Talk of a new tenant in Sussex

The Advertiser-News, a weekly paper in Sussex County, has a follow-up article to the departure of the Sussex Skyhawks (a tip of the ol' hat to Ballpark Biz). Those on the ballpark side of things are saying all the right things -- hoping to get a team for 2011, considering independent and affiliated franchises, hoping local redevelopment and the ballpark can work hand-in-hand to make Skylands Park a destination for fans and families. But they have to say that now; they must do whatever they can to keep fans' hopes up and their minds on baseball and the ballpark that now -- and for the foreseeable future -- sits dormant.

A team for 2011 would be possible, but it would almost have to be an independent -- or even summer collegiate -- league team. But the Skyhawks were an independent league team, playing in the only independent league in the area, and that relationship fell apart.

As for an affiliated club? My personal opinion is that's just a smokescreen. I don't see how that will work. For one thing, with a capacity of 4,200, the ballpark is too small for anything but Class A ball. Double-A ballparks seat at least 6,000, so expansion would be needed. The only options in Class A is the full-season South Atlantic League and the short-season New York-Penn League. While a northern New Jersey rival to the Lakewood BlueClaws would be nice and would give the BlueClaws and the Maryland teams, the Delmarva Shorebirds and Hagerstown Suns, another northern road trip, I don't see the Sally League expanding north again after it shed its Lake County, Ohio, and Bowling Green, Kentucky, franchises to the Midwest League.

And the New York-Penn League has been done in Sussex County. The New Jersey Cardinals went west to State College, Pa., in 2006 for a new ballpark. If I recall, at the time part of the issue there was upgrades to Skylands Park -- the team wanted the management group to pay for the upgrades, and management wanted the team to contribute. Unless those ballpark upgrades are made before a team signs a lease, I question the chances of an affiliated team returning.

America suffers an outbreak of wanderlust

Everyone's hitting the road. Two of my co-workers leave tomorrow morning on a four-city baseball tour through the Midwest, while a friend of mine is off on a longer 10-day journey covering ballfields from Cleveland to Minneapolis to St. Louis. The New York Times' Frugal Traveler is doing what I did nine years ago, even using the same name that I tacked onto the entries in a former blog. And writers, reporters, photographers and bloggers everywhere are doing all they can to mark the 50th anniversary this fall of the publication of Jack Kerouac's On The Road -- the first journey of which began on July 17, 1947, or 60 years ago.

And though I've got enough to keep me busy at home, though our funds are strained by projects on the new house, and though we've got a long weekend in Chicago to look forward to in just three weeks, I'm jealous of each and every one of them. (Particularly the NY Times guy. I mean, come on, "American Road Trip"? I never liked it when I chose it, and now you're stealing it -- albeit an "it" that's not really "mine." But I'll save that whine for another blog.)

Perhaps I can satiate my own urge with a smaller undertaking, a more local journey emanating from home, a series of out-and-backs each day tucked in around my work schedule each night. It won't be as fun as the 3-in-3 odyssey I put together two years ago, but it's better than sitting at home dreaming about it. Day games are scheduled all over the tri-state area -- both on New Jersey's northern and southern ends -- and I have my choice. I can hit four ballparks in four states in four days, or four in three states. I can visit three new ones out of the four, or split them two and two. That breakdown will be determined tomorrow, when I have to decide between the 48-minute drive (so says Google Maps) to Bridgewater for the Atlantic League's Road Warriors-Somerset Patriots tilt, or the hour-and-48-minute jaunt up to West Haven, Conn., for the Can-Am League's matchup between Les Capitales de Quebec and the New Haven County Cutters. Bridgewater will provide the convenient and the familiar; New Haven would be a new experience, but also more of a haul. And considering today's journey, tonight's sleep and the timing of everything, the drive to Connecticut would be much more taxing.

If I can make the trip in three hours or less, it fits my requirement for a "there-and-back" journey. In other words, any ballpark that is a three-hour drive one-way from our house, and I'll consider it for a matinee -- or the occasional night game -- without staying over. I've done it to Baltimore and Pawtucket, but it's not the kind of trip I would make on only a few hours' sleep or if I have to work that night. So, depending on my schedule, only a handful of teams on the outer reaches of that three-hour window have games that are truly available to me. On Monday, the Tri-City ValleyCats just barely fit into that opening.

Ideally, I like my time at a game to equal or exceed the one-way travel time. It's not much fun when you drive three hours to get to the game but can only watch two hours of action before you have to get back on the road in order to make it home in time. I'll take a 2-2-2 split -- two hours driving, two hours at the park, two hours back in the car. It's not great when your total travel time is twice as long as your ballpark time, but those are the concessions I make to expand my reaches.

