Time Passages

It helps the daily jungle gym of life to be realistic about the status quo, I find.  I can dream always and forever, I can plan, aware of the stakes.  I can walk down the street listening to the theme from Black Caesar and envision myself in another time and surrounding.  (Tip: Keep this in mind when you meet someone where delusion reigns supreme, and you’ll find out just how well adjusted you live.)

So I suppose I am an adult, yes?  My responsibilities are now categorized as such and typical for someone my age.  I feel youthful, but that’s about all it is: a feeling.   I can be on a roll of comedic material with new, younger employees, and then make a fatal fuck-up: a reference before their time.  History, Pop Culture History, an old athlete…makes no difference:

“What?  Oh…was that in the 80’s?”

Yes it was…but come on, I know about shit from before I was…aw, forget it.  The joke isn't on them – it’s on me.  So, I guess I’m old.

Then I have lunch with a retired dealmaker who is telling of current life.  “She wanted me to make dinner!”  Is this an unacceptable request?  “Yes!  That’s how it works.  I mean, I go the butcher, you know, but she does the shopping, the cooking.  Sometimes I’ll clean the wine glasses, because those are done by hand.”  Mighty thoughtful of you, I suppose.  Is my situation the same?  No, it’s not.  I don’t mind doing some of the work, as long as—

I was interrupted (politely) and told the game plan from another generation.

“Look, Trip, you know what I told her?  I said ‘I can find plenty of women in the county who would like to cook me dinner, OK?  And I don’t have to set the table or any of that bullshit.’ ”  You don’t have to do anything?  That’s a pretty good life.   And I think if I tried to find a lady my age or younger who’d do exactly this request, I would probably get a zonk in my chops.  So, I guess I’m young. 

The pendulum of life always swings, but it is a mighty leaden tool…and it feels like it’s just hangin’ there; a giant disco medallion, stuck in fur.  

The Dome finally goes to the Dump

(Editor's Note: Writer Trip Darvez mentioned that this story is "likely the least Gold topic there is" but felt it was worth sharing all the same.)

From the 50's to 1981, Metropolitan Stadium was the major sporting venue in the Twin Cities.  By first and all glances, it isn't much.  As the general sports scene grew up in the area, the volume of sports fans increased.  The stadium game at the time dictated little change beyond "maintenance," so things like "indoor bathrooms for half the stadium" were never implemented.  And yet, football fans continued to pack the place.  When the Metrodome was built, fans had to accept the inevitable: the fun, the home field advantage enjoyed...it's all gone.

Before the final game, it hit tailgaters like a bottle to the head: this was it.  When you move to your new stadium, Duane and Carl, you can't tailgate.  This was no reason to give up, though: they were there to make the best of the situation.

At this point, the Vikings were out of the playoffs.  Nothing to do but play out the string.  Knowing that, look at these folks...

They are having a fantastic time, already on Schmidt #2 and it's not even 11AM.  Doesn't matter.  Well, hours later, it was game time, and the mood ebbed and flowed per usual, but the celebratory toasts went all afternoon.  How else are you supposed to stay warm?

NBC Sports was there to cover the game, and they milked it for all it's worth.  It's tough selling a game the last week of the season with two teams out of it.  Montages of the park's building...all the highlights to Frank Sinatra.

Two exclamation points.  We're live!!  The game: boring.  Vikings tease a comeback but lose (there's a shock).  And yet, throughout the game, there were shots of what everyone was feeling...we're saying goodbye to a friend.  Life as a fan is changing, and change in Minnesota is difficult.  It's especially so when it's change that seems to be for the "better" but is so far from "the same" that nostalgia pours through the veins.

With the game over, despite the increased security, fans stormed the field.  In the stands, they took everything they could.  You're taking away "my" stadium?  Well, then I can pick this carcass clean.  What do you think about that, Mr. Politician?  I'm not going to buy anything.  I was here in the cold for years.  I deserve this.  This is mine.

And then, as the drunks slowly sobered up, and reality '81 was setting in, a banner flew from fans among the debris:

The definition of being a fan was changing.  You were to pay increased prices, buy merchandise, and cheer when the big scoreboard's clapping hands told you to.  I'm not sure if this was the prevailing mood of everyone at the time, but a vintage news clip held this nugget: a fan, tailgating outside before the game...

"The dome is beautiful, something we gotta have, but...(looks around) this is the best."

