BROOKLYN, N.Y. -- The unmistakable smell of Nathan's Famous hot dogs
wafts across the emerald baseball diamond and Frank Sinatra croons through
the public address system.
|  | | A parade to the stadium marked Monday's debut, and served as a reminder of the way things used to be in Coney Island. |
Down the left field line you can see the Cyclone, the old, statuesque Coney Island wooden roller coaster; the screams and the rattle reach all the way to home plate. Out past center field is the sparkling Atlantic Ocean and the bustling boardwalk. Down the right-field line, the faded cherry-colored parachute jump looms. The joint is packed,
and primed for the daily miracles that baseball bestows on its faithful.
It feels and looks, in so many respects, like 1957. That was when the
Brooklyn Dodgers still played at Ebbets Field, the year the first Civil
Rights bill protecting blacks was created, and when Jack Kerouac published "On
the Road. "
But of course, today we live in another time, another millennium
altogether. And yet, for one night, for a fleeting moment, it was
1957.
For the first time in 43 years and one day shy of nine months -- the
Brooklyn Dodgers' last game (Sept. 26, 1957) -- a professional baseball game was played in this beleaguered borough of New York City. And what an opener it was.
Training by two going into the ninth, the Cyclones got a two-out homer to tie it, then scored on a sacrifice fly in the 10th to win 3-2.
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I've taken my four boys to the Mets' games for years. I see the Mets and I call out the names of the old Dodgers. That's all I see is the Campanellas and the Sniders. My kids laugh at me; I don't know half of the Mets' names. ” |
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— Brooklyn Dodgers fan James Breen |
The swollen, sellout crowd of 6,500 at KeySpan Park on Monday night
didn't seem to care that it was the Brooklyn Cyclones, the New York Mets' Class-A
affiliate, versus the Mahoning Valley Scrappers.
One of those fans was Joe Pignatano. He was born five minutes from the
ballpark, at West 15th Street and Avenue Z some 71 years ago. He lives today
in Bayside, N.Y., all of 10 minutes away. In 1957, he was a rookie catcher
for the Brooklyn Dodgers, playing behind Roy Campanella, which meant he only
played in eight games that season and managed three hits in 14 at-bats.
"But, hey, I was there," he said proudly Monday night. "I enjoyed every
minute."
Pignatano came full circle in his brief career. After playing three
more seasons for the Dodgers in Los Angeles, he played the with Kansas City
Athletics, San Francisco Giants and, finally, in 1962 with the fledgling
Mets -- the team that Brooklyn came to follow, but not embrace like they did
their late, lamented Dodgers.
Pignatano has given into modern technology. He
was clutching his cell phone on the field before the game and there was a
paunch encroaching on his belted khakis, but he remains old-school Brooklyn
baseball, 100 percent. You can hear it in his delivery. Kids, he said, need
to learn the game.
Later, he was asked by a rabid reporter if Class-A ball was a slap in
the face for Brooklyn.
"Baseball," he said, pausing for effect, "is baseball. I got a
13-year-old grandson and I enjoy watching his games. This is great. I feel
like baseball belongs here."
Jackie, Pee Wee and the Duke
Three hours before the game, James Breen was acting, well, like a kid.
He was born in 1930, but this is a day he has been waiting for -- and waiting
for.
"My home team is back," he said, with feeling.
Breen remembers the day Jackie Robinson stole home against Joe
Blackwell, the big left-hander for Cincinnati.
"Man, was he fast," Breen said. "But, of course, the wind blew the sand
-- and that helped."
He remembers paying 55 cents for box seats at Ebbets Field. He
remembers Duke Snider, Pee Wee Reese, Gil Hodges and Don Zimmer. In fact, he
still sees those Dodgers today.
"I've taken my four boys to the Mets' games for years," Breen said. "I
see the Mets and I call out the names of the old Dodgers. That's all I see
is the Campanellas and the Sniders. My kids laugh at me; I don't know half
of the Mets' names.
"It's funny. I can't remember things that happened two days ago, but I
can remember those teams like it was yesterday."
To this day, Breen hates the San Francisco Giants, who themselves defected across the country with the Dodgers, and the New York Yankees. Add the
Mets to the list.
"Now that we got this place built," Breen said, "forget about the
Mets. How's that for an unholy trio?"
Baseball never lost its hold over Brooklyn if the fans at KeySpan Park
are any indication. Take Carlton Gilmore. He was born in 1944, which makes
him a 12-year-old in the summer of 1957. How much did he love the Brooklyn
Dodgers? He was willing to miss school to watch them.
"That's right," he said, laughing. "I played hookey all the time.