The trip to Troy, N.Y., just over the Hudson River from Albany to the east, took me a few minutes longer than two hours. It was a simple trip, though, the Garden State Parkway easing into the New York State Thruway, which took me up along the eastern edge of the Catskills and spurned I-787 just outside Albany. I took the beltway a few miles east, exited, crossed the Hudson, and found my way to the campus of Hudson Valley Community College.

Joseph L. Bruno Stadium is a recent and modern minor league park, built when the ValleyCats -- because they reside in the Hudson Valley -- essentially moved across the state line. Until 2002, the franchise had been in Pittsfield, Mass., as a Mets affiliate. But the New York-Penn League underwent a bit of a sea change in the late 90s and early 2000s, when the Yankees bought the league's Watertown, N.Y., team and moved the franchise to Staten Island; the Mets took over the club from St. Catharine's, Ontario, and established the Brooklyn Cyclones; the Pittsfield club moved to Troy, and Cal Ripken bought the upstate Utica Blue Sox and expanded the NY-P League south to Maryland.

When the Pittsfield franchise made the 42-mile move west, it adopted the Tri-City nickname, encompassing the Albany-Troy-Schenectady area, similar to the way the Angels want to dominate both Anaheim and Los Angeles. Of course, New York's Tri-City area is not to be confused with the Kennewick-Richland-Pasco region in Washington State, which is home to the Tri-City Dust Devils.

I have to say, I wasn't drawn in by the Tri-City moniker. To me, it didn't mean much, particularly because of the companion team across the country. To say I saw a game "at Tri-City" says nothing, but to tell friends what it's like to experience a game "in Brooklyn," "in Staten Island" or "at Trenton" is much more exciting. "Tri-City" sounds made-up, like something out of The Simpson. I'm not knocking it as a nickname for the Albany region, but it would not have been my choice on the Name the Team ballot. I'm sure it's a great advertising tool for the fans in the area -- which is what the team should be focused on -- but it's not going to draw me in as a tourist.

Semantics aside, the game was enjoyable. As I tend to find at these weekday afternoon games, the cheaper seats along the outfield foul lines were jammed with kids in color-coded summer camp shirts, while the premium seats from the far end of one dugout to the other were largely empty, their season-ticket-holding owners stuck at work for the only mid-week matinee on the schedule. So I took whatever ticket they gave me at the window ... and looked at it only out of curiosity. I never found section 230; instead, I spent the first couple of innings a few rows behind the third-base dugout, stood in line for another half-inning to buy my lunch, then ate it in a seat behind home plate and the protective screen, just slightly to the first-base side. After eating, I moved further out along the first-base line, getting out from behind the screen to have a clear view through my lens. (Pictures will be coming as soon as I can get them uploaded to the computer and sorted, but that may be a few days if I get to as many parks as I'm planning this week.)

Astros outfielder Hunter Pence is Tri-City's most recent graduate to the majors -- and its most beloved, it appeared -- and watching these short-season Class A games in the NY-Penn League becomes a guessing game as to which players may have the tools to keep climbing up the ladder. The ValleyCats could have another outfield prospect in Collin DeLome, while third baseman Craig Corrado and second baseman Russell Dixon looked like they could move quickly through the first few rungs of the system.

The player I liked the most, though, was Mahoning Valley Scrappers center fielder Adam White, the Indians' ninth-round pick in last month's draft. He entered the game batting just .224, with a .265 slugging percentage -- thanks to a triple representing his lone extra-base hit out of his 11 knocks so far this season -- but I didn't know his stats coming into the game and didn't make a point to notice them on the board. I view the NY-Penn League a bit like Little League or high school games -- your best players bat near the top of the lineup, with the best all-around players hitting first or third and the bottom of the order guys mainly fillers. Maybe this was White's coming-out party, the game that jump-starts the rest of his season. So when I saw White put up two hits, hustle on the bases and get caught stealing in a rundown between second and third because of his aggressiveness (he jumped the wrong way on a pickoff attempt). He may one day move Pence to a corner, or he not make it much higher than Mahoning Valley, but he made Monday's game pretty exciting.

I saw some early fireworks -- including the only home run, by tall Mahoning Valley first baseman Todd Martin -- in what turned into a Scrappers rout. As always, the experience was worth the trip. The fans treat it like it's a vitally important contest and you're sitting right on top of the field, where you can hear the crack, the thwack, the smack and the slide anywhere on the infield. If I get to bed soon, I should have enough time to get to sleep and build up enough energy to make it down to Bridgewater tomorrow.

I don't want to overdo it on the second day of the week, not when Wednesday and Thursday have so much to offer.

Last of the Expos

The fans in Washington have taken to the Nationals as everyone — outside of Peter Angelos — expected. You'll even see some Expos caps in the crowd at RFK Stadium, as I did on Saturday, a sign that those who come out to the ballgame aren't simply there because it's the new fad in town. These folks know their baseball.

