Armchair Talking Head


Bigger and Newer: Is it Always Better?

I damn near cried the first time I went to St. Louis and saw the giant hole that used to be Busch Memorial Stadium. I went to my first Cards game with my Dad there. I learned that it was okay to love a baseball team like a woman there–you have your ups and downs, but you still lover her, dammit. My emotions were similar the first time my Dad and I set foot in New Busch Stadium where a whole slew of new memories have been made, none to top sitting on the first base line with Dad as the Budweiser Clydesdales galloped around the warning track with the 2006 World Series trohpy on opening day. As cool as new Busch Stadium is, something about me misses the old arches atop the old park. I liked the idea of watching Albert Pujols play at the same place my old man watched Bob Gibson hurl the ball. Progress is all good and well, and the topic of old baseball parks and the new-fangled “baseball parks” that focus on fan experience instead of baseball is an entirely different topic.

Credit: Crassic

I had a somewhat similar feeling as I drove down Bryant Drive today for the first time since it had opened post-South Endzone construction. It’s beautiful. It’s worth every penny spent on it. I oohed. I ahhed. I almost rear-ended a sorority girl back a week early for Rush in the BMW her daddy bought her because I was staring out the side window of my beaten down Chevy. A marvel of football, modern engineering, and a testament to the thousands of Alabama boys who have worn the Crimson and White on Saturdays in the fall sits between University Blvd. and Bryant Drive for sure, but I had a different reaction as I turned north on Wallace Wade Avenue.  Just as that street is named for a coach of old (Wade won 3 National Championships at Alabama from 1923-1930), the western side of Bryant-Denny tells a different story. Exposed beams, old but sturdy bricks dominate the view. You can see inside the stadium to an extent, and on game weeks you can often see the inner workings of getting the stadium ready for the 100K plus fans that will fill the seats that weekend. I kind of miss the ability to take a glimpse into the stadium, and the old feeling the stadium used to have. That oldness spoke to the tradition that so many Alabama fans love to talk about. I often wonder as I stand at the urinals tucked under the seats of the student section staring at the wood bolted to concrete and steel keeping us in our seats if the men who built the stadium in the 1920’s, or even people who have worked on it in the years in between, ever imagined the behemoth it has become.

In the changing, fast-paced, dog-eat-dog world of today’s college football, bigger and newer might mean more talented recruits, more fans, and more money. In fact, it might even play a part in the success of the team on the field, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. I do like it, and I welcome progress, but  a little part of me hopes they never cover up the older parts of the stadium.



Top Ten Things I’ll Miss About Tuscaloosa: #5. Tailgating

This is part of a series of posts in which your humble, soon to graduate blogger will wax poetic on the things that make Tuscaloosa and The University great.

Every home game in the Fall, Bammers of all shapes and sizes gather on the Quad to do what they do under plastic tents. Some are family friendly, others not so much, but they all seem to get along harmoniously. It’s not like I won’t return to our tailgate over by Toumey Hall, but it just won’t be an every game day event. Honestly, tailgating with the group of people that I have for the past three years is what turned me, unexpectedly, into a Bama fan. The hospitality shown to a Tennessee fan in Alabama was uncanny. Who says you can kill your enemies with kindness, eh?

Held together by a love for beer and football, the Rubes as our group dubs itself, is Alabama football. We’re Alums and students, people who never set foot in a classroom, friends from home, friends we’ve made strictly from tailgating, and even Auburn fans.

If I end up in Birmingham in the Fall, knowing that a helluva throwdown is going on a mere 45 minutes away in God’s Country will be a bit disheartening. If I end up in Oxford, the tailgating is there, but I’ve played that show for a year and it just isn’t the same. I love the Grove in its own little way, but it is what it is. At the end of the day I’ll take my group of ruffians on the Quad.