Building A Better Coliseum

        With the Oakland A’s on something of a minor run right now, they have put themselves in perfect position to campaign for a new stadium.  New owner Lewis Wolff has committed himself to making sure the A’s get a new home, as anyone would having just visited the Oakland Coliseum for the first time.  As a 17-year veteran of A’s games myself, and someone who wants only the best stadium for Oakland fans, I’ve compiled a list of issues that need to be addressed with the new ballpark.  So without further ado….        1) Build something around it.

        Currently, there is nothing to do within a 5-mile radius of the Oakland Coliseum, other than watch a sporting event.  And I don’t mean “nothing” in a too-cool-for-school way, the way a teenager thinks there’s nothing to do in his home town other than sniff glue and huff gasoline.  I mean NOTHING, in its truest sense.  Unless you’re in the market for scrap metal or a stolen stereo, there are no pre- or post-game activities to be found on Coliseum Way.  Now, the current powers-that-be have recently tried to charm up the place, building a small shopping center just a quick 45-minute walk away from the stadium on the other side of the freeway, but somehow that doesn’t quite cut it.  If you want to grab a quick bite to eat before a game, your best bet is still to search the parking lot and hope that someone lets you cop some free barbeque.

        In part due to this lack of atmosphere, going to an A’s game only feels like an event on the few nights when the Yankees or Red Sox come to town.  There is a prevailing feeling among East Bay baseball fans that going to an A’s game is nothing special, because tickets are always available- and they’re right.  The A’s new ownership at least recognizes this and is attempting to build a smaller stadium, but that will only solve part of the problem.  The stadium itself has to become a draw, much like Pac Bell has across the bay.  Something along the lines of a drawbridge and moat might work, which would be sure to inspire much stronger feelings than the current surroundings, which consist of a flea market and a dozen-odd railroad tracks that haven’t been used since Ken Macha was just a white-haired young boy.  “Pasty Ken”, they used to call him.

        2) Fix the fencing situation.

        In the days before Mt. Davis, the Oakland Coliseum used to be a great place to watch baseball.  Fans were treated to views of the Oakland hills just beyond the stadium, the bleachers consisted entirely of bench seating, and the outfield fence was perfectly symmetrical.  In short, all was right with the world.  Birds sang, children laughed, and Oakland had yet to experience its first crime, mostly because people were in such awe of the A’s outfield fence.  All that separated home plate from a home run was 330 feet in the corners, 375 feet in the gaps, and 400 in straightaway center.  It was a thing of beauty.

        But once the Raiders moved back in, all of that changed.  Taking a page straight out of Mr. Burns’ playbook, Al Davis erected a monstrous tower to block any view of the hills, and let his engineers take a protractor to the fence.  Gone was the 330-375-400-375-330 panorama, replaced by a wall that measures 330 in left field, 347 in left-center, 379 in leftish-center, 413.2 in straightaway center, 412 in moderate-to-right center, the square root of pi in right field, and a mere 212 feet at the right field foul pole.

        All of a sudden, the outfield became an eye sore, with high walls in places where there shouldn’t be high walls.  The new stadium needs to come equipped with an outfield wall that acts as a reminder of the A’s glorious aesthetic past, as well as a unique symbol of the new ballpark.  Perhaps a painting of a chalk outline with crazy hair and limbs akimbo, to honor all the times Eric Byrnes ran face-first into the Coliseum fence to misplay a double.  Or just make the fence a mirror, which would serve two purposes: not only would it become nearly impossible for outfielders to play the ball off the wall, it would also cause the fence to shatter every time a fielder ran into it, which is fun for the whole family.  Because if there’s one thing we’ve learned in the past year, it’s that every major sport needs to take a page out of hockey’s book when it comes to entertaining the fans.

        3) Move the seats closer to the field.

        Like the Banjo Man and the $29 parking spot, the spacious foul ground is an Oakland Coliseum trademark.  The overabundance of foul territory certainly has its perks, such as the occasional Eric Chavez 8k run/sliding catch or the opposing infielder who stops chasing a foul pop-up 15 feet short of the dugout because he forgets where he is.  But with two, count them two, ZIP codes separating the fans from the playing field, it diminishes much of the atmosphere.  Most A’s fans have to travel to Little League games just to get the satisfaction of knowing for sure that the player they just berated can actually hear them.  And when you have to attend a Little League game to berate a player that isn’t even your own kid, there’s just something inherently wrong.

        My suggestion is to eliminate foul territory altogether, to make up for all the years when fans on opposite sides of the Coliseum felt like they were watching different games.  Make the seats so close to the field that the base coaches have to buy a ticket.  Make the diving catch into the stands an every-inning occurrence.  Heck, build seats below the field, maybe an extra dugout on each side for those who can afford it.  My point is, without some kind of blistering cold or gale force wind to bring everyone together in a shared misery, fans in an overly large stadium have nothing to bind them as a unit.  Without this sense of community, it’s hard to establish any kind of home-field advantage, which just makes it that much harder to get in the heads of the opposing team.  That’s why they make Little League fields so small.

