April 14, 2016
(Randy's perspective)
The last thing I heard before we got on a plane for DFW airport came from my wife, Penny, a West Virginia lifer who loves almost everything about her home state but the winters. Her words: "I'm really looking forward to Texas because I'm ready for some sunshine and warm weather. I don't even care if it's hot. Eighty-five degrees would be fine."
It had snowed on us the previous weekend, you see. Snow in April. Almost as bad as snow in May, which we have also experienced.
We landed in Dallas. It was cloudy, with a chilly breeze and a hint of rain. The temperature was 60.
My daughter, Kelli, left West Virginia a few months after her 18th birthday. She was bound at that time for the University of North Texas, in Denton. I was with her when she checked in to her dorm. This is no exaggeration; as we unpacked the car and lugged boxes inside her dorm on that August 2005 day, it was 109 degrees. If only it had been a dry heat.
In spite of the heat, Texas grabbed and kept her. After graduation from UNT, she moved to Dallas and has been back to the Mountain State of West Virginia only to visit. She's in Year 11 in North Texas and Year 7 in sprawling, big-monied Big D.
I mention all that because we three - Penny, Kelli and I - have changed during the past decade. Grown ... that's what I hope we've done. Now I understand the basic tenet that seeking new experiences as you tick off birthday after birthday usually means you're going to change, but the point of this story is that baseball has been a growth catalyst for Penny and me. Maybe even Kelli, after now spending a couple of baseball experiences with us. (Probably not, but I can hope.)
Penny has learned to love the game. Her interest level has evolved from boredom to apathy to low-level interest to keen interest - maybe even devotion. She keeps a scorebook, for heaven's sake. Still, even more than enjoying the artistry and competition of the games, she loves how the senses kick in
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| Penny's hands, Penny's scorebook |
I, on the other hand, after loving baseball as child and reading all the box scores in the morning paper, had become a boring, only-truly-interested-in-one-team (the Braves) casual fan. I have on this wonderful journey rediscovered all of the jewels that Penny is soaking in for the first time.
Kelli knows little-to-nothing about the game. But she's a good sport, so she got in on the fun and attended two games in Texas with us. Night 1 was in Arlington, night 2 in Houston.
Either she had a great time, or she's a clever and enthusiastic actor. ... Actually, she is a relatively talented actor and a nice person - but I still think she had fun.
We arrived in Dallas on Thursday afternoon, kicked back for roughly an hour, then headed to the suburban cluster that is Arlington, Texas. The stadium is right off Interstate 30, essentially next door to both AT&T Stadium, aka Jerry's World, and Six Flags.
We later had a discussion about the merits of urban vs. suburban parks. Penny and I vote for urban. I voted a second time for urban parks as I plunked down $20 to park in a big-ass, blacktop parking lot outside the Ballpark at Arlington.
Once we reached the park itself, though, we had a "big ole time."
There are a few quirky and fun features outside and inside the stadium. You can go to a big spell-Texas display outside the stadium, only it's a T-E-(blank)-A-S. You can step up between the E and the A and improvise the X. It was a popular spot.
I know Penny's wrapup will talk about the perimeter aspects of the park, so I'll leave that to her because she's good at it.
I found going to Arlington a tad different. Often when I write about the baseball journey, I offer comments about my expectations for this park or that team, all based on childhood or earlier-life games I've seen on television. For example, last season Penny and I traveled to Minneapolis for a Twins game. The Twins now play at Target Field, but I shared what I knew of Minnesota, which included thoughts about the late Metropolitan Stadium and the Metrodome and Harmon Kellibrew and Kirby Puckett, who once broke my heart with a home run dagger he delivered in the 1991 World Series to vanquish my team, the Braves.
In fact, every city we've visited and every team we've witnessed brought back some thought or two that made seeing that team or place a kind of bucket-list experience.
The Texas Rangers? I got nothing.
Texas is a fine franchise, and the BallPark at Arlington was dandy. I just don't have Texas Rangers memories.
The closest I could come to symbiosis was thinking about Nolan Ryan, the fabulous, flame-thrower who pitched for five years for the Rangers and later worked for the team. Ryan, who threw six no-hitters in his career, is a Rangers legend. Has his own stadium statue.
Funny thing, he's also got a statue in Houston, where he's also a legend. We saw the Ryan statue in Houston the next night.
The Rangers beat the Orioles on this night. The Orioles had been hot. They were 7-1 coming into this game. But five Rangers runs in the sixth inning put them toward a 6-3 win.
Mark Trumbo homered for the Orioles. His homer was one of only five extra base hits in the game.
It was early-season baseball.
Nice crowd for a Thursday night.
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