Scott's View - Greensboro, North Carolina

   We've visited Greensboro twice, two years apart.

   The first time, in 2003, the Greensboro Bats played in War Memorial Stadium. WMS was one of several stadiums we've been to which have claimed to be "the country's oldest Minor League ballpark!" It was erected in 1926, and I know of a park in Evansville, Indiana which was built in 1915, and one in Williamsport, Pennsylvania that went up in 1923. These also profess to be the "oldest." Looking more deeply into these claims, they usually turn out to mean the oldest park without having been remodeled, or the oldest park to be home for a team in consecutive years, or some other such caveat. But in the end, it doesn't really matter. War Memorial Stadium was an old concrete structure with a healthy dose of character. It's where the "rainout" scene in Bull Durham was filmed ("Oh my goodness... We got ourselves a natural disaster!"), and its stately exterior made a quick appearance in the film as well. 

   Another Greensboro location used in Bull Durham (briefly) was the Beef Burger drive-in. During a montage scene of the Bulls on a horrific road trip, the team bus is shown parked in front of Beef Burger as a coach carries a bag of burgers out to the bus. That was the extent of the Beef Burger's film career, but being fans of the movie, it was enough for Ron and I to seek the place out and get a picture or two. We ended up discovering some of the tastiest -- and cheapest -- burgers we've ever had. Originally known as "Biff Burger" (the name was changed for legal reasons some years ago), this place has a rich history in Greensboro and is a can't-miss piece of local color.

   After enjoying our burgers, we made our way to the ballpark. Despite its foreboding name, War Memorial Stadium had a friendly, comfortable atmosphere. This was no doubt helped by virtue of the fact that -- according to the Bats' PR folks -- "The grandstand at the park is North Carolina's largest outdoor sports bar!" They don't say how many outdoor sports bars there are in North Carolina, but there was indeed an actual bar, complete with stools, stretching down the left-field line and curving out into a large deck overlooking the outfield. What's more, it happened to be "dollar beer night" while we were there. Needless to say, we spent most of the game up at the bar, where the view of the game was nearly as good as a box seat anyway. Surprisingly, the grandstand bar stayed open long after the game had ended... and even more surprisingly, the dollar beer promotion continued until closing time. We couldn't think of any reason to go elsewhere. The next day we left Greensboro without having sampled any of the town's other night life... But we had a great time there.

   In 2005, we originally had no intention of being anywhere near North Carolina. That year's plan had us making four stops in Alabama -- Huntsville, Birmingham, Montgomery, and Mobile -- then over to Jackson, Mississippi before heading back north. There was just one problem: As we were preparing to drive south toward the Gulf of Mexico, hurricane Katrina was gathering strength in that very gulf, preparing to slam the coast with what would become historic fury.

   Knowing that Katrina was approaching, we decided to begin our trip as planned -- Gary, Indiana, then down to Huntsville for two nights -- keep an eye on the storm's progress, and be prepared to amend the itinerary on a moment's notice if necessary. We spent Sunday evening enjoying a beautiful, clear night at Huntsville's Joe W. Davis Stadium. At 6:10 the next morning, about 350 miles south of us, Katrina was making landfall.

   Ron and I quickly agreed that east was the way to go to avoid Katrina. We had dodged hurricanes before (Dennis, 1999; Andrew, 1992), and we weren't too concerned this time around. We'd hunker down for a couple of nights in Augusta, Georgia, and let the storm pass before heading back north and then west again. After making a series of phone calls canceling our hotel reservations for the next several nights, we hit the road.

   Everyone recalls the damage this hurricane inflicted on New Orleans, but it's difficult to fathom just how big this thing really was. Click here and you'll see what I mean. It wasn't as easy as we'd imagined to simply drive away from it, and even the outer edges of a storm of this intensity can pack quite a punch. As we approached Atlanta a little past noon, the rain began. It continued as we drove through the city, but at this point, it was still no more than a heavy thunderstorm. Once we cleared Atlanta and continued east, however, things changed. The rain slowed down, but the sky... The sky was evil. I really don't mean to be over-dramatic, but that's the best adjective I can use to describe this sky. Evil. I've lived in the midwest my entire life and I've seen my share of nasty storms. From time to time I would look at a storm sky and think, "Hmm, I wonder if that could form a tornado." But that day I realized I'd never seen a tornado sky before. It was dark as night in the middle of the day. The green/black clouds churned and swirled with a ferocity I never thought possible. This was a tornado sky.

   Well, we didn't actually see a tornado. Ron was at the wheel and he put the pedal to the floor and finally got us away from that system. Ten minutes later, we heard on the radio that a tornado had indeed touched down in Conyers... exactly where we had just been. And that's as close as I ever want to get to one again.

   Over the next two days in Augusta (there were no ball games in town during our stay), we saw the news of the horrible devastation in New Orleans, and like most Americans felt a deep sense of sorrow for the victims. We considered scrapping the trip then and there, but ultimately realized there was no point in doing so. For one thing, if we started heading home now, we'd be driving right back into the remnants of Katrina as she continued to move north. And there was nothing we could do at that point anyhow. So we decided to make the most of the remainder of the week and find some Baseball.

   That's how we came to be in Greensboro again.

   We drove up through South Carolina, steering well clear of the last effects of the hurricane, and arrived in Greensboro in the early afternoon. We swung by the brand-new First Horizon Park to pick up tickets for that night's game. What a difference from the old War Memorial Stadium! FHP is part of the latest trend of new Minor League parks built right into the downtown districts of smaller cities. For the most part, this has been a good thing. Most of these are very nice parks, and have helped revive flagging neighborhoods in places like Toledo, Louisville, and Oklahoma City. From the street, this appeared to be a marvelous facility, all brick and wrought iron, in stark contrast to War Memorial's imposing concrete facade.  

   After securing lodging just a couple blocks from the ballpark, and making a repeat visit to Beef Burger, we returned to First Horizon Park for the game. We'd been impressed earlier by the park's exterior, and the interior did not disappoint. This is everything a new ballpark should be. Comfortable and open, modern but with a traditional feel, it was a perfect place to decompress from the events of the previous days while watching the Grasshoppers (new stadium, new name!) defeat the visiting Hickory Crawdads.

   When the game was over and we walked back toward the hotel, we discovered a nice clean town with a certain old-south charm, and found a few fine taverns along the way that offered cold beer and friendly conversation.