AJC > Sports > Braves > Blog > Archives > 2007 > March > 04
Sunday, March 4, 2007
There are worse places to be, for sure
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
I figured it would be a good day when I turned the Ipod to shuffle mode at the rental house and the first song was Greg Brown’s “Where is Maria?” Great song for a Sunday morning, coming down or otherwise.
As if that wasn’t great enough, the next five were revved up numbers, in order, by Black Lips, Led Zep, Flaming Lips (seriously, two Lips bands almost back-to-back), Sonic Youth, Public Enemy (“Fight the Power”) and then a Merle Haggard beaut, “I’m a Lonesome Fugitive.” That’s a helluva start, folks.
Then there’s the fact that the first sometimes-gnarly drive of the spring, to Vero Beach, is on a Sunday, so traffic not an issue at all. But a lot of cops on the Florida Turnpike. A LOT of cops.
I envied a lot of the bikers headed the opposite direction to Bike Week in Daytona. But then again, I’m sure a lot of people would like to be where I am now, at tradition-steeped Dodgertown. Place never gets old (well, actually, it’s quite old; I should say it never gets tiresome coming here).
If the Dodgers leave after next year, as planned, and no team replaces them here, it will be so depressing to see this old complex start deteriorating with no team on the fields, no young players staying in the dorms, no “Wecome Back To Dodgertown” sign over the street welcoming the players back for spring training, no Dodgers legends and coaches on beach-cruiser bikes in full uniform, peddling from field to field…. Shame, shame, shame.
The Orioles are nuts to stay in Fort Lauderdale when they could come up here and take over this place. And that’s from a guy who lived in Ft. Liquordale for 13 years. Great town, but not for spring training, and not in that bad park they have, next to the traffic snarl of I-95. But anyway…. I know that city finally capitulated and agreed to a lot of upgrades at that park to keep the Orioles.
But as I said, some team needs to be here at Vero Beach, at Dodgertown. It IS spring training, the fans right on top of the field, literally able to reach out and touch _ or just talk _ to players in the open dugouts with no roofs.
Francoeur spent 20 minutes signing autographs behind the Braves’ dugout after batting practice today. I was asking him some questions while he was signing, and you should’ve heard all those fans, so appreciative that he was taking the time to do that for old, young and everone in-between.
He reminded me of Cal Ripken, who could be a real high-maintenance guy for team officials and sometimes the media to deal with, but was a tireless autograph-signer for the fans. That was really cool, to see Cal doing that every day, every city, for a half-hour or so. Let’s hope Francoeur never forgets how important that is, how such a relatively easy gesture can make so many people so grateful.
Those folks today, I’d imagine are huge Francoeur fans now if they weren’t before….
But enough sappy stuff for one day…. I’m walking with Schultz past the Braves clubhouse over the dining troughs (their spread here is fit for kings, or at least more fit than ink-stained wretches deserve, complete with waiters and waitresses), when an older woman says in a disappointed tone to anyone in general and, apparently, us two AJC staffers in particular: “I drove all this way to see Chad Paronto pitch, and he’s not here….”
I’m assuming she wasn’t related to Chad, since she would’ve probably known he wasn’t coming, theoretically at least. And so, that leaves only one conclusion: The big man Paronto has at least one fan who will drive long distances to see him pitch in a spring training game. And that’s nice. That’s a fan of a man.
Rubbing sticks and stones together makes the sparks ignite…. I’m wondering if the Disney drones (and I say that lovingly) who program the song loop that plays before every Braves home game realize what the Starland Vocal Band’s “Afternoon Delight” is about. If so, I tip my cap to them….
Old Florida, good Florida: Not only should every baseball fan who hasn’t been to Dodgertown schedule a trip before the end of next spring training, but also make sure to drive into Vero on the state road that runs into the Turnpike at the Yeehaw Junction exit (those who’ve not been here think I’m kidding about Yeehaw Junction; I’m not).
Anyway, the road, which is perpetually under construction, offers the chance to see a slice or two of old Florida. I always stop along the way in one of the little driveways with the No Trespassing signs, because I’ve just driven an hour or so from Orlando and consumed much coffee, if you know what I mean. I always stop at one of these little driveways that are surrounded by palm trees and Spanish oaks and all sort of tropical vegetation growing wild, and you can usually see a rickety old house beyond the fence. There were a bunch of real, live, flamingos nearby standing on one leg while I, uh, looked around.
Anyway, it’s a great 20-mile or so stretch of road, with endless orange groves. I literally could reach out over the fence and pluck an orange or two off a tree (of course, that’s if I wanted to and asked permission from the homeowner, huh-um). And this old guy had a stand with a handpainted sign that read: Peanuts, Georgia peaches, Gator jerky, tomatoes.
OK, gotta go down and talk to Chuck James, who gave up three hits and two runs in two innings. Just got a call that he’s ready in the clubhouse. Later, folks. Enjoy your Gator jerky, if you got any.
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