Shibe Park/Connie Mack Stadium

Bob Diddlebock is a writer and a friend of mine. He currently writes for Time Magazine.
He lives in Colorado but grew up in Philadelphia so he took the Phils loss to the Giants in the NLCS hard.
During an e-mail exchange, I asked him if he ever attended a game at Shibe Park, later renamed Connie Mack Stadium.
Here was Bob's reply and I share it because, if you are "ballpark guy," like I am you will enjoy it.

Saw a countless number of games at Connie Mack as a kid in the 1960s. Still had dreams about that place until a few years ago: slowly picking our way down the concrete steps from the concourse -- otherwise dark, save for the narrow shafts of sunlight that sneaked through the big shuttered windows -- to our seats on the 3rd base side of the first level, with the colors -- the uber-dark green grass, the chocolate-milk-brown infield, the cherry-red-and-gunship-gray seats -- exploding all around. (Ironically, I have three seats -- wooden slats/forged-iron frames -- from Shibe Park in my Tech Center apartment.) To this day, I can still smell and taste the freshly roasted (!) peanuts.

Loved that place, even though it was the Mecca of (usually lousy) Phils beisbol. Saw all the huge stars -- Mays, Musial, Aaron, Marichal, Koufax, Pete Rose (in his rookie year of 1963, no less, when he still had that crew cut), Clemente, Richie Allen, you name 'em. (One friend tells a great story about his childhood encounter with Phillies 1st baseman/all-time blockhead Dick Stuart at Connie Mack one afternoon.)

But the amenities were lousy; the place always reminded me (especially from the outside) of my dad's meat-packing plant on Girard Avenue, not far away. Connie Mack was a factory-like building that had a smell all its own -- something between a mix of scrapple/Ortlieb's beer/hot tar and (from what I've read over the decades) a 1920s New Orleans brothel (sans the piano player, but with a kitchen, wet bar, etc.) on a hot, sticky evening. The place was always in ramshackle condition, and parking was a verrry scary proposition, due to the sketchy neighborhood (22nd & Lehigh Avenue, just down the street from the old Baker Bowl -- the original, turn-of-the-century home of the Phils and Athletics), the logistics, etc.

By Saam, the Phillies long-time announcer who went to his reward years ago, put it best: "Connie Mack Stadium? It was a shit house."

I then wrote Bob, "I've always loved the tower at the entrance of the park. I heard that was Connie Mack's office. I've never seen a picture of the inside of that office. Have you ever seen what the inside looked like? It's a mystery that has always peaked my interest." I also asked him where Baker Bowl was in relation to Shibe Park.

Bob's response: The Baker Bowl was literally one block up -- toward Lehigh Avenue -- from Connie Mack. Long gone, even when I was a kid. My dad, who grew up in Philadelphia, never remembered going to a game there. I think part of it burned down at one point -- may have been in the late teens or early 1920s -- and it never re-opened. It, along with Archbold Stadium at Syracuse U., was one of the world's first buildings to incorporate what was then modern structural steel -- a huge, new concept in big-time construction -- on such a large scale.

I have seen photos of Connie Mack's office. Looked a lot like the owner's suite in THE NATURAL. When I get home, I'll check some of my Phillies history books, if I still have them, to see if I can find a few of those old photos for you.

Used to be a bar behind the right-field wall at Connie Mack. Big hangout for players, as well as bullpen guys during games, so the lore went. Grover Cleveland Alexander was one of baseball's best pitchers back in the teens and 1920s, as well as a world-class drunk. Craved whiskey so much that as he was drinking, he'd also rub gin into the skin on his arms, so that his body could (presumably) absorb even more alcohol. In turn, so the story/theory went, he could get even more soused. I'll ask my doc about that at my next appointment ...

Thanks Bob. Good stuff.