To Build a New County Heritage, It’s Right in the Ballpark

I have seen the future, and it’s 347 feet down the left-field line, 350 to right and 415 to straightaway center.

It’s a view of the downtown skyline from the concourse behind home plate and of the Rocky Mountains over the outfield wall.

It’s 2,100 seats in the “Rockpile” that will go on sale every day for a dollar each.

I’m talking about Coors Field, the new baseball park in Denver, but if you think it’s irrelevant to Orange County, you just whiffed.

Rest assured that Angel executives are well aware of Coors Field. They’re also painfully aware their Angels play in the midst of an affluent metropolis of 2.4 million people, with perfect weather every day, and yet can’t get 25,000 people to a ballgame.

Meanwhile, Denver people are saying straight-faced that they expect Coors Field, which will seat 50,000, to be sold out every game for at least the first two years of its existence. Those are the kind of numbers baseball executives love.

So, yes, the Angels know all about Coors Field. That’s why they want one of their own.

Tom Gleason is a former aide to presidential candidate Gary Hart, but now is deputy director of something called the Denver Metropolitan Major League Stadium Baseball District. While I vacationed in Denver the last couple weeks, Gleason gave me a tour of the still-under-construction ballpark in lower downtown Denver.

Assuming the current strike doesn’t kill baseball forever, Denver played into the wave of baseball nostalgia with its new park. From the outside, it reminds people of old Ebbets Field in Brooklyn. Inside, foul territory will be small, giving spectators a feeling of being on top of the action. And, with only 4,600 available public parking spots on the site, people will be encouraged to take public transportation and walk to the park.

In short, going to the ballgame will be an experience that going to Anaheim Stadium isn’t.

“This location and design have some magic together,” Gleason said. “It’s like the old-time ballparks that were shoe-horned into existing neighborhoods. It’s a ballpark that looks like it could have been there for a hundred years. If you put this same thing in the vast expanses of the south part of the (Denver) metro area, you wouldn’t have the same reaction. It’s probably an emotional thing as much as anything. I wouldn’t say it’s the same as building a basketball arena or hockey arena or even a football stadium. There’s a trend toward nostalgia in baseball.”

Gleason acknowledged that some “financial consulting” people from Orange County have talked to him “within the last month or two” about the financing for Coors Field. He would only say the consultants weren’t representing either the Angels or the city of Anaheim.

OK, so Coors Field is everything Anaheim Stadium is not. The question is, can Orange County build a new ballpark that will capture fans’ interest?

Earl Santee is a senior vice president of HOK Sports in Kansas City, the architectural firm that designed Coors Field, as well as new ballparks in Baltimore, Chicago and Cleveland.

“We had a lot to learn on those projects,” he said by telephone from company offices Tuesday, “but what we essentially learned was that places like Ebbets Field and Shibe Park (in Philadelphia) became symbols and icons for baseball in their communities. Through our working with the Orioles and White Sox and Indians and Rockies, we found that each of them were in search of something like that, a symbol of the team and city and community that they could package in such a fashion to cause them to believe it was theirs, that they owned it.”

That would seem to be the $64,000 question for Orange County. We joke about the lack of heritage in newly emerging metropolises like Orange County, but it’s no laughing matter when it potentially factors in to the success of a ballpark.

As for Orange County, Santee talked in generalities about “controlling your own destiny.” He said his company tries “to create districts where, once you’ve arrived within six to eight blocks, you’re in the ballpark district. That might mean you do something different in Southern California that represents that, and it doesn’t mean you have to have a red-brick building, but the image and identity make it clear that you’ve arrived at the site.”

I’m in the camp that’s convinced an intimate new ballpark in Orange County would be a smashing success, even with the crummy team the Angels have been fielding. A baseball park should include aesthetic pleasures (See: Dodger Stadium) that a football stadium doesn’t have to worry about.

So, yes, let’s build the Angels a new park. Let’s give it Orange County’s own signature.

Which leads to that perplexing first hurdle:

Um, exactly what does our signature look like?

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, Calif. 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.