Minnesota loses the culture of cold

May 11, 11:33 AMSouth St. Paul ExaminerRob Shirk

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March baseball, 2008

We Minnesotans like to think of ourselves as tough, hardy people, reveling in winter's wrath, embracing the climate's hardships. A lot of us are wimps, though.

The Metrodome has been home for the Minnesota Twins for a generation. They have fashioned a kind of baseball field on a football field, tucked into one of the corners. While sitting on the right field line, your eyes are taken to what would be the middle of the football field. It takes you to the outfield. Same thing on the other side.

I could go on and on but the most singularly glaring hideousness (is that a word?) is lack of sunlight. It is always overcast in the dome with the sweet smell of plastic wafting past our indifferent noses.

Well, the argument goes, what about April and the cold then? It's no picnic in May, either, or so that line of thinking goes. We whine about it. Baseball is played in lots of northern climates and everyone does just fine. There have been no snowouts in 2009. The photo is from March, 2008 in Cleveland, Ohio.

New York is the warmest spot in April with an average temperature of 53 while we rugged, healthy, hardy, folks freeze our hot dog buns off at 46 degrees. Detroit's average temperature is 47 in April, Cleveland checks in with a 48, Chicago shivers through average temperature of 49. Would I go to a game during April? Hundreds of thousands do elsewhere and I am pretty sure I would as well.

But what about the heat? Ooh, the heat. We whine about it. It is probably the last thing to worry about around here. Surprisingly, we're at the top of the list as far as July heat by a gaping difference of one degree except in New York where they manhandle us by an average of 77-74 degrees.

Minnesota just had its fishing opener last weekend where thousands of people got into a boat with temperatures that were...cold. Top to bottom there is a big range from the Canadian boarder to Iowa. Anyway, there we sat not doing much of anything, really. Sitting still, sitting stationary, waiting for a nibble. We do this for hours, have fun and lie to friends and then do it again the next day in hopes for a walleye.

Fast forward to next April. Thousands of us will find a seat in Target Field. Sitting still, telling lies to friends, sitting stationary, waiting for a hit or homer. We do this for three hours or so and then do it the very next day in hopes of a three game sweep.

Fast forward, again, to next October. The leaves have turned color, there is a briskness in the air. We can see our breath in the cold Friday night sky as the high school football team (Go, Packers!) takes the field. We sit there not doing much of anything, telling lies to friends and saying to one another it's a perfect night for sports. We sit there for hours and we would do it the very next day if the boys would be up to it. If only we could beat St. Thomas Academy, we say.

Ah, but then there is baseball, the national pastime. Should it be played indoors in hovel called the Metrodome? A whole generation has brainwashed ourselves that it's too cold or too hot. We have lost our moxie. We lost our culture of cold, of sturdy, ruddy cheeked Americans like Paul Bunyan, you know?

By the way, it does get mighty cold up here during the winter. So does Chicago, Cleveland, Boston, Detroit, and even New York. We go ice fishing and snub our noses, if we can feel them, at Mother Nature. I can hardly wait for next April at Target Field. According to some, I'll be the only one there.