        4) Lower the beer prices.

        This one may sound selfish, but just hear me out.  Absolutely no one likes the beer prices at sporting events.  It’s just a fact of life.  But by the time you sign a contract in blood to park your car at the Coliseum, the last thing you want to do is pay $8 for a beer.  Even people in prison don’t have to pay $8 for a beer.  In fact, drinking at the Coliseum isn’t entirely unlike prison.  The barter system is in full effect, as you’re forced pay as much for one beer on the inside as you would for 12 on the outside, and you’re suddenly more than willing to trade prized possessions or even family members to get your hands on such a beer.  The guards in both places are mean, nasty people; I think this may have something to do with the fact that Coliseum ushers are forced to wear MUNI drivers’ hand-me-down uniforms.  And in both places, you’re never really sure when the next fight is going to break out.

        But these things are still true of most sporting events, not just A’s games.  Here’s where this becomes specific to Oakland: A’s fans are a beer-drinkin’ people.  These aren’t Giants fans or Warriors fans or any other sports fan you may be accustomed to outside of maybe the Raiders.  At any given A’s game, only two-thirds of the people in attendance are actually there to watch the game; on weekends, it’s half.  This means that on weekend afternoons, the Coliseum parking lot becomes a mini-Oktoberfest, a place where tailgates last until the 6th inning and the crowds entering the game late look like a pack of college kids searching for the nearest frat house because their kegger just got shut down by the cops.  Those fans who don’t want to miss any of the action by coming late (or those fans whose fake ID’s aren’t good enough to work inside the Coliseum) become amateur smugglers, sneaking the equivalent of a small liquor store with them into the game.  My friends and I got so good at this in high school, we were actually made honorary members of the Kennedy family.

        Of course, the A’s could offset reduced beer prices by marketing their own brand of beer bongs and brown paper bags to this crowd, but I’m sure they don’t think that’s such a good idea.  In fact, on the scale of good ideas, this probably ranks just ahead of “I Spy 2”, starring Charlie Murphy and Luke Wilson.  But still, it was worth a shot.

        5) Acknowledge the team’s history.

        Thanks in part to their perpetually young team, the A’s have a relatively young fan base.  Many of these youngsters don’t know a lot about the history of the A’s franchise, mainly because there aren’t any references to it within the stadium.  For instance, I attended an A’s game several years ago with a friend who wondered aloud why the A’s had an elephant for a mascot.  He suggested that if anything, a team from Oakland’s mascot should be a 40 and a gun.  

        Obviously, he didn’t know that for centuries, the Oakland hills protected the East Bay from invading armies, until Hannibal was finally able to scale the mighty hills on the backs of elephants.  This opened up the area to heavy trade, including a mass influx of steroids from nearby Walnut Creek, whose steroid trade was flourishing at the time.  These anabolic steroids aided the A’s teams of the late 1980’s, and eventually brought a World Series trophy to Oakland.  Without the elephants there would be no steroids, and without the steroids there would be no trophy; hence, the elephant as mascot.

        Another little-known story is the origin of the A’s white cleats.  Oakland is the only team in baseball to wear white shoes, and they wear them both at home and on the road.  This began back in the 1970’s, when catcher Ray Fosse (a big fan of the “Godfather” movies) began to dress in all white, to emulate his hero Don Fanucci.  Fosse had a persuasive personality and a commanding moustache, and was able to use both to convince owner Charlie Finley to have the team dress in all white.  Out of gratitude, Fosse agreed to become a broadcaster for the team following his retirement, and has been loyal to the team ever since.  In fact, if you pay close attention, you can still occasionally hear Fosse mention during a broadcast that a hitter needs to “wet his beak a little”.  Rumors persist that his collision with Pete Rose may have jarred something loose in Fosse.

        6) Construct a front-office throne.

        Let’s be honest: at this point, Billy Beane is more popular than any player the A’s have had during his tenure.  When Oakland traded ace starters Tim Hudson and Mark Mulder in the offseason for 6 guys no one had ever heard of, A’s fans just shrugged their shoulders and said “well, we trust Billy”.  Who else could trade 2 of the 10 best pitchers in baseball and not incite a riot?  No other front-office executive in sports is more trusted by his team’s fans- it’s only right that he’s given a proper place to sit.

        Now, in my head, I’m envisioning something along the lines of the emperor’s quarters at the old Roman Coliseum, like a deluxe outdoor luxury suite that sits 2 decks above home plate.  This way, whenever Macha goes to the mound to talk to a pitcher, Beane can stand up and give the thumps-up or thumbs-down whether to leave the pitcher in or to yank him, depending on the status of the pitcher’s WHIP against the Euro and his velocity weighted by game-time temperature.  We all know Beane’s really making these decisions himself anyway, why not make a spectacle out of it?

