Dodgertown was officially opened in 1953 when the Dodgers were still in Brooklyn. When the team moved to Los Angeles, they became one of the only West Coast teams to still train on the East Coast. The construction cost was 117 million, with Holman Stadium, Dodgertown's main attraction, sitting right in the middle of it. When Branch Rickey signed Jackie Robinson, as the first player ever to make the jump from the Negro Leagues to the MLB, Florida did not respond well. When hotels wouldn't let the Dodgers stay in them because of Robinson, Dodgertown built apartments. The Dodgers were no longer permitted to any Florida golf courses, so what do the Dodgers do? They built a golf course. With an all-white team the Dodgers Spring Training facilities would have been bullpens and fields, Jackie was the one who made it a town. But not just any town; a town far different than any I have ever been to; a town that was all baseball in 1953, and is all baseball in 2010.
Wednesday night was our first scheduled game, 7:30, under the lights at Holman; the big field. We got there at 5:30 and hit in the cages next to the stadium, but who could focus? Our trek to the field was through the bullpen, a real bull pen, and right past the right field foul pole. We stayed in foul territory as the grounds crew finished up watering the infield and sculpting the batters box. We laughed because in Philadelphia, the grounds crew is us. The first thing I do when we are cleared to go on the field is take the mound. Don't get me wrong, I don't pitch; but standing on the same mound as Koufax and Drysdale sent shivers up my spine. I ran out to third base for the home half of the first inning. It was just about dark and the lights had just come on. I looked up at them and they hit my eyes hard; anyone inside my head would have called me a rookie. Someone yelled and I looked over to find that our only fans were a few parents and a team from Staten Island all competing over two girls. This was the big time? I was digging it. With one out I cleanly field a sharp ground ball but badly screw up my arm on a throw that missed way wide of first, and I'm sidelined. Just like that the dream experience of playing on a professional baseball field went down the drain. I watched the rest of the game from the sideline and knew that my week was over when just merely bending my arm made me cringe in pain.
I wasn't going to let it completely ruin the experience. The next night we played in Holman again, same time. I cherished the experience of standing in the same dug out as Tommy Lasorda, or squatting in the same spot as Roy Campanella once had. In the fifth inning my coach pinch hit me even though I was really struggling to throw the bat through the zone. I swung in the same on deck circle as Pee Wee Reese and then stepped into the same batter's box as Robinson himself. That was enough for me. I got a bad strike called on me, down and in, and took a quick glance back at the umpire and for a second, imagined a full crowd behind him wondering where the pitch was, just like me. When I painfully went down swinging I walked back to the dug out swearing to myself, walking away with Strike two in my head and a life time's worth of baseball experience in my back pocket.
The run down real estate and boarded up shops of Vero Beach are components of a recession driven by the departure of the Dodgers. As selfish as it may sound, the departure of the Dodgers also drove the time of my life. Yes, I was on the disabled list, but looking over the left field scoreboard, with the sun dipping just below the palm trees lining the outfield fence, I tagged Holman as my Field of Dreams. Where for just one at bat, I held the stick of something more than a High School utility infielder, when I dug my cleats into the dirt and stared deep into the Florida night.
JD
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