The Minors
Or, A Trip to Bowling Green
“I love minor league baseball. Nothing like watching a bunch of people I’ve never heard of not play very well.”
That’s a funny quote from The Cleveland Show, a show I don’t actually find all that funny, but it’s not terribly accurate. Well, part of it is. Unless a can’t-miss, hyped-up prospect is working his way through the minors, most minor league players are anonymous. Obviously, not all of them will stay that way, but it’s hard to know who’s going to pan out in the Show when you’re watching them work their way up, especially if you’re watching the lower ranks of the minor leagues.
The part of that quote baseball people will take umbrage at is the part about not playing very well. By their very nature, the minors aren’t supposed to be as good as the majors, but I don’t care what level you’re looking at, all the way down to Low-A ball, it still takes an extraordinary amount of talent just to reach the minor leagues, let alone stick around and carve out a path to MLB.
So minor league baseball gets a bad rap. In addition to the drop in overall talent and the lack of name cache, a lot of people view minor league baseball as a kind of circus sideshow attraction. And it’s true, minor league attendance is definitely driven by crazy promotions, outrageous contests, giveaways, and ridiculous stunts, but I don’t get why that’s such a bad thing.
Look, I respect the game as much as anyone. The quality of the game itself should be first and foremost, but baseball is a game. It’s supposed to be fun, especially at the ballpark. Look at baseball being played in Latin American countries and Japan. The crowd is as raucous as a college football game. MLB ballparks look very staid in comparison. I’m not saying most minor league parks reach that level either, but they’re the closest we have to that atmosphere in America.
I didn’t find this out for myself until fairly recently. I’d long intended to check out a minor league game, but something always came up. When I was a kid and we visited family in Oklahoma City, I was promised tickets to an 89ers game, but they were on a road trip for the duration of our stay.
Not a lot of eyes were on the minors when I was a kid, but now it’s a full-time cottage industry. As a Royals fan, it feels like the fanbase has spent the majority of my adult life scouting the farm system for hope, which has resulted in several exciting prospects climbing through the ranks. I wanted to make the drive up I-29 to Omaha (it’s only a couple of hours) to see Bobby Witt Jr. when he was with the Storm Chasers in AAA, but I never made it happen.
Closer to home, we have the Monarchs (formerly the T-Bones) of the American Association, an independent league. The Monarchs have won multiple championships since they changed their name a few years back, and considering how bad the Royals have been during that time span, there’s a strong argument I would have been better served taking my family to games at Legends Field instead of the K. I can’t really argue against that, it definitely would have saved me some cash and probably would have resulted in more wins for the good guys, but the truth is, I don’t get out to the ballpark nearly as much as I’d like, and when the opportunity presents itself, I usually go for the big league experience. Maybe I’m a sucker.
Thankfully, I finally got the chance to step outside my comfort zone in 2021. I just needed to get away from home. My wife was doing a program at Western Kentucky that summer for her Master’s, which meant I was left at home with my youngest son for about a month-and-a-half. It was fun getting some one-on-one time with him. We ate a bunch of sloppy joes and no one was around to complain about me watching too much baseball and NBA playoffs. (They were late that year, coming off the Covid season.)
Before she came back, however, we made arrangements to drop the kid off at grandma’s so I could head down to Bowling Green and spend a long weekend with her. I didn’t go with any baseball plans in mind — after a month or so apart, I’m sure you can guess my top priority — but baseball found a way to work itself in. After our initial reunion, of course.
First off, the Airbnb we stayed at was owned by a couple who had recently moved from California. It turned out they were longtime neighbors of former Royals pitcher Danny Duffy (he was still with the team at the time), which they pointed out after seeing my Royals shirt. They even called Duffy’s family (I think it was his dad) just to tell them they had Royals fans staying at the house.
On our second night in town, we went to a Bowling Green Hot Rods game. The Hot Rods are the High-A affiliate of the Rays, and they were playing the Rome Braves. I’m sure you can guess who they’re affiliated with, although according to Wikipedia, they’re now known as the Emperors. I didn’t know any of the players, and I didn’t manage to keep a program, so I have no idea if we saw anyone noteworthy. Considering all the young talent in both systems, I’d say the chances are fairly high we did.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it pretty much lived up to my expectations. The stadium was obviously much smaller than I was used to and it wasn’t completely full, but it was hopping. It really did feel like a carnival outside the stadium, and there was something entertaining going on in between every half-inning.
I don’t really remember much about the game itself, other than the massive smokestacks on each side of the centerfield scoreboard. An engine revved and the smokestacks shot out columns of fire every time a Hot Rods player put one over the wall or scored a run, which actually happened quite a bit. That much I do remember.
Other than that, it was just a fantastic night at the ballpark, every bit as enjoyable as any big league experience I’ve had. Probably more so than some of them. I picked up a souvenir Hot Rods baseball for my baseball-obsessed middle son, drank some of the best lemonade I’ve ever had, and spent an extremely pleasant night sitting down the third base line with my wife. I even have some pictures somewhere of a beautiful full moon hanging over the ballpark.
One other weird note from that night. I saw several other people in the stands wearing Royals shirts and jerseys, despite watching a Rays minor league team in what was, according to the games I could pick up on local radio, definitely Reds and Cardinals country. I don’t know if that’s a regular occurrence or pure happenstance, but it struck me as funny. I have a knack for finding other Royals fans in unexpected places.
Amazing how baseball can make you feel at home, no matter where you go.
Thanks for reading Powder Blue Nostalgia. Do you have a minor league team you root for? Share your minor league stories in the comments.
Hi Patrick,
I attend 10-12 high single A ball games for our Greenville Drive each year. Over the 19 seasons they have been around, we've seen 15-20 players make it to the show. They are affiliated with Boston Red Sox and the stadium is a beautiful rendition of Fenway Park, with the Green Monster in left and Penske pole down the right field pole. Lovely place for a 2-3 hour break from the craziness of life. ⚾😉