Veterans Stadium

When I was a kid, I carried my mitt to the 700 level of Veterans Stadium and sat on the edge of my seat for every pitch, waiting for a long ball to be hit to me. Right to me. Though it would have been the longest of long shots, I never doubted that "The Bull," Greg Luzinski, could reach me. Or that Mike Schmidt could power one my way. I always believed. And when the "Tugger" pitched the ball that made the Phillies world champions in my lifetime, I was a high school girl, but still in love with the game and its players.

Back when Veterans Stadium was more than a memory, shortly before 3,000 pounds of explosives reduced it to a heap of twisted steel and smashed concrete, the arena's caretakers carefully carved up its vital parts. Out came the lights, seats, turf, outfield wall, infield dirt, electronic scoreboard, and on and on. Now bits of the Vet, where the Phillies and Eagles played for more than three decades, can be found where the thwack of a Little League baseball, the thump of an amateur soccer ball, the gurrrr of a high school football tackle are heard.

SOMEWHERE NEAR SECOND BASE, workers attend to the drainage system at Veterans Stadium. The Trinity Paving Co. is digging up the old artificial turf to install a new one.

Phillies manager Terry Francona autographs a baseball for Ray Felix during a Chamber of Commerce luncheon at the Wyndham Franklin Plaza Hotel. The 4-4 Phils were idle yesterday. They host the Braves tonight at Veterans Stadium.

Mayor Goode shows his winning form with a football as senior city officials beat the Philadelphia Naval Base, 38-0, in a 20-minute touch-football game yesterday at Veterans Stadium. The players took the field to promote the Army- Navy game on Dec. 5 at the Vet.

Fourth grader Derek Gallo stands out by not standing out among taller students in the Upper Darby School District's "Mega Band," estimated to have 900 members, at Veterans Stadium. On Tuesday, the band played a pre-game show before the Phillies took on the Padres. District officials said they thought the band set a record as the Vet's largest musical ensemble. No records exist.

THE LAST GAME has been played and the tributes have been paid. Soon the concrete bowl in South Philadelphia - the latest in stadium fashions 32 years ago - will disappear from sight, if not from memory. Few are sorry to see it go. Veterans Stadium was a hard place to get excited about. But when all is said and done - and just about all has - there is this epitaph: If all you were interested in was seeing a baseball game, Veterans Stadium was a pretty good place to watch one. The sight lines were good.

Chicago Bears quarterback Cade McNown blamed the notorious artificial turf at Veterans Stadium for the separated left (throwing) shoulder he suffered in yesterday's loss to the Eagles. McNown, driven into the turf by Eagles linebacker Mike Caldwell, could be out a month or more. "I think a lot of it, to be honest, had to do with how hard the surface I landed on was," McNown said. "I haven't played on that hard of a surface. The field as hard as it is, you go down and it's like concrete.

During Veterans Stadium's final season, The Inquirer will look back weekly at memorable Phillies moments. If you win, they will come. For the most part, the Phillies' attendance during their 33 seasons at Veterans Stadium has been predictable: Highly successful seasons have produced highly successful ticket sales. The 1993 team, which stunned the baseball world by reaching the World Series with a cast of castoffs, set the Vet attendance record by drawing 3,137,674 fans - an increase of more than 1.2 million from 1992, when the Phillies finished last.

When Jim Thome first walked onto the field at Citizens Bank Park, he had a sensation akin to that of a very hungry man entering a bakery and picking up the scent of a buttercream layer cake. Something was in the air, and he knew he was going to like it. Thome, who hit 47 home runs in 2003, the Phillies' last year at the Vet, still remembers that first batting practice, on April 3, 2004, as the ball club prepared to open its brand-new stadium with an exhibition game. "The ball carried really well," Thome recalled on a June visit with his current team, the Chicago White Sox. Really well.

