The Crowds at Shibe Park

The Vet

Like your first apartment infested with west philly mice-rats. Or the rusty, old, barnacle-trimmed, hand-me-down that is your first car. So was Veteran Stadium, the Vet. It was ugly. Players hated it for its concrete/astroturf. What always mystified me most was the outfield wall. Beyond the green fence was the front wall of the bleachers covered with a black plastic tarp, closely resembling those black Hefty trash bags. Instead of seeing homeruns flying over the ivy-lined fence of Wrigley Field, I grew up watching the baseball landing into the trash bag outfield of the Vet.

Sure, Citizens Bank Park, its successor as home of the Philadelphia Phillies, is nice. Who wouldn't like seats with good sightlines, concession stands that allow you to watch the game while you get your dollar dogs, or the outfield stands that breathes and allows a pleasant view of the city skyline.

But I do miss the Vet. My first game was in 1990. My dad got us box seats for free through his job. Of course the Phillies lost, but in a fairly close match to the mighty Pittsburgh Pirates at the time. My only memory of the game was the homerun by Phillies' Von Hayes to the right field trash bag.

The Phillies finished last that year, or close to it. This pattern would continue for most of my childhood. Surprisingly, losing is contagious, as demonstrated by the other pro-sports team of this city. In my lifetime, there have been no championships, no parades down Broad Street. Every few years there are moments of hope. Philadelphians rally together, adorning team-related hats, t-shirts, and jerseys. Septa buses get in on the act too. Even William Penn gets new accessories.

Shibe Park, 1913

And then there are the real fans who give Philadelphia sports its passion, its reputation. These are the fans that sat through the many losing seasons in the 700-Level of the old Vet. From this section came the jeers and, more often, the boos that typifies a home game in Philadelphia. From here, snowballs were hurled at Santa Claus one frustrating afternoon. From here, a D-sized battery was thrown at an opposing player that had disrespected the city. It was here that "nose-bleed" seats came to mean a different thing if you happened to wore a Dallas jersey. It is for this phanaticism that a court had to be established in the Vet to instate order.

The picture above is from opening day at Shibe Park, which would become Connie Mack Stadium, the home of the Philadelphia Phillies and Eagles before the Vet. Here was the predecessor to the 700-level. Fans packed in wherever they could, sitting perilously on the walls of the stadium and up onto the outfield scoreboard. I wonder if there were any boos that day as the dominant baseball team was the Philadelphia Athletics, who were very successful and popular, winning many world championships in the first half of the 20th century. The boos would surely come later, in parallel with ten thousand losses and a city in post-industrial decline, a frustrated city looking for a winner.

By STANLEY MCMUMBLESOME