Part Four...
PHOENIX—It may look like a spaceship or a giant Jiffy Pop pan of popcorn but Chase Field (formerly Bank One Ballpark) was home to one of the more dramatic final two innings of any game seven in World Series history… and it’s the only MLB stadium where I’ve actually held court with the President/CEO and Skipper of any team.
I’ve been a Diamondback fan since the day MLB granted Arizona a charter in 1995, three years before they played their first game. Since the inaugural season in 1998, I’ve been to roughly 100 games and watched or listened to another 800 or so. However, for the first time ever, I wasn’t looking forward to seeing my home team play, neither was my friend Joe, who was supposed to go with me.
Joe and I were indecisive about attending the third game in my baseball trip, debating vigorously while we slurped Hot & Sour soup, jammed Mu Shu pork in our mouths and gorged on tangy Orange Beef at the Super Dragon Chinese Restaurant. I wanted to go; it would be the easiest, least expensive stop on my trip. On the other hand, we really wern’t that eager to spend the time to find a parking spot downtown and to wait in long lines for a ticket, particularly since most of the recent games have been huge fiascos, leaving fans scratching their heads.
By the time the fortune cookie arrived, recommending the following lotto numbers: 4-8-16-39-41-44, we still didn’t have any idea whether we would attend. I could watch the game on TV, plagiarize an ESPN.com article, and save time, money and, more important, heartbreak. The problem with our earlier logic was this: When you stink, parking is readily available and the lines at the ticket counter are only two-deep.
I’m on trip to see as many stadiums as I can and I’m really not interested in driving 15 minutes to the see my home team? I’m not sure if our hesitation is an indictment of the Diamondbacks failing to field a competitive team, coupled with ghastly PR, or us just being really, really lazy?
After starting the season a with a 12-17 record, the club decided to fire the manager, Bob Melvin, and replace him with A.J. Hinch, someone with zero coaching experience. Meanwhile, the club had other options but decided not to exercise them. For example, Chip Hale, a successful former minor-league manager is a current member of the coaching staff and ready for the top position. Kirk Gibson, while not a former manager, is the bench coach and would have been a publicity bonanza for the club. Instead of someone with any experience, the organization promoted Hinch, 34, a big league catcher for seven years and a front office guy the past four.
While Melvin wasn’t a hugely popular figure in town, he was stable and had a fairly decent record in Phoenix: 337-340 in 4-1/3 seasons, with his only division title in 2007. He was, however, at the helm last season when the team coughed up the division lead in the last week of the 2008 campaign. I’m certain that didn’t help his situation, especially with a 12-17 record this season. After 29 games, the team handed him a pink slip and told him to get bent.
The Diamondback’s ownership, C-level management and PR department did one of the biggest face-plant jobs in the history of professional sports with Hinch. They handled the firing of Melvin just fine, if firing a guy a month into the season is fine; there was a small amount of grace by the organization. Conversely, they bungled the hiring of Hinch, leaving fans gasping for air like someone who was just throat-punched.
Many fans were baffled with the decision but not overly upset. What was most disturbing was the simple fact the team did very little to explain why they chose Hinch over someone with experience. For many fans, including me, it appeared the team purposely tanked the season with this move. It reminded me of Roberto Duran crying “no mas” during the eighth round versus Sugar Ray Leonard. Honestly, a little PR would’ve gone a long way in keeping me from avoiding games.
It’s not just me who has been dodging the Diamondbacks; a lot of my friends are avoiding the stadium like the Swine Flu, which may have been more entertaining than the Snakes. And when I say we’re dodging the team, I mean it. If I spotted the team at the mall, I would duck into Spenser’s or the Gap and buy something useless until they were out of sight, then laugh about how the team almost saw me and think about all the lame excuses I would’ve used to shake them if they wanted to chat me up.
However, about two hours before the first pitch Joe I decided we were going to the game, kicking and screaming albeit, but we were going. It was too easy to pass up and had I not gone, it would have broken the link in my trip.
The game started great for the DBacks; they pounded out runs quickly with the bat of Mark Reynolds. However, San Francisco took advantage of Bill Buckner’s rubber arm and pounded Arizona into submission. If the teams were Ultimate Fighters, the Giants would’ve won on a bare naked choke…or a TKO in the eighth.
My fury from another choke job didn’t go unnoticed and it shouldn’t have, for that matter. As fans, the ones who spend the money necessary to keep teams running, we should be critical when it’s warranted. And speaking out is exactly what I did … in the form of a terse e-mail to Derrick Hall, CEO of the DBacks, as soon as I got home from the game.
Ownership of professional sports can be a funny thing, they’re often arrogant and condescending with OUR money, and then expect us to sit silent while they make horrible decisions. And if we speak out in frustration, we’re “not real fans” or we’re labeled “fair-weather fans.”
In the case of the Diamondbacks and Derrick Hall, that’s simply not the case. Despite their disregard, in my opinion, for the fans during the weeks following the Hinch move, Hall responded in earnest to my e-mail. Within ten minutes, I received a response explaining the motivation behind the hire and he expressed his desire to get me back on the wagon. We exchanged a few more e-mails and set up a meeting between Hall, Hinch and myself for the following day. Hall was convinced if I met his man, I would see first hand why the team went in this direction. Honestly, Hinch wasn’t the problem for me; the problem was the lack of communication from the team, but I was interested in meeting his man.
The next day I met with Hinch and Hall in Hall’s office at Chase Field. I initially felt bad Hinch was dragged into a meeting with some knucklehead like me but I quickly found Hinch wasn’t forced into anything. For reasons that escape me, Hinch was a willing participant, and he spoke with tremendous energy for 45 minutes about the upside of the team, strategy going forward and his extreme desire to win. What impressed me more than anything was the fact they missed the first ten minutes of the 2nd round of the College Draft while we shot the breeze and shared a few laughs.
As Hall suggested, I was impressed with his man; I was impressed with his drive and energy and, most remarkable, they sold me in less than an hour. At first I wasn’t sure if Hall met with me knowing I would spread word to disgruntled fans that Hinch was a unique guy with remarkable potential or if he sincerely wanted to address my concerns about my team. However, in the past week we have exchange a few more e-mails and I realize Derrick Hall and A.J. Hinch are trying to win games and fans at the same time.
Next Stop: Coors Field
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment