Opening day at Chukchansi Park serves as empty reminder of what we miss about sports
There are no cracks of the bat or pops of the glove. No cheers from the crowd. No stadium announcer introducing the next batter or music pumping through speakers.
On what is supposed to be Fresno Grizzlies opening day, Chukchansi Park stands empty and the surrounding streets eerily quiet. At 6:50 p.m Tuesday., the scheduled time for first pitch, the loudest noise that can be heard while standing in Home Run Alley are the chirps, coos and flutters made by hundreds of pigeons roosting on the windows and fire escapes of the long-abandoned JC Penney building.
If you came here looking for baseball, swing and a miss.
“It’s like a ghost town or something right now,” says Luis Lopez, whose Gonzalez Taqueria taco truck is parked on Inyo Street outside Tioga-Sequoia Brewing Company.
In any other year, the beer garden would be filled with people and revelry. But since this is 2020, and all sports and communal events have been shelved by COVID-19, it’s deserted except for two employees taking to-go orders from behind a counter.
“We close in 15 minutes,” one of them says.
It seems to be a theme. Each of the stadium’s entrances are closed. There isn’t a ticket taker, or any Grizzlies employee, in sight. At the main box office along H Street, all the ticket windows are covered with team logos. As if to emphasize the point, a scrolling LED sign above the windows reads, “The Fresno Grizzlies box office is closed.”
Standing outside the Kern Street entrance, with its view into the stadium from beyond the left-field bleachers, you can easily imagine a game in progress and the dark green seats and concrete concourses packed with fans.
Then reality sets in. Last year’s home opener drew 9,155. This year, they all stayed home. Bending the curve isn’t just for junk ball pitchers anymore.
When will baseball ‘ambiance’ return?
A few people are scattered about. Every so often, a homeless person shuffles down the alley. Couples and families who live in the nearby Mural District walk, bike or ride scooters down Fulton Street. Some of them approach the gate and peer into the empty stadium.
In the adjacent plaza, where “Dancing Waters” and the other fountains still pulsate and gurgle, Marcus Cardenas and a friend film an iPhone video for Cardenas’ acting conservatory class while standing outside the old Luftenberg’s Bridal building.
“For the ambiance,” Cardenas replies when asked why they decided to film here.
When will the normal ambiance of baseball return to downtown Fresno? Could be sometime this summer or not until 2021. There’s no sure way to know, and the uncertainty grinds at us.
Some health experts, including Dr. Anthony Fauci, foresee a path for sports to resume sooner rather than later – except without the fans. And while that might be an option for MLB, it’s hard to see that formula working in the minor leagues.
Why? Because for community organizations like the Grizzlies, the fan experience is much more important (and vital to the bottom line) than what happens on the field.
Oh, sure. We come to enjoy the balls and strikes, the home runs, the diving catches in the outfield. Heck, after a month of being cooped up, even a routine grounder to short would be a welcome sight.
Missing what we take for granted
But what really matters – and what we miss out on during this time of social distancing – is the shared experience of attending a live sporting event. Just being among a large group of people, a few of whom we know and many we don’t, and not worrying about catching a highly contagious disease that could send us or our loved ones to the emergency room.
People watching on the stadium concourse. Chatting with Rod and Patt, our favorite stadium ushers. Laughing to the latest antics of Parker T. Bear. Hearing “Take Me Out to the Ballpark” during the seventh-inning stretch. Pumping just the right amount of mustard, onions and relish onto a freshly grilled Polish sausage.
Turns out the experiences we long for most during a pandemic are the ones we most easily take for granted.
“I’m hoping that coming out of this, everybody becomes a little more appreciative of what they have,” says downtown resident Manni Antonio after picking up dinner for him and his 5-year-old son Samson at the Taqueria Gonzalez food truck.
“Especially the little things.”
That’s a good thought, one everyone should take to heart. Across the street, on what was supposed to be opening day, Chukchansi Park stands as an empty reminder of what we’re missing.
