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Photograph by Scott Rovak
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Cardinal Stadium
By now—if you’re really lucky—you know your way around. You know where to park, which gate will get you to your seat quickest and where to buy those Nachos Grande. Albert Pujols’ bat has hit a few homers, and Scott Rolen’s defense has saved a few runs.
This year, even one trip to a Cardinals game is a luxury, and learning Busch III’s nooks and crannies will take some time. For those still trying to buy scalped tickets or fighting for SRO, here are nine different
vantage points—one for every inning—explored on Opening Day.
Before the Game
The concourse, despite its much-talked-about expansiveness, is crowded and cramped. Most fans are looking up, smiling and gawking, trying to get their bearings. It feels as if you’re someplace else—in another city, perhaps, or in some weird alternate Cardinals universe.
John and Kathryn Tomazic of Kincaid, Ill., are posing for pictures with the ballpark as backdrop. John holds up a sign that reads, “This is my 50th consecutive home opener.” He stops to talk about how he likes the new park, about how the 100-mile trip to St. Louis is something he doesn’t think twice about. “My first home opener was 1957, and I played hooky from school,” he says.
Tomazic recalls favorite players: Curt Flood, Lou Brock, and of course, Stan the Man. Kathryn shows off a charm bracelet John bought for her at the first Busch Stadium when it was known as Sportsman’s Park. “I wasn’t a Cardinals fan when we met, but he made me into one,” she says. The Tomazics are like a lot of fans: Dedicated, determined, diehard. So far, they like what they see.
1st Inning: The Suite Life
MVPs Party Room
Moving away from the crowds decked out in red, past an usher checking tickets and up an escalator, you reach the suite level. It’s quiet, almost businesslike.
In the Cardinals MVPs Party Room, Jefferson City lobbyist Jim Foley helps his 6-year-old son, Sean, manage a hot dog. Around them swarm state Reps. Carl Bearden and Tom Dempsey, St. Louis County Council member Kathleen Burkett, St. Louis County Executive Charlie Dooley and former Blues star and current announcer Bernie Federko and his wife, Bernadette.
The suite life includes a buffet of chicken tenders, hot dogs and brats, shrimp cocktail and cheesecake. A bartender serves beer and soda. Inside the suite, you could be at a party in someone’s Cardinals-themed rathskeller. The glass is so thick, you can hardly hear what’s happening on the field. Outside, the seats remind you that you’re at the ballpark with the masses.
The game starts, but the movers and shakers are still shaking hands, making deals or small talk. Lobbyist John Bardgett Jr. says that he’s invited about 25 lawmakers, “all of whom paid for their own tickets.”
2nd Inning: Bird's-Eye View
Section 451, Row 9
Walking up, up, up, on concrete walkways and narrow iron staircases, you find the kind of fans who used to camp out but now park themselves on the Internet for hours at a time to buy tickets.
The seats are directly behind home plate, above the “I” in the giant Bud Light sign that covers the press box, three rows from the top. The view is spectacular. The Old Courthouse sits nobly among the skyscrapers, and the Arch gracefully lords over all. The field seems closer than it did from the upper deck at the old Busch Stadium. When the Brewers’ Bill Hall hits the ball straight away to center field, you can tell immediately that it’s going out: 2-0, bad guys. The guy in the next seat confides that he’s just plunked down $25 for two jumbo hot dogs and two large beers.
The scoreboard is sensory overload, from the crisp, clear video screen to the signage—too much signage. You look around for the old familiar graphics and realize that it’s going to take some time to figure out where you’re going to gauge season averages, how you’re going to check on the Cubs—even what time it is.
3rd Inning: Ain't No Section High Enough
Section 428, Row 12
The highest point of the stadium is probably the hottest point of the stadium as the afternoon sun bears down. This section overlooks right field and has already become something of a tourist spot, with fans trekking up the iron steps to look out over downtown.
That’s just where you’re looking when Albert Pujols comes to the plate. He takes a first-pitch swing, and just like that the ball is gone, over the left-field bleachers and into the middle of what looks like a melée.
“Where’d he hit that?” A fan points out to left field, where beyond the bleachers there seems to be a bit of activity. The natives of this section already seem resigned to non ticket-holders there for the view.
“You just missed a couple of Sherpas,” an older gentleman deadpans.
4th Inning: Mother's Day Out
The Coca-Cola Scoreboard Patio
Just try to get in here without a ticket. Two nice ushers block the entrance, and as one is shaking his head “no” to a media request for entrance, the other one is waving you through. It’s hot, so most ticket-buying patrons have taken refuge under the roof near the buffet table, where the price includes brats, nachos, chicken fingers and beverages. Fans in this section sit in seats with metal tables in between, so you can pretend you’re having a picnic while a Major League Baseball game takes place.
Cathy Rozell of Chesterfield is attending the game with her daughter, Meghan, for a mother-daughter Opening Day. “My dad gave up his seat so we could go together,” Meghan says. “Baseball is a tradition with the women in our family.” Outside the stadium, the Rozells have a brick called “The Girls of Summer,” commemorating four generations of Cardinals fans.
