Tracy Larsen on Baseball | The Seattle Mariners | Move over, Kingdome: Safeco Field has arrived

Move over, Kingdome: Safeco Field has arrived
By Tracy Larsen, for Seattle Insider
Originally published by Cox Interactive Media, July 1999

Recent good feelings and overflowing nostalgia aside, we really have come a long way from the embarrassment of the Kingdome, our very own "Wart On Seattle."

And as much as I still cringe at the mere mention of the sell-out of a name, the Mariners organization has succeeded in creating a jewel of a ballpark in Safeco Field, a real diamond to behold. I'll just try to remember that while they're throwing stones more akin to coal at Christmas - the talk of selling Griffey and/or ARod due to their "cash-poor" position from those sneaky cost overruns, which aren't, according to them, cost overruns. Somehow they've gotten it into their Scrooge-esque minds that even though they signed off on every step of construction along the way and approved every change and problematic twist and turn, that going a hundred million dollars over the agreed-upon budget (sixty million of which they're demanding that we, the taxpayers, provide) does not a cost-overrun make. Funny, I thought that was the definition of the term.

But for once, I'm not going to complain about the extraordinary lack of vision on the M's owners' part, even though their latest underhanded tactics rival nearly anything I could imagine Steinbrenner dishing out. No, I'm here just to report what I saw during one day last week when I was lucky enough to visit Safeco Field. It was a misty, grey June day, a real Seattle summer afternoon (the designers of the retractable roof must have ordered that especially for our visit). One week after my first visit, here are a few of my first impressions that have stuck in my mind of Safeco Field:

Firstly, there's a new parking garage right next door, so naturally my first thoughts were that there would be no more paying $20 to park my car half a mile down the road, even when I've arrived early enough to catch BP. But unless you've already bought your season tickets or your luxury suite, you're out of luck; the garage has been reserved for those who have. More stalls have been added to private parking areas in the immediate vicinity, however. Quite the concession for half a billion bucks, I must say. And of course, various Metro buses still deliver people practically up to home plate, if anyone in Seattle is still listening to that piece of advice.

And that main entrance, dubbed the Home Plate Gate, located at the SW side of Safeco Field, welcomes you inside with a giant sculpture of translucent bats hanging overhead. This was somewhat strange to me, at first - it looked somehow unfinished. But as I took in the entirety of the welcoming entrance, they seemed to fit with the modern-day spirit of this old game. Art met sport, and in this more sophisticated age I supposed the glass bats worked.

From the bats you're led up the earth-toned, distinctly non-concrete-like (and hence, non-Kingdome-like) stairs (or via the elevators for disabled fans, or was that for the inebriated ones?) to the main concourse where you're greeted by a 27' wide terrazzo compass rose on the floor beneath you. In terms of the art which is scattered throughout the ballpark, I found this to be the most striking. Made with inlaid glass in the Mariners' colors of blue and teal, the compass - a vitally important piece of equipment to any mariner - is the anchor on which all other pieces of artwork rest. Around it's rim are engraved quotes from people in baseball, past and present, regarding the game. I had the chance to congratulate Stuart Keeler, one of three artists who designed both the rose and the SW entry rotunda, of which they should be deservedly proud. The compass, especially, should not be missed once you get the chance to visit Safeco Field. It will leave an impression.

Once you look up and away from the compass rose, however, you find the heart of any baseball park: the diamond. Spreading out in front of you is just what I'd imagined: a sea of green, immaculately groomed grass. The main scoreboard - one of eleven of them nestled around the field - has letters large enough for even John Hancock to appreciate. If you missed whether that last pitch was slightly wide or if it was a called strike, it shouldn't be hard to find out from this 56-foot-high scoreboard.

The left and right field "power alleys" are a decent distance from home plate - 390' and 386', respectively - but once again, this should be a hitter's ballpark more than a pitcher's paradise. As far as I can tell from the the field's dimensions, the designers and owners certainly seemed to have kept our sluggers in mind while it was being built. Homeruns won't come too cheaply, but Junior shouldn't have many dry spells, either. It would be quite a sight, though, to see one fly out of the park and find its way between the bleachers and the opening in the retractable roof.

Which leads me to mention something I'm not sure they've made clear about that roof. It's more... an umbrella. They should have called it "Bumbershoot Ballpark." It's not so much a roof as it is a covering. When it's closed (to keep the number of rain-outs the M's would have to make up to a minimum), the cold, damp Seattle air will still seep through the openings on either side, so keep that in mind during the bookend months of April and September, especially.

One pleasant surprise about the roof was just how quiet it was. I didn't even realize they were closing it until I looked up and noticed the sky disappearing. Although those steel girders look rather clunky, it certainly sounded and looked as smooth as a Rodriguez-to-Segui double play.

But to be able to observe the field of play unobstructed when heading for another Kielbasa or while on a beer run during the seventh inning stretch will certainly be one of the nicest new things about attending games at Safeco Field. As you make your way around the concourse to the bathroom or to one of the many new concession stands ("The Intentional Wok" was my personal favorite), you can keep track of balls and strikes. No more running back in a vain attempt to catch what all the hoo-ha was about from the growing applause (or boos) coming out of the overhead speakers. Monitors in bathroom stalls, however, must still be light years away.

But the nicest thing will be just what you will and won't be watching on the field. No more shiny astroturf. Just clean blades of freshly mowed grass waiting for the Mariners to rough it up a bit and give it some life. And they, of course, are the best part of it all. Without them, this beautiful new ballpark would just be an extraordinarily expensive room with its front lawn resting in its middle. But without us, they'd have no one to play for except themselves and their contract-rewriting owners. The ballplayers, as well as the fans, hold the real seats of honor in Safeco Field. Let's hope that those same owners see to it that their Golden Child - Griffey - sticks around long enough to watch all of the seats, luxury and bleacher alike, be shown off to the world in Seattle's first World Series game.

And maybe they'll stop long enough to read this quote from Doris Kearns Goodwin, the historian and baseball devotee, that's nestled inside the compass rose:

"The game of baseball has always been linked in my mind with the mystic texture of childhood."

They may or may not exactly get that, but at least they'll literally have to trip over it to ignore it.

Because children and grown-ups alike deserve to look up and see Griffey, ARod and the whole Gotta Love 'Em group poised and ready at just where the compass points:

Home.