That was just when I was getting into baseball. And then they up and moved.
That was painful to me. You're a kid, and they take away your baseball team.
"What kind of deal is that?"
A raw one, to be sure.
Count Myles Seitz as one of the terminally afflicted. He was Brooklyn
born and raised and a tender 20 when owner Walter O'Malley pulled the plug
in early 1958.
"Total devastation," Seitz said. "I went to hundreds of games between
the ages of nine and 20 -- hundreds of games. I saw Gil Hodges hit four home
runs and a single against the Braves at the end of August in 1950. Fantastic
performance. Oh yeah, we beat the Braves, 19-3 that day."
Seitz attended the first playoff game between the Dodgers and Giants in
1951 in person, but wasn't so lucky for the decidedly famous final game that
propelled the Giants into the World Series. He was in school at Junior High
School No. 147 on Sutter Avenue in Brooklyn, listening to the game over the
school's P.A. system, of all things. The minute school was let out, Seitz
dashed the 10 blocks to his home. He entered the front door just as Ralph
Branca entered the game to pitch to Bobby Thompson.
"Yeah," said Seitz of Thompson's legendary home run, "I heard it. I
still hear it in my sleep."
Return to glory
On Monday, it was like a holiday in Brooklyn. There was a big brass band
and a parade down Surf Avenue. The politicians, as usual, fell all over
themselves in self-congratulation.
"It's great to have baseball back in Brooklyn where it belongs," said
New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani. "And it's even greater to have it where Coney
Island was one of the most famous amusement parks in the world. With the building
of this park, we hope it will become the center of the universe again."
In fact, the building of KeySpan Park is a miracle of sorts, considering
that it was built in New York, where politics remains a feudal enterprise.
It was driven by Fred Wilpon, who co-owns the Mets' major-league franchise,
and whose first apartment was in Brooklyn. His son, Jeff, who runs the
Cyclones team, was born in Brooklyn. KeySpan cost $39 million and, as of
Monday, there were still finishing touches in progress.
The Cyclones are heavily stocked with Mets -- and not just on the field.
The manager is Edgar Alfonzo, the older brother of the Mets' Edgardo. The
pitching coach is former Mets hurler Bobby Ojeda, and the hitting coach is
Howard Johnson.
"Everybody has been talking about how this is the first game here in 44
years," Johnson said. "We're all aware that this is a big, big deal. The
kids in the locker room? They don't get it at all. All they know is there
are going to be a lot of people here."
Cyclones outfielder Michael Piercy had been on the field for exactly
three minutes for the team's first workout last week when someone informed
him that his No. 4 once belonged to Duke Snider.
"If we don't know the history," said Piercy, who grew up in northern
New Jersey, "I'm sure we're all going to learn it."
And the fans, who have already bought 185,000 of 247,000 possible
tickets -- which guarantees 15 sellouts for 38 dates -- are going to need to
spend some time with the new home team that will play in the New York-Penn
League: There is leadoff man Angel Pagan, a center fielder from Puerto Rico,
cleanup hitter John Toner, a 6-foot-3, 210-pounder from Western Michigan and
catcher Michael Jacobs of Chula Vista, Calif.
Monday night's game was a throwback to another era. Any hitter knocking
a ball off the Garage Clothing sign in left-center will win a free suit.
Ralph Branca -- who else? -- threw out the first ball to native son Joe
Pignatano. It was a high fastball -- a strike by the new standards set for
umpires. For the record, the game's first pitch from Matthew Peterson to
Maximo Made, came at 7:20 ET and was a ball, inside and low. The next pitch
was a strike.
The game was typical A ball. There were mistakes, framed by momentary
flashes of brilliance. There was grousing about the cost of parking -- $10 a
car, despite tickets priced from $6 to $10. Hot dogs that cost 5 cents in
the 1940s were priced at a tidy $2.50.
In the stands -- temporary bleachers recently were added to accommodate
an extra 1,000 -- there were the inevitable history lessons.
Seitz, in fact, brought two of his grandchildren, Russell, 14, and
Samantha, 11, along with his wife Ilene. What about it, Samantha? Has
grandfather been imparting the glory of the great Brooklyn Dodgers?
"Oh, yeah," she said, rolling her eyes.
It could be worse.
"In my day," Seitz said, "there were no computers, no Internet, no
video games and only a little TV. Everything was baseball. Everything.
"That's why this is the most important day of my life. Listen, Brooklyn
is a major-league town. We'd be happy with whatever team we got and this is
terrific. Baseball is back in Brooklyn and the town is getting its pride
back.
"We're back on top again."
Greg Garber is a senior writer for ESPN.com.
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