Odds and Sods

Comerica Park opened in 2000, as a replacement for the iconic Tiger Stadium.  Intended to revitalize an area of an economically depressed city and to thrust the Tigers into the new millenium, it instead has been an unmitigated disaster, and the absolute worst of the new ballparks built in the last twenty years.  The Odds and Sods staff had the distinct pleasure of spending the bulk of the weekend at the park, and here are some observations about why exactly this park is so terrible.

The first and foremost mistake is the location.  The point of having a city park is that it feeds on the energy and personality of the city, providing a unique and scintillating environment.  Comerica does reside in the City of Detroit, though one would hardly know that from its immediate surroundings.  The stadium complex, with Ford Field, has been smoothed and sanitized to the point where it is completely alien to the organic city around it.  The only urban feeling one receives is the skyline in the background, but in a sense that also distances one from the city.  Rather than organic component of the city, it gives the aura of a bastion of white suburbia supplanted in the middle of a poor minority community.

The area was chosen to help revitalize a depressed area (or because the land was cheaper), but never really did so.  There have been a couple sports bars built within a block or so of the park, but once one walks two blocks in any direction, the third-world atmosphere with anandoned lots and punched out windows becomes readily apparent.  Like most Urban development projects, much of the profit went into the hands of the developers rather than the city and its residents.

A much better place to build would have been the riverfront, either off Jefferson or on Belle Isle.  A riverfront complex featuring the ballpark would have really revitalized the town’s tourist identity, made more money through development, and been a far more aesthetically pleasing environment (as seen in San Francisco).  The location of the park proved convenient for travel, located off I-75, but aside from that it really hinders the atmosphere at the park.

The field itself was extremely poorly designed.  It was originally far too vacuous for any semblance of exciting baseball to be played, 395 in Left Center and 420 in Center.  When they realized that they had no one on the team who could hit the ball that far, they simply put up another fence to cut off the distance in left-center, not ever bothering to put something into the gap and creating an eye-sore for two more seasons.  Even with the adjustments, the Center Field is unnecessarily deep at 420 feet (only 21 homeruns hit in 6 1/2 seasons).  Exciting home runs get converted into long outs.

Another dreadful design flaw in the stadium was the seating.  Unless one sits directly behind homeplate, there is virtually no area of the park where 100% of the field can be viewed.  Most often the corner in left or right field is obstructed from view.  The lower-deck has far too shallow of a rise, resulting in atrocious sightlines looking forward as well as to the side.  (Particularly behind a perm and/or melon-head)  The upper-deck is recessed and about a mile or so from the field, which cheapens for the experience for those behind the plate, but also minimizes the amount of cover available and leaves the vast bulk of seats exposed to the elements.  The way the seats are set-up cheapens the experience for many of the fans who remain remote from much of the action, if they can see 100% of it.

Food provides another example of where Comerica lies behind.  Other parks have “the Dodger Dog” or the “Fenway Frank,” while Comerica has absolutly nothing distincitve.  Parks like Seattle have a sushi bar, and incorporate a bit of the local flavor into the cuisine.  Despite substantial Greek, Hispanic, and Polish communities along with the largest Middle Eastern population in the U.S., there is no evidence of this within the ballpark.  It lacks distinctiveness and connection with the community.  The only facet of the park which truly screams Detroit is the plethora of Little Ceasars Pizza stalls, which (unlike their bretheren outside the park) are neither “hot” nor “ready” and come at $13.75 rather than the normal $5.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, there is an unnerving lack of atmosphere at Comerica.  The flat and open design of the park holds little or no noise.  The loudness comes from the blaring loudspeaker rather than the fans themselves.  Spontaneous fan interaction with the game is non-existent.  Like sheep, the fans clap when prompted, cheer or stand when instructed by the scoreboard.  The only fan initiated activity is the wave, which often occurs in the 8th inning of tied ballgames.  The park entirely lacks a true raucous and involved fan experience, which leaves one feeling a profound sense of disconnect.

Comerica Park is a festering carbuncle for both Major League Baseball and indeed for Detroit itself.  Its very essence is slick, corporate, and patronizing.  It in no way represents the endearing aspects of the people or the City of Detroit.  Through its unattractive location, its glaring design flaws, and its complete lack of a palpable ballpark atmosphere, Comerica Park divorces the fan from the spectacle, rather than incoporating him or her.  It is quite simply an atrocious place to watch a game.  The drastically improved product on the field ameliorates the situation somewhat, but that bauble of a baseball park will never compare to Tiger Stadium, and a new of generation of fans in Detroit will suffer as a result.