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| - "If you built it, he will come."
He, of course, was Commissioner Bud Selig. And it was Bank One Ballpark. Like many sports executives at the time, Selig was enamored with using public money to support a battery of gleaming new stadia from coast to coast. And nowhere was the argument for better facilities stronger than in cities without a ballpark to begin with. Ten years later Chase Field stands almost as a relic of this bygone era, as strange as it sounds.
Looming over Phoenix's downtown, Chase Field is a contrasts starkly with the state's many spring training grounds. Hardly cut from the downtown cornfield however, the stadium sits at the eastern edge of the city's resurgent downtown. But you'll hardly notice this at first because the main entrance is from the west. Ticket in hand, you'll undoubtedly be searched gently for contraband and then welcomed inside. (Sealed bottled water is a must.) Just be prepared to walk. While there's an eastern entrance it's almost inaccessible from parking lots to the south. Moreover, if you are sitting on the upper level, be sure to take the massive escalators right inside the entrance. Once indoors, the only way to go up is the stairs or ramps....unless of course you are old or disabled...only then can you line up to use the elevators.
No matter where you are headed, you'll likely end up in a seat of decent size with a cup holder and a decent sightline. But if you elect to sit above row five or so on the upper level, don't be suprised to get a free case of vertigo as well. (It also is much drier and hotter up here, as you might expect.) Sit nearer the ground and you'll actually get a more occluded view because the rows aren't as steep.
At some point you'll inevitable leave your seat for a bit, and this is when you'll start to wonder about this place. Sure, the bathrooms are plentiful and clean and the concourses wide. But don't try to visit that pool you see on TV, it's actually a suite rented out for $6500 a game. Don't wait around expecting much local color either. While Coldstone and Garcia's are represented here, you'd be better off going to the FBR Open to eat local food. After all, Chase's most renown treat are garlic fries available from Gordon Biersch, a Tennessee conglomerate originally from the Bay Area. You'll also see no mention of the state's network of spring training parks, or anything else of even faux cultural value that would confuse the place with say, Camden Yards.
Lastly, there's the issue of price. While baseball has long prided itself as being the most economical of sports to attend, somebody had to pay for the strike in 1994, and it's you. After all, many of Chase's upper seats lie vacant game after game, a testament to the project's ambition during the height of the Steriods Era. Now, however, the game's moguls focus on the high end customer, charging exorbitant prices to get closer and closer to the action at home plate. The stadium reflects this trend, but is hardly the sport's worst offender. As mentioned by others, parking is usually between $5-$10 and bleacher seats cost as much as the upper level. Inexplicably though, the team charges $5 more for so called "premium games" (i.e. teams from certain media markets who are perceived to spend more at the ballpark). Only thing is, the $5 premium applies whether the ticket is normally $20 or $200...calling into question just what economic logic is behind it.
Chase Field is a fine facility...for Houston. But in a state with as rich a baseball history as Arizona, you'd kind of expect more. Before long though, "the BOB" will begin to show it's age and the city might get a second chance.
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