Doubleday Field is purposefully designed to be out of a different era. It doesn't have lights. It has the dirt path leading up to the mound, but it looks as if the grass died, not that it was marked.
There's a traditional grandstand with open seating the rest of the way around, and the only sign of electronics is the small, bare-bones scoreboard near the left-field foul pole.
It's a ceremonial place for ceremonial baseball, timeless yet not existing in any time. But for today's minor-league matchup between the local Oneonta Tigers and the Aberdeen IronBirds of Cal Ripken Jr., it was a showcase for the players.
Sadly, it was not a showcase for the fans. Twelve errors, about that many passed balls and wild pitches, several allowing runners home from third, and few hard-hit balls. The outfield grass slowed down every ball to an unreasonable degree, yet outfielders seemed unable to pick up the ball. Shortstops the size of David Eckstein repeatedly tried to heave flat-footed throws from deep in the hole, resulting in tosses nine feet high that couldn't break glass. Relievers threw high, low, hit batsmen, missed the catcher and generally underperformed.
Outside, there were a few ex-players signing (Denny McClain and Pete Rose have continued their convicts tour, you could call it), thousands of Orioles caps and but a few fans who seemed to be excited about the great Tony Gwynn.
Prices all along the food joints were jacked up to twice the price, or more, of what they are during the year. The locals have cleared out -- one told me he's in town for the induction for the first time in 35 years -- and price gouging is in full swing. On a trip to an ice-cream shop, the erasure marks on the chalk board were seen clearly on the prices and nowhere else. The menu remains the same, but inflation has done in three days what 30 years might take.
The big show tonight was the arrival of many Hall of Famers and the like, in a red-carpet ceremony of sorts. The crowds were gathered by 6, 6:30, though the guests of honor weren't to be there until as late as 9 p.m. One in the crowd freed up some spots by yelling, "Go this way!" and sending a few hundred folks in the opposite direction.
Parking is scarce -- the village is 1/20th to 1/30th the size of the expected crowd. In Cooperstown, people are selling their driveways for $15, $20, $25, $50 dollars -- one place had "one spot left!" for $1,000. Three zeros. Expect those prices to experience inflation tomorrow even more severe than that of the food joints. It's all business, and for those in the right place at the right time, business is good.
But baseball is king here, and for a weekend, at least, the national pastime is all there is to see. Other sports don't have the history, don't bring the pilgrimages, and rarely have the American heroes that many see in Gwynn and, especially, the Ironman. Nostalgia journeys near present tense with the induction of two men that even many children were able to see perform.
Tomorrow, a formality will take place. But it's likely to have echoing effects and memories. We can only hope the game itself feels those reverberations.
