Green Cathedrals: the windup.

• Author: Barrett, Wayne M.
• Position: Sports Scene - Reminiscing about baseball

Another L-O-N-G baseball campaign--early February to late October, at nearly three hours per game, is way too drawn out, at least for my tastes--finally is in the books, the 134th professional season on record. Whew! There was a time--not so long ago, actually--when, thanks to an insatiable thirst for knowledge concerning our National Pastime in all its forms, I was capable of recapping key points concerning most of those years. Nowadays, though, I can't even recall the winning pitcher from the game I attended last week. Come to think of it, I don't remember which team the Mets played that day, either.

During my early years as a writer for a small suburban daily, there was this chatty, sort of geeky kid-heck, at 23, we were both kids--working the news beat who was always swapping stories with the sports guys. Like us, he loved going to the ballpark and would talk baseball for hours. I once chided him that he was quickly heading down the path to becoming a permanent denizen of Shea Stadium, and that before he knew it, he'd be one of those stubblefaced old men in a battered cap and shabby overcoat who regularly could be seen hanging around in the general admission section.

He smiled at my prediction. "I look forward to those days with sweet anticipation," was his earnest reply.

A couple of decades have slipped by since that day, and I've long since lost track of my former baseball buddy. I can't help but wonder, though, if he will--or does now--indeed frequent the upper deck at the Big Shea, his tattered jacket's pockets filled with tuna fish sandwiches and The Racing Form. I'm curious as well as to whether, unlike me, he has managed to retain his endless passion for the game, something I've found more elusive with each passing year. Still, there was a time when I, too, made Shea my second home, while also traveling near and far to see what other cities and their ballyards had to offer.

Oriole Park at Camden Yards, Baltimore, Md.: Until Pac Bell Park went up in San Francisco a few years back, the Yards was considered the crown jewel of the latest wave of modern-yet-nostalgic architecture in which old-time charm was brought back into vogue through new-age methods and materials. It's been a grand experiment as well as a great success. A club like the O's, although usually eliminated from contention by the Fourth of July, is still packing them in well past Labor Day. Camden Yards is no Wrigley Field--then again, what is?--but it has to be a...