Main Street Journal: On the River: The Redbird Connection

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The following article is taken from the July 2010 issue of the Main Street Journal. Click “Subscribe Online” above to start your subscription.


The Redbird Connection
By: Jonathan Lindberg
 

Four blocks from the Cannon Center, home of the Memphis Symphony, stands another eye-catching monument to the revitalization of downtown – AutoZone Park, home of the Memphis Redbirds. Both are houses of elegance and grace. Sitting in the stands on a sultry June night, the sunset against the brick and mortar of the historic YMCA rivals any extended note on a cello or the daily sunset that stretches through Arkansas, past well-worn fields and across the Mississippi.

AutoZone Park, the field and the game played on that field, are all designed to take you back, or at least remove you for a few hours from the world that is just beyond the center field wall. Baseball is a game of nostalgia, a throw-back to a different time. On this June night, Dominican born hurler Oneli Perez is pitching. He is old school. He throws hard and wears his wool socks up to his knees, white with red stripes. The kid looks like he should have played in 1933. He blends in perfectly with his surroundings.

The Memphis Redbirds happen to be the defending Pacific Coast League champions. They defeated the Sacramento River Cats 3-0 last fall. Unlike the Tigers or the Grizzlies, Memphians were not glued to their television sets awaiting victory. Fans attending Redbird games are not there because of the standings, even though the Redbirds are playing well once again. They are there to watch the rhythm of the game, a pace more akin to a Chopin concerto than a Tchaikovsky symphony. Baseball played on elegant fields ought to disconnect you from the world of Twitter and iPhones and network servers. AutoZone is all red bricks and hot dogs and wide open spaces.

It has all the charm of a clear, blue summer night.

Over the past twelve months, Memphis has seen a steady reconnection of Memphians with their city. For the first time in a long time, groups and organizations are sprouting up and announcing – we are proud to belong to our city. Memphis by choice.

It has become a lasting breath of fresh air.

What is interesting about this rebirth is that Memphians are reconnecting in different ways. The options are varied. A thrilling new exhibit at the Memphis Zoo calls us to the West. Two straight stellar seasons from the Memphis Symphony and the Orpheum have dazzled. The Tigers have excelled and the Grizzlies have awakened. Also, let us not forget the new sleek and serious Playhouse on the Square, a bridge between downtown and the East.

However, for this writer, reconnection with Memphis has taken place primarily along the first base side of AutoZone Park, fourteen rows up from the dugout. One hot dog, one coke, and nine innings in which to stretch out.

I grew up on baseball. I played it and I hoarded the cards of men who played it better than me. The game speaks to our childhood. Between innings, three kids dressed up as catsup, mustard and a pickle race along the warning track. A five-year old girl, at her very first game, dresses up as the tooth fairy. She is taken around the bases to brush them clean. There is community among the people gathered, young and old. We all stand together and cheer when Allen Craig, the Redbirds slugger from left field, smashes another home run.

Any city is only as good as its public places. Of late, our public places have shined. What AutoZone Park offers, its mouth open to the electricity of downtown, is one of those sparkling spots that is accessible to all. A place you are proud to have.

For this writer, this summer, watching twenty-three year old second baseman Daniel Descalso perfect his swing – shorter than that of a slugger but long enough to drop looping doubles between left and center field – has been a thing of beauty. Memphis is merely his port. He is bound for Saint Louis at some point. However, those doubles connect the crowd.

I must admit, it absorbs me. Never mind the kid is from California. He wears our name across his chest.
 

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