Progress, Metrodome style, meant:
Built to budget withOUT adjustments to inflation (which was sky high at the time)
No air conditioning because "it's built underground"
Cheap astroturf with minimal padding
1 sheet of turf for all sports.

So, now in 2013, the Blunderdome is finally getting the ax.  I mean, look at it:

The roof looks worn and...whoa - I'm sorry, that's a photo from 20 YEARS AGO.  As newer stadiums went for either bang or bang for your buck, the Metrodome was neither.  It's complete lack of amenities (and comical attempts to make up for it) glaring to each visitor made it almost embarrassing to enter.  This didn't stop the Metrodome from hosting major events, but it was rare that the major event ever returned for a 2nd go around...they saw all they needed to see.

With the stadium long-overdue for the wrecking ball, I asked former Pacific Gold writer Drew Boatman for his thoughts.  He, too, suffered through the stadium as the only game in town, and together we present you a summary of this stadium as a venue:

The stadium itself:

• That it took almost 10 years to get a video board.  Video replays attempted to be played on the black and white scoreboard, which was clearly incapable of doing so.  Canterbury Park had a better video board at its start.
• The cups for drinks at the start...a soda said "cold drink" (blue) and beer said "Beer" (yellow)  Reusse says "At least the pop says it's cold...they can keep the beer any temperature they want"
• One sheet of turf meant chalk lines...on turf...we can't have PAINT in the end zone, that would cost too much.  Chalk.  Chalk yard lines...chalk end zones.  Cheap, cheap, cheap...
• The Met concessions sold cigarettes and cigars (!) but the Met was proudly "No Smoking!"  When enough of a fight was put up, They converted an entryway into a smoking lounge and piped in the radio call..
• The "We Like It Here" banner, put up as if to deflect attention, likely written by Sid Hartman.

Football:

• When the Super Bowl was at the dome, instead of replacing the worn astroturf, they just painted it to "look new."
• Heading to the bathroom during Super Bowl XXVI (which most people only did at the end of quarters/halftime to not miss anything) and seeing hookers in the concourse.  (Editor's Note: not a slam against the stadium per se, but something they should have included going forward)
• "Security" only seemed to exist to help old people find their seats

Baseball: Minnesota got indoor baseball to combat cold and rain-outs.  Be careful what you wish for...

• The Twins (awkwardly shoehorned into a football stadium) played "Talking Domeball" during the 80's after a Twins loss, a god-awful song.
• The Hormel Row of Fame promotion during Twins games.  The winning row won a free hot dog.  As the song goes, "Great for lunch, great for dinner, you could be a wiener winner in the Hormel Row of Fame"  People were embarrassed every time.
• The Twins band-wagon fan base swelling during World Championship runs, turning it into an "advantage" - an advantage that went away when they weren't playing good...

Basketball?!  Yes, basketball was played there.  No one wanted to play at the Met Center or St. Paul Civic Center...so it was the dome.  A decision made over and over again...the wrong decision.

• An awful place to watch a game.  You had to have GREAT seats...otherwise, you're screwed.  The great seats were about 8,000 total.
• The 1st NCAA tournament games in 1986 (sitting on the 3rd base side about 20 rows up) and still not being able to see anything.
• 1996 regional finals, and my seats were further down the 3rd base line...FACING OTHER SEATS.  You had to turn completely to your right to see the court.  The fact that these seats were sold without any sort of discount tells you something about the Metropolitan Stadium Commission.
• Sitting in the upper deck for a basketball game, Drew thought " there is absolutely no worse place on planet earth to watch a basketball game."

And yet, realities gave the Metrodome a much longer shelf life than it ever deserved (if it should have been built that way in the first place).  So, with it finally gone, I searched far and wide to see if I could find the same thoughts by fans on this stadium going away.  Not memories of teams...of missing the stadium.  The same way people missed and loved the Met.  Any video or photo evidence would be included.

Well, as of this writing, 10,000 seats have been sold (not taken, sold, with accepting fans) so there is some nostalgia...but still I searched.  I wanted to find someone who said they loved the place.  Someone who enjoyed the whole environment of the dome.  After reading nearly a dozen articles (and scanning video footage), I found a quote:

"People called it a dump,” Lonke said as he looked around the stadium. “But it was our dump. And we loved it.”

Even someone who loved it called it a dump. Or maybe it was this quote that sums it up:

"I am going to miss the Metrodome,” Tom Tolve of Brooklyn Park. “I usually come at least once a year for a monster truck rally.”