Up in Vermont, the Expos name lives for one more season. I seem to remember the reason being that Major League Baseball — perhaps in an attempt to try to make everyone forget not only how badly baseball in Montreal crashed in the final years there, but also how poorly MLB has handled the situation (they still don't have a new owner for the Nationals, despite having had the bids in hand for months) — decreed that the Vermont Expos must have a new nickname for next season. (I'm pulling for Green Mountain Boys or Chunky Monkeys.) If any team should be allowed to keep the name, it's Vermont, located as it is along the Canadian border. I like the idea of holding onto that piece of history, but it's not meant to be.

The Expos are struggling on the field, though, with the worst record in the New York-Penn League. And the copy desk at the Rutland Herald is struggling too, if they (and their writer) think the road to RFK goes from Vermont to Savannah to Potomac to Trenton to New Orleans. Wrong capital city there. (But how appropriate that the team, which has been in existence for decades, has the Senators nickname? I can't believe it's taken me 2/3 of the season to realize that.)

As I plan to do with the naming contests for the Norwich Navigators and the new State College team, I'll stay on top of the naming developments in Vermont.

Skylands Park made for fans

July 25, 1999

Skylands Park is New Jersey’s Field of Dreams.

Take the barn-style architecture, add the rolling hills and countryside, and throw in 32 eager, aspiring ballplayers wearing those classic – and classy – Cardinal uniforms, and people will come, Ray.

I went to a town called Augusta Monday, just a little early, and spent some time walking the trails of Stokes State Forest, just seven miles form the ballpark off Route 206 north. I passed the Appalachian Trail getting there, too. You might want to make a day of it, in part because it is a one-hour, 45-minute drive up that way from the Little Silver/Red Bank area.

You’ll know you are getting closer to Skylands park when Route 15 goes from four lanes down to two and you start seeing the neatly rolled hay bales dotting the fields around you. Then you’ll get to the intersection with Route 206 and a gas station on the corner. Make a right there, and you’ll see Skylands Park on your left – across the cornfield. It’s a big complex, with a batting cage, karate school and a small sporting goods store that serves as the New Jersey Cardinals gift shop.

I flew solo on this trip and bought an $8 box seat at about 5:30 for a 7:15 game. I sat in the first row, just five seats from the third-base dugout, and have never felt so close to a baseball game in which I was not playing. The on-deck hitters for the Hudson Valley Renegades, the Tampa Bay Devil Rays’ New York-Penn League affiliate, were so close I could have offered them some last-minute tips before they walked to the batter’s box. I could see the wrinkles in their jerseys. When Andy Diaz, the former Florida State star I recognized from last month’s College World Series, came out and warmed up for each at bat, the breeze picked up. He whipped his Louisville Slugger around so fast with one hand loosening up, I just hoped he did not lose his grip.

Skylands Park and New Jersey Cardinals games are for real baseball fans. You have to be willing to drive nearly two hours to watch two teams with maybe two or three recognizable names between them. There were not nearly as many contests and giveaways between innings – no advertising the giant Cardinal mascot, and only a few appearances by the roving microphone guy in the stands. The T-shirt slingshot came out a couple of times, and it was autograph bat night, so about 50 fans selected by their seat numbers won wooden bats which they could have autographed after the game. There was no karaoke on top of the dugout, which was music to my ears. Other than the fried dough and fresh-cut French fries, the menu selection is small and basic. It was more laid back and I loved it.

The first two innings were scoreless. The Cardinals’ B.R. Cook allowed leadoff doubles in each inning, but exciting plays by shortstop Damon Thames and centerfielder Tim Lemon – who threw Diaz out at home – kept the Renegades off the scoreboard. Hudson Valley starter Cody Getz – a lanky 6-foot-8 lefty – imitated David Cone for five batters, striking out four of them, but then got drilled on the right arm by a Lemon line drive. Getz went five innings, striking out seven, but allowed four runs on six hits in New Jersey’s 7-2 win.

Skylands came alive in the third when the Cards took a 2-0 lead on three consecutive hits, including two towering doubles. It seemed louder than any of the minor league crowds I’d heard so far this summer, but that may have been because I sat so close to the action. Fly balls do not seem to carry at Skylands, and I do not know if it was the weather, the pitchers, the hitters or the park. As a result, the two teams combined for five doubles, a triple, and a lot of long flyball outs to the warning track. But doubles and triples keep the crowd cheering longer anyway.

Without anyone to help with the food testing, I could only muster an appetite for the nachos grande and a huge Pepsi in a $2.75 Cardinals souvenir cup. The nachos ($4.25) came with plenty of cheese and salsa, and the jalapenos added the spice. Pretzels are $2.25, peanuts and popcorn $3.25. Bottled water is $2.50 and beers (Coors, Coors Light, Sam Adams among the choices) cost $3.25 for 16 ounces and $3.75 for 20.

