I arrived at the stadium to find a makeshift memorial already set up out in front of the home plate entrance. There were people adding signs, laying flowers, and signing papers to say good bye. Even more just stood around and simply watched, remembering. I signed the poster, and took in the tributes, and snapped some pictures.
 |
| Nikon D5000 f/3.5 1/400s ISO:200 |
There were several people around. Fans, reporters, camera men, police, homeless, and musicians all occupied the broad street in front of the stadium. There was no trouble, no fighting in line, just a quiet understanding that this was not the time to make things interesting. There was some smattering of conversation going on, a few jokes being told, but mostly people were thinking of Dave, and where they were, and how this magical place influenced them. We all waited together to go into the stadium to say good bye.
 |
| Nikon D5000 f/4.5 1/160s ISO:200 |
When the gates finally opened, we all filed into the entrance hall and made our way to the field. We were met by a banner which had been erected over the entrance to the lower terrace that showed exactly why we were all coming together in one place.
 |
| Nikon D5000 f/5.0 1/6s ISO:200 |
The atmosphere inside the field was very respectful. Typically, the halls are filled with fans running from seat to concessions and back while a game was being played on field. Today we all walked in line to have our chance of going onto the field to see the memorial and sign books which were laid out on tables waiting for us to express our loss.
 |
| Nikon D5000 f/4.2 1/20s ISO:200 |
Along the way, we passed posters with Dave's quotes printed on them and photos of the great broadcaster doing the thing he loved the most. The loud speakers played musical selections from famous Baseball movies such as "A Field of Dreams" and "Angels in the Outfield". Along with the music were some of Dave's most famous audio clips. When Griffey rounded 3rd in the last game of the divisional playoffs against the Yankees in 1995, when Ichiro broke the single season hits record, when Gaylord Perry got his 300th win, when the Mariners won their 116th game in 2001, and when he accepted his Hall of Fame award for broadcasting. This was probably the most touching part of the walk. It was one of those special moments when everyone knew what was happening and why it was important. I think Dave would have enjoyed himself.
 | |
| Nikon D5000 f/3.8 1/20s ISO:200 |
As we walked onto the field, we passed from under the short ceiling of the concourse and into the home plate seats. The field opened up to us as only SafeCo could, but it seemed sad. The lights were low and the roof was closed. It was at this point when I started thinking of how much of an impact Dave had on the game. Whenever I recall Ichiro putting a bunt between the pitcher and the third baseman and beating the throw by a mile, or when Felix struck out yet another batter, it was his voice which was playing in my head. Just as it was over the radio or television, so it shall forever sound in my head when I watch the game. When on the field, I looked up to the broadcaster's box up behind home plate, and saw a jersey hanging there with the number 77 on it, right under the name Niehaus. The shadow of a microphone rested on the jersey waiting for him to make one last call which never came.
 |
| Nikon D5000 f/5.6 1/125s ISO:400 |
As I approached the memorial, I remembered all the times I had spent at the field having the time of my life. I thought how funny it was that my favorite times associated with baseball were without Dave's voice. He always encouraged people to come out to the field and have fun. "[and] to some, it is a field of dreams." That was one of his favorite lines. The table with the memorial included some of the several awards he received over his career, a few photos, some flowers, and his scorecard from the very first Mariners game. It was a special time to be close to the man one last time before moving back off the field. Many people took their time to take photos and read the memorial, but no one in line minded too much. We all knew we needed to say good bye, and we wanted to do it right.
 | ||
| Nikon D5000 f/3.5 1/50s ISO:800 |
We then moved up back into the field to get a treat. A real Grand Salami sandwich. I hate rye bread unless it's fresh, but I didn't care. I wanted a sandwich, on which I of course put mustard. I then proceeded to drink more than my fair share from the water fountain after having said sandwich. It was very dry despite the mustard and tomato.
 |
| Nikon D5000 f/4.8 1/30s ISO:400 |
After my snack, I spent some time just sitting in the stands with the thousands of other who showed up. Most were still standing in line, but I wanted to stay as long as possible after viewing the memorial. I sat, I thought, I remembered, I cried, and I took photos. Sometime during all of this, Dave's partner Rick Rizzs walked out onto the field to say thanks to all of use who came out to say good bye. I didn't manage to get back on the field to shake is hand, but I did take his picture.
 |
| Nikon D5000 f/5.6 1/30s ISO:800 |
Soon after, I left. I had said my good byes and I could now move on, until April, when the first sound I hear will no longer be Dave's excited voice. I'm sure I will feel sad again on that day, but then I'll remember that Dave will not have wanted any of us to be sad, but to enjoy the excitement that is the beginning of the baseball season. Though his voice will never again broadcast a game, his influence will always be felt in Seattle. Whenever Ichiro comes up to bat, whenever someone makes a fantastic catch, whenever a ball flies away, whenever a ball with mustard and salami leaves the yard, we will all lean back and think to ourselves "My Oh My".
All photos can be found at: http://picasaweb.google.com/SqojoSmiley/DaveNiehausMemorial#
No comments:
Post a Comment