looking around the visitors’ clubhouse for Mickey to no avail. Ballplayers are such cards, and several promised to find him, and pointed me to another player, none of whom were Weston, who I knew.

Finally, one of the coaches took pity, and told us that Mickey stayed wasn’t pitching, so he stayed behind in Lakeland to work out.

That wasn’t too far, and Dad said we could head over there. But first we took a walk out on the field, not wanting to let good credentials go to waste and all. And there, joking around the batting cage, was Royals soon-to-be Hall-of-Famer George Brett, retired, but in uniform working with younger players.
George Brett was working with players near the cage.

The Tigers folks called ahead to make sure we would be able to get access to the stadium when when we arrived. And sure enough, the staffers happily waved us through and said Mick was in the weight room. This time, Dad had to stay outside.

Mick was on a stationary bike, and greeted me with a warm smile. He said he figured I’d show up at some point, having visited him at his assorted stops after our weekend in Rochester in 1990.

Speaking as he pedaled, Mickey was gracious as always. He said he realized that at age 34, he didn’t have a lot of chances left and wanted to keep pitching. Pitching at on Opening Day at Tiger Stadium was a dream since childhood, and he was promised a year at Toldeo if the strike was settled.

We also spoke about his work that past off-season, traveling to far away countries to preach and conduct baseball clinics.

I wished him luck, left the weight room and found Dad standing in centerfield of Joker Marchant Stadium taking photos. He is fearless. I love that.

And here’s where the major spoiling comes in. Since we were up that way, were there any other games we could attend? I figured I was already pushing Dad to the limits of tolerance by going to two parks, leaving him outside at one of them.

But he likes a good road trip, and there was a game in Winter Haven, which wasn’t too far from Lakeland.

Winter Haven is old Florida, very different from the newer, fancier coastal areas were used to.

And Chain of Lakes Park isn’t as old as McKechnie, but seemed like it. The stadium was built in 1966 and held 7,000 people. Not that there were that many people there. It was an odd spring.

The Red Sox called it home from 1966 until 1992, and the Indians claimed it when their brand new site in Homestead was destroyed by Hurricane Andrew before the team even had a chance to play there.

The Tribe was certainly embraced. Chief Wahoo was painted on a water town near the field. There was some kind of domed building beyond left field. It might have been a water tank. But it was painted orange, complete with a green stem on top, no doubt a nod to the citrus farms around the area.
Look for the giant orange in left field.

We watched the replacement Indians play the replacement Cardinals. Looking at the Cards’ roster today, I don’t see a single name I recognize.

The Indians, however, had some minor-leaguers who went on the play in the majors, including Richie Sexon, Bartolo Colon, Carmelo Martinez and Joe Slusarski. Lance Blakenship was a former prospect.

I also saw Shane Turner, who was a teammate of Weston’s when I did the story in Rochester five years earlier.

We arrived a little late, so I didn’t keep score. I’m not sure who actually played.

The Indians ended up staying in Winter Haven though last season. This is their first year in Goodyear, Ariz. But Chief Wahoo remains on the water tower. The park’s future is in doubt, thought.

Weston went on to have a great year in Toldeo, leading the team with 11 wins and 69 strikeouts, and posting a 2.90 ERA. But he was denied a deserved September. Several other former replacement players were unwelcome in their clubhouses when they got the call to the show, and the Tigers must of have figured with was not worth the trouble.

Mickey deserved better.

And three stadiums in one day remains a personal record!

Baseball place No. 28: Batcolum; Alternative places No. 28A) Other sculptures dressed to impress

Chicago’s only three hours away. Will lives there. So it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with the Windy City.

And I studied art and architecture in college, so I know a lot of the city’s iconic public art.

It’s also safe to say Will and I have explored anything related to baseball in the Second City.

So imagine my surprise when Josh Pahigian directs us to something called “Batcolumn” as his spot No. 28 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

Apparently, at 600 West Madison Street, there is a giant metal sculpture shaped like a bat. He even calls it “the granddaddy of all baseball sculptures,” saying it rises 100 feet and sits in front of the Harold Washington Social Security Administration building.

It was created by Swedish pop artist Claes Oldenburg. He also created a giant hot dog, clothespin, toothbrush and other common items that are commonly small.

No wonder I didn’t know about this thing. You can’t have Euro pop artists creating stuff they don’t understand. It’s as if I tried blogging about soccer.

I prefer Chicago art that, like me, dresses for the occasion when a favored team makes the World Series. That takes us to:

Alternative place No. 28A: Chicago Picasso, Art Institute lions and Grant Park Indian warriors.

Chicago went nuts in 2005 when the White Sox went to the World Series. I was pretty excited, too, as the Sox have always been sort of a secondary favorite since they snatched Tom Seaver.

Will suggested I come over before Game One to soak up some of the atmosphere around Comiskey – what we’ll always call it – take part in some of the general craziness around the Loop then watch the game with friends at a packed sports bar.

We arrived at the ballpark just after a press conference where the Houston and Chicago mayors announced their traditional goofy bet. Staffers were loading a cow painted with White Sox logos into the back of a truck. Others were handing out cool Ozzie Guillen masks.

Many of the souvenir vendors were already open, and we picked up our programs and scouted the assorted caps and pennants that we would no doubt find cheaper elsewhere.The park was abuzz with activity, from special signs being hung on fences to uniforms arriving from the cleaners.

With masks and programs in hand, Will directed me on a downtown tour of Chicago reveling in its first World Series since the Eisenhower administration.

The first stop was massive Indian statues at Grant Park. The horses were decked out in their finest pale hosiery.

Ivan Mestrovic’s warriors, known as “The Spearman” and “The Bowman,” were erected in 1928 at the Congress Plaza entrance to the park.

We checked out “The Bean,” when found the Art Institute of Chicago, where Edward L. Kemeys’ lions that guard the front steps are wearing their Sox caps.

I wondered where exactly where they came up with baseball caps to fit bronze lion statues. I can see how a talented seamstress can whip together a couple socks for the horses. But these hats were plastic and big.

Kemeys gave the Lions unofficial names. The southern one is “Stands in an Attitude of Defiance” and the northern one is “On the Prowl.” Wonder what he named his kids.

The lions have been guarding the Art Institute since 1894, and have been decked out in team attire just twice before -- 1984 for the Cubs and the following year for 'da Bears.

Then we made it over to Daley Center Plaza, where the Chicago Picasso also was wearing a Sox cap. The 50-foot sculpture, erected in 1967, is technically untitled. Should have brought Kemeys over.

The plaza was filled with people attending a Halloween event. We were walking around snapping more photos when two television cameramen saw our Ozzie Guillen masks and asked us to pose in front of the Picasso.

They asked us to jiggle the masks, then pull them away and cheer. They had us to this several times to get the shot just right. We might have been on the Fox pre-game show.

We late caught up with friends and watch the Sox smack down the Astros at an over-crowded sports restaurant. Like the statues, we were wearing our Sox caps.