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My fondest minor league baseball memory
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I think my fondest memory of attending a minor league baseball game was sitting in the upper deck of the stadium the Windy City Thunderbolts use a few days before Indpendence Day several summers ago. It was the kind of night that is made for baseball, you know? It was a perfectly warm night and the Thunderbolts were not the back-to-back champions that they are now. More than likely, they were not going to end up in the post-season at all that year, like so many seasons before.
At the time I was living in the far northwest suburbs. Making the trip south to Crestwood, Illinois, to visit the Thunderbolts was a real chore. Given the fact that Chicago is notorious for having "construction season" during the summers, it was even more of a chore. In fact, the Schaumburg Flyers were only about two football fields behind the townhome I lived in. It made more sense to go there, but I had become fond of the Thunderbolts, their fans, and their stadium.
The Thunderbolts stadium is a rarity among minor league teams. It has an upper deck. There are huge power lines running near and around the stadium, so the upper deck only goes about half-way around the stadium, as if they ran out of money while building the thing. I had not sat in the upper deck before but decided to this night. It also happened to be a night where fans got John Deere Thunderbolts hats. There we all were in our bright green caps with the yellow WC on the front, rooting for the team.
The upper deck was mostly empty. I sat close to the front. I could see the field and, more importantly, was just high enough to see the surrounding area. The sun went down. The lights came on. The game was actually pretty good, although the Thunderbolts were struggling. Still, they stayed in the game. The hours went by and then a magical thing happened.
I started noticing the fireworks in the distance. Then I noticed more. They were far enough away that you really couldn't hear them, but you could see them. Those in the lower levels likely could not, but we were just high enough in the upper deck to see them clearly. Communities all over the south side of the city were settting off their fireworks. More and more of the colorful explosions filled the air.
It was the kind of night reserved for those who enjoy minor league baseball. In a major league stadium, the walls of the stadium would have blocked the view. The noise and spectacle inside a major league stadium would have drowned out and obscured the fireworks. It was just there for those of us who sat in the upper deck that night and watched guys just playing because they loved to play.
That's what's special about the minor leagues. The minors offer those special moments you just don't get anywhere else. It has a kind of purity about it. It's magic.
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