        7) Make it easier to get around.

        I spent what feels like half my childhood watching A’s games at the Coliseum, and even I can’t find my way around that place anymore.  I think you need to have tea with the Mad Hatter and pass the Cheshire Cat before you can find the Speed Pitch, and good luck locating the nearest concession stand that actually sells a regular hot dog.  The Giants came pretty close to nailing this one with Pac Bell, although getting into or out of their streetside dugout store requires tapping the far wall three times and saying the secret password in pig latin (hint: the password is “arry’s knee isn’t really injured-Bay”).  

        8)  Sell better stuff.

        I will never understand why it is that I can go to an A’s game and buy a t-shirt that feels like a towel for a mere $70, but I have to hold somebody hostage at knifepoint to find a Kotsay jersey.  The A’s neighbors, the always-fan friendly Warriors, had the exact opposite problem for years.  You could buy Danny Fortson jerseys to your heart’s content, but good luck finding a t-shirt that didn’t look like it was designed by a blindfolded schizophrenic chipmunk.  That is, until Rowell & Cohan realized that the throwback “trend” wasn’t going away after a mere 5 years, and that they were unwittingly sitting on the hottest throwback merchandise in the league.  Now, the college tuitions of 8 generations of future unborn Rowell/Cohan Satan spawn have already been paid for, thanks to the success of “The City”.  It’s a good thing those two are flawless when it comes to evaluating basketball talent, because they certainly aren’t the most business savvy of folk.

        One idea for the A’s is to sell future merchandise ahead of time, rather than wait around for the inevitable.  For example, why wait for Barry Zito to actually sign with the Yankees before you start selling his pinstriped jersey?  Be the first ones on the block to start selling Rich Harden Red Sox shirts and Bobby Crosby Mets bobbleheads in order to maximize your profit.  By not waiting around for these players to put their Herbie Hancocks on another team’s contract, the A’s might make enough money to actually sign one of these guys.  And once the player has re-signed, put all of his said future merchandise into the sale tent in front of the stadium with the inflatable Canseco steroid needles and Miguel Tejada baserunning videos.

        9) Build a daycare center.

        Daycare centers are popping up in the strangest places nowadays.  At the gym, in your local IKEA, even at the bar down the street- people just can’t seem to get enough of handing their kids off to complete strangers.  Well, a baseball game shouldn’t be any different.  If there are people out there who just can’t live without attending a baseball game, they should have a place to drop off young ones who don’t know how to behave in public.

        In Oakland, however, the daycare center isn’t needed for small children.  In fact, kids are probably the best-behaved people of anyone at A’s games.  No, the need for a daycare center is caused by the contingent of Raiders fans who have somehow been tricked into thinking that football is a year-round sport.  You can always count on fans who show up wearing Jeff Hostetler jerseys to talk smack about how the Raiders are better than (fill in AFC West rival), or how the Raiders are going to kick the A’s a** tonight, or how they KNOW nobody’s going to make them leave when they’ve only had 2 beers.  An easy way to solve this problem is to build a sports bar in the stadium that shows only classic Raiders games, and charge a $10 cover.  Once they’ve paid the cover and they’ve had enough beers to believe that the games being shown are live, nobody’s gonna leave that place.  And once the A’s and Raiders games are over, everyone goes home happy.  This may be the best idea on the list.

        10) Build more interactive attractions for the fans.

        Outside of throwing beer at Jason Giambi, there aren’t a whole lot of ways for A’s fans to feel like they’re part of the game.  And while the Giam-Beer Toss is an unrivaled favorite at the Coliseum, not everyone can afford to sit close enough to get within range of him.  A more democratic solution would be to build interactive playgrounds throughout the park, so that everyone can feel like they’re on the field.  For instance, instead of the fast pitch booth, maybe let Ben Grieve stand in the cage so that fans can pitch to him and induce an inning-ending  double play grounder.  Or for parents with babies, maybe a race track in which they can let their newborn infants crawl in a footrace against former A’s great Eric Karros.  While the babies race, the parents could run over to the nearby sports book to place bets on their children, who would undoubtedly be 3-to-1 favorites.

        For kids holding their birthday parties at the field, set up a “Pin the Porn Moustache on the A’s” game, where kids could try to attach a bushy ‘stache to the faces of A’s alumni Dennis Eckersley, Gene Nelson, and Stan Javier.  For those who want a memento to take home and place in a scrapbook, perhaps a few oversized boards with action photos that they can stick their heads into.  But instead of the dopey clown or cowboy bodies that you always see at the carnival, A’s fans can instead have their face planted onto Jeremy Giambi’s body as he fails to slide or pretend they’re Terrence Long watching a third consecutive strike in Game 5 of the playoffs.

        Or, you could just give away cars each Friday and bring back Carney Lansford every other week.  I guess for now, we’ll just have to settle for that.