“My mother, Betty McLanahan, was a huge Cardinals fan, and she got it from her mother, Bertha Block,” Cathy explains. “We love the Cardinals.”
They love the Cardinals even more when Scott Rolen doubles to left and the team takes the lead, 4-2.
5th Inning: Pen Station
Section 589, Row 11
The ticket says Row 11, but the seats are in the front row of the left-field bleachers. Ethan Klutenkamper, 12, of Crestwood and his brother, Joel, 9, sit in Row 11, gloves at the ready. Five rows back, their mom and her fiancée keep watch.
In keeping with the raucous tradition of the left-field bleachers at Busch II, a rowdy group tries to resurrect the “Right Field Sucks” cheer from the old stadium, and Joel is told to cover his ears. Ethan just grins. But the right-field bleachers seem so far away that the cheer fades. A tradition from the old stadium has fallen by the wayside.
Here, you’re so close you can see centerfielder Jim Edmonds signaling to the other outfielders. When he makes a diving catch, does a somersault and lands on his feet with the ball still in his glove, you know why he’s a Gold Glove outfielder: He was moving into position as the pitch was being thrown.
In the bullpen below the wall, a Brewers pitcher warms up. “I bet if you guys ask politely, after the game they’ll probably throw you a ball,” Joel is told.
“I don’t want a Brewers ball,” he retorts. “That’s gross.”
6th Inning: Dude, We're Talking Masters
Center Field Party Plaza
There’s a game going on? You don’t know it back here, until you hear the occasional roar erupting from the crowd. It’s a party, a bona fide let-it-all-out twist-and-shout party. Even if you wanted to see the game, fans are standing three, four and five deep to watch the game, so most patrons seem to have adopted a “why bother?” attitude and are simply here for the party.
Over on the right-field side, the atmosphere is still festive, but the fans standing around seem more into the game. One of the standing-room squatters has struck up a conversation with a guy in the last row of the bleachers. “Dude, you’re cut off from baseball,” his friend admonishes him. “You can’t be talking golf at a Cardinals game.”
“Dude, we’re talking Masters,” he responds.
7th Inning: Boxed In
Section 163, Row 22
They call them field boxes, but, on Opening Day, two sisters from Godfrey, Ill., Suzanne Schwartz and Missy Gibson, along with their friend Rob Holtz, remain undecided about whether they like the new ballpark—or their seats. All agree that the seats seem cramped and smaller, and because they’re on the aisle and the entire aisle has only one way out, they’ve been up and down all game long.
“It’ll take some getting used to,” Gibson sighs as they stand yet again to sing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” “I liked our old seats better, but this view is really something.” When Cardinals pitcher Mark Mulder hits a rare home run, the entire section is on its feet yet again as fireworks explode behind center field. The fans don’t let up until Mulder emerges from the dugout for the fi rst curtain call of the year. The trio stands yet again to cheer.
8th Inning: Sweet 15
Section 157, Row 13
Ellen Drazen of South County is celebrating her 15th birthday today, and she’s decided to spend the big day with 41,936 of her friends. Her dad has taken her out of school to attend Opening Day. She sits in the padded seats of Section 157, on the third-base side, loving every minute of it. “I can’t believe how close we are,” she exults. “When the players were introduced, you had a great view.”
A freshman at Cor Jesu Academy, Ellen left school about noon; she says she’s missing classes in French and composition. “But I’m not the only one here,” she adds. “I saw one of our nuns, Sister Maureen Fitzgerald, up on the scoreboard. She’s playing hooky, too.”
9th Inning: Close Encounter
Section 150, Row 5
Finally you’re close. Close enough to hear the umpire clear his throat. Close enough to hear the ball land in catcher Yadier Molina’s glove. Close enough to feel the groan resound through the crowd when the Cardinals give up two runs, close enough to hear catcalls when Jason Isringhausen comes in to get the fi nal out and close enough to see Izzy swagger as he walks to the mound.
Fans are remembering Isringhausen’s meltdown against the Cubs the night before. A beach ball floats down from the upper deck, and a fan yells, “That’s what the ball looks like when Izzy pitches.” It’s Opening Day, and already the standards are high in Cardinal Nation. But Izzy is unfazed, and when the final out is recorded and the W is secured, the crowd roars its approval.
After the Game
Truth be told, we wanted to hate the place, but, like your widowed dad’s new wife, it’s just so darn nice. The Cardinals victory, opiate for the red-clad masses, didn’t hurt. Fans file out as the sun sets on downtown, clutching scorecards, souvenirs and an Opening Day authentication certificate. It’s not perfect, this new Busch Stadium. The seats seem smaller; the ads loom larger; tickets and food prices are higher. Sightlines in some sections are undesirable, and patrons in the first rows of the upper decks must contort their necks to see the play through the safety bars.
But for the couple from Kincaid who drove 100 miles for his 50th opener and the kids from Crestwood taking the afternoon off from school and the sisters from Godfrey and the dudes behind the bleachers, Busch III has started to feel like home.