After the game, the Cardinals players were given autograph pens and the fans who had won bats were allowed onto the field to get signatures from any of the players. I imagine the autograph book giveaway on Aug. 16 will be handled in a similar manner.

I enjoyed the scene for a little while, then made my way to the parking lot. It took only five minutes to exit the lot, then about three more to get back to Route 15. The field lights illuminated Skylands Park, which stood out in the night of that Sussex County cornfield. I turned onto Route 15 and the traffic disappeared, and I was swallowed by the country darkness.

Holy cow! It’s mini-Yankees

Shad Whiteley delivers a pitch.

Second in a series.

July 11, 1999

The Pittsfield (Mass.) Mets were in town Tuesday, so the Staten Island Yankees billed it as the “Subway Series of Tomorrow.”

But how many of these players will actually make it to “The Show” and play against each other in a New York battle? Despite the lack of a subway that can get you from Staten Island to Pittsfield, Mass., I thought of it as the “Mini-Subway Series.”

It took 50 minutes to get to the College of Staten Island from Marlboro, where I went to pick up Uncle Paul – not really an uncle of mine, just one of those family friends you call “uncle” because that’s what your parents said. I owed it to him. He and Aunt Sandy took me to my first baseball game when I was 7 years old. It was Yankee Stadium in 1983, but I was more excited to see Reggie Jackson, who was with the California Angels then. Reggie was the only player I knew by name on either team. I still have a Yankee pennant from that day – yellowed from spending 16 years on the walls of my room – though I followed my parents’ influence and became a Mets fan.

The Staten Island Yankees, part of the Class A New York-Penn League that includes the New Jersey Cardinals, will play at the college through the 2000 season while their park is built out by the ferry terminal in St. George. It’s a nice campus, and the parking was free (maybe because we got there two hours before the 7 p.m. game). But for someone who has seen a lot of college baseball games, the setting was not that impressive.

The Yankees do a spectacular job with what they’ve got, though. A huge section of bleachers runs from the right-field foul line into right-center. They’ve also added grandstands past both first and third base to increase the seating capacity to more than 4,500. All the food stands and souvenir tents are lined up behind the first-base grandstand, along with a Port-o-John subdivision that serves as restrooms. It felt like walking along a carnival midway with Nat King Cole’s “Lazy, Hazy Days of Summer,” Sinatra’s “Strangers In The Night” – Paul’s favorite – and contemporary music for the kids coming through the speakers.

Our $8 tickets put us in the third base grandstand, right where the outfield grass meets the infield dirt. We had a perfect view of the field, and – take note – were in the shade of the trees as the sun set behind us. At 6 p.m., the outfield clock showed 101 degrees. And it was humid. By the time the game ended just before 10 p.m., it had cooled down to 89. Beware: It is a college stadium, and every seat is a metal bleacher bench. You get sore. Bring a seat cushion in case you do not catch a free one thrown into the stands.

On the field, the Staten Islanders truly look like Mini-Yankees (Mini-Michael Kaye impression here): “The Yankees are wearing their button-down white home uniforms with the blue pinstripes, the blue interlocking ‘NY’ on the chest and blue numbers – no names – on the back. Blue socks and blue caps, but no white interlocking ‘NY.’ Instead the lids have the Yankees’ famous bat and top hat logo, with ‘Staten Island’ written in the ribbon underneath.”

They even played “New York, New York” when the game was over.

Pittsfield wore black jerseys – somehow black is a traditional Mets color after little more than a season – and gray pants like the ones worn in Flushing in the 80s, with the blue-and-orange stripe down the legs. Also black caps with a “P” and blue bills.

With the Mini-Mets in town, the fans got into the New York rivalry. Throughout the game, the cheers were as loud for the visitors as they were for the home team. Maybe because the Mets provided all the excitement. Yankees starter Shad Whiteley struck out 11 in five innings, but gave up three runs. The Mets went on to win 6-0, but went down in order in the ninth when Marlboro’s Jason Faigin came on to pitch.

The Yankees make sure everyone gets involved, with contests each inning and about a dozen giveaways with signatures on advertisements in the program. The mascot – Scooter, the Holy Cow – and other spent the game in the stands tossing free stuff to the 4,100 sweaty fans.

Paul loved his job as the hot dog taster, going back a few times during the game for the $1.75 franks, which were “nice and soft, bigger than the roll.” Bottled Pepsi and water were $2. I had a couple of slices of (“Staten Island’s own”) Bario’s pizza, $2 each, with whole pies available for the entire family. Most snacks were brought through the stands by vendors, but you’ll have to walk (not far, though) to get any beer. Vendors stationed near the entrances to the stands sell Corona, Coors Light, Beck’s and Rolling Rock for $2.50 to $3.50.

As Nat King Cole sang while we filed out of the park, “You’ll wish that summer could always be here.”