HARTFORD
The challenge for a new Minor League Baseball venue is to make the ballpark modern and at the same feel like baseball belongs there.
Combining shiny and nostalgic isn’t an easy mix. But if the Hartford Yard Goats’ opening night was any indication, Dunkin Donuts Park is off to a good start.
It’ll be a long time, decades maybe, before many Connecticut residents don’t look at Dunkin Donuts Park the way middle-aged Bostonians think of the Big Dig. It was a expensive, controversial project that cost more and took longer than anyone projected, and lawsuits are still ongoing.
Even the impressive-looking final result can’t entirely smooth that over until some time has past. But the opening meant that April 13, 2017 was the start of something new in the sports landscape and not just the 20th anniversary of the last Hartford Whalers game.
But for the people just above the border in Massachusetts, Dunkin Donuts Park is an evening of high-level baseball (Colorado Rockies Double A Eastern League) not far away that didn’t cost them anything in tax dollars. It may have opened a year late, but following fights, firings and legal action between owners, contractors and politicians there’s a really nice stadium just off of 91.
It’s been a while since affiliated minor league baseball has been this close. Affiliated Minor League baseball left Pittsfield in 2001 and Holyoke in 1982. Even when they were open, they were mom and pop shops. Hartford is a true representation of what Minor League Baseball is in 2017 – a little kitchy, a little corny, plenty folksy and plenty corporate. Even though everything, all the way down to the umpire’s hotel, had corporate sponsorship, there’s still room for the kids in the Hartford Pride Drill, Drum and Dance troop to perform pregame as their parents jockeyed for position to snap photos.
The field dimensions are unique. In addition to 28-foot tall wall in centerfield, right field has two decks of seats. In front of the lower deck is a taut screen that runs from the foul pole (317 feet from home plate) to center field. The screen is actually in play, as ball needs to reach the second deck to be a home run. There won’t many line drive home runs, but the opposing outfielders may find the screen carom a challenge. Home runs will fly out more traditionally to left field, where hitters can watch themselves on a scoreboard large enough to be potentially visible from space.
The goat-chomping-a-baseball-bat logo is present everywhere. A Yard Goat is actually a worker train that pulls other trains around a rail yard. But the club has emphasized the goat part of it’s nickname all of its merchandise. Fancypants, an actual goat from a nearby farm, greeted fans in its pen behind the centerfield wall.
This isn’t like at some ballparks where the corporate title sponsor’s presence is only felt on the signage. From the inaugural mascot race where iced coffee overcame a hamstring injury to edge a sprinkled donut and hot coffee to the on deck circles that look like pink glazed donuts, the park actually does run on Dunkin.
Even the some of the park’s signature meal items are tied to the chain that many New Englanders have a lovingly co-dependent relationship with. The shish kebab skewers that alternate munchkins and barbecue sauce-drenched chicken tenders were tasty, while the BLT that sandwiched bacon, lettuce and tomato between two donuts looked a little gross.
While those selfie-friendly items will get the most attention, the true food treasure in the park has nothing to do with breakfast pastry. Bear’s Barbecue has a handful of Connecticut locations, and the aroma alone from i’s ballpark outpost is enough to draw people into the left field corner. Smoked brisket or pulled pork over mac and cheese and cornbread is $12, which is not unreasonable by ballpark standards and the same price as a large premium beer.
Ideally there will someday be restaurants, bars and stores nearby to create a ballpark village feel. The game atmosphere itself is not an entirely finished product, either. But that’s a good thing. There’s room for traditions to develop organically. The centerfield wall will someday be nicknamed for a slugger that hit a few over it or an outfielder who a memorable catch or two in front of it. The seventh inning stretch still needs its signature song or dance or something to make it stand out.
But there’s time for all that. For now, it’s a pretty good place to watch a baseball game.
Matt Vautour can be reached at mvautour@gazettenet.com. Get UMass coverage delivered in your Facebook news feed at www.facebook.com/GazetteUMassCoverage