Sports fans getting agitated about the Phillies' parking situation probably can safely return to getting agitated about the hitting and pitching situations. Yes, it is taking the Phillies significantly longer than promised to convert the Veterans Stadium demolition site into parking for Citizens Bank Park. Still, the team says there are more parking spaces around the sports complex than ever. That number, they say, is close to 20,000. Team officials said yesterday that, if the weather cooperates, the muddy land at the northeast corner of Broad Street and Pattison Avenue should be "parkable," if not fully paved, by opening day on April 4. That would bring on line 2,000 more spaces.

Back when Veterans Stadium was more than a memory, shortly before 3,000 pounds of explosives reduced it to a heap of twisted steel and smashed concrete, the arena's caretakers carefully carved up its vital parts. Out came the lights, seats, turf, outfield wall, infield dirt, electronic scoreboard, and on and on. Now bits of the Vet, where the Phillies and Eagles played for more than three decades, can be found where the thwack of a Little League baseball, the thump of an amateur soccer ball, the gurrrr of a high school football tackle are heard.

All that remains of Veterans Stadium, where the Phillies and Eagles played for more than three decades, is a vast pit ringed by shattered concrete and mangled steel. On the edge of the pit, a ticket window remains in one spot, strangely untouched. In other places, stumps of the outer pillars yet stand, some erect, others leaning inward. Elsewhere, there is nothing to suggest that once there was a 62,000-seat sports arena at Broad Street and Pattison Avenue. Precisely at 7 a.m. yesterday, the Vet was imploded.

Pradeep Patel wants it understood that everyone was happy with Veterans Stadium for the first 10 years. "It was the crown jewel of Philadelphia," says Patel, who has more than a passing interest in the stadium that is set to collapse like pickup sticks in an implosion 7 a.m. tomorrow. And while there will surely be hurrahs as the 33-year-old former home of the Phillies and Eagles tumbles into rubble, no cheers will come from him. "It will be difficult for me emotionally," he admits.

Inside, nearly three months after the final pitch, Veterans Stadium doesn't look that much different than it ever did. The artificial turf remains, as do the huge video screen and main scoreboard high in the seats beyond center field. But 60,000 seats are gone, as are most of the aluminum railings in the seating area. Gone, too, are the outfield fence, the dugout benches, and all the decorative touches that gave the place what personality it had. Outside, the oversize statue of a sliding baserunner and an infielder was removed yesterday, to be held in storage for the next year.

When I was a kid, I carried my mitt to the 700 level of Veterans Stadium and sat on the edge of my seat for every pitch, waiting for a long ball to be hit to me. Right to me. Though it would have been the longest of long shots, I never doubted that "The Bull," Greg Luzinski, could reach me. Or that Mike Schmidt could power one my way. I always believed. And when the "Tugger" pitched the ball that made the Phillies world champions in my lifetime, I was a high school girl, but still in love with the game and its players.

Now that the Phillies' 2003 season has ended and Veterans Stadium has become another cherished relic, I am reminded of the day when my husband, my three sons and I sat in the upper deck and witnessed the ballpark's opening game. It was Saturday afternoon, April 10, 1971, and the temperature was in the low 40s. But my kids were impervious to the cold because they were part of history, and were fans enough to realize it. David, 14, and Kevin, 12, were Little League veterans, while 8-year-old Chris was actively involved in the program.

THE LAST GAME has been played and the tributes have been paid. Soon the concrete bowl in South Philadelphia - the latest in stadium fashions 32 years ago - will disappear from sight, if not from memory. Few are sorry to see it go. Veterans Stadium was a hard place to get excited about. But when all is said and done - and just about all has - there is this epitaph: If all you were interested in was seeing a baseball game, Veterans Stadium was a pretty good place to watch one. The sight lines were good.

If anybody couldn't wait to leave Veterans Stadium yesterday, it had to be Pat Burrell. He had his reasons. He had just completed a dismal season in which he hit .209 with 21 home runs and 64 RBIs. In 522 at-bats, Burrell walked 72 times and struck out 142 times. Compare that with last season, when Burrell hit .282 with 37 homers and 116 RBIs, 89 walks and 153 strikeouts in 586 at-bats. Burrell, who signed a six-year, $50 million contract in the off-season, had been benched several times throughout the year, including during several meaningful games in the final weeks of the season.