No place in Memphis has given me more consistent joy over the last 27 years than AutoZone Park. My wife and I raised our two daughters on Redbirds baseball. My firstborn, Sofia, arrived in 1999, a year before Downtown’s jewel of a diamond opened. Elena arrived in 2002. They knew what a sacrifice fly was before they entered elementary school, and they could define RBI and ERA (in baseball terms) by age 10. Together as softball teammates in 2017, they helped White Station High School to its one and only appearance in the state sectionals. My family’s journey could be measured in metaphorical innings.
So you can imagine my reaction when I read the following thoughts last week (courtesy of the Daily Memphian) from Memphis City Council member Chase Carlisle: “People are playing pickleball. They are not going to minor-league baseball games. At some point we have to say, 30 years later, ‘Is baseball our best bet? Do we have the best tenant possible in there?’” Carlisle represents Super District 9, Position 1, and he shared these two cents as part of the council’s rejecting $5 million in maintenance funding for AutoZone Park. We’ve not met, but I’m venturing to guess this councilman has never spent a Sunday afternoon at our ballpark. If he has, he wasn’t paying attention.
This is not a column about economics and budget management. Dean and Kristi Jernigan over-borrowed and over-spent when they brought their dream of a Downtown stadium to life just before the turn of the century. Celebrated as a major-league stadium designed for minor-league baseball, the ballpark was too much of the former with the revenue realities of the latter weighing heavily since Opening Day in 2000. Upon his arrival in 2014, Redbirds president Craig Unger spearheaded a profound reshaping of the stadium and the ballpark experience, the aim being a singular, memorable outing, but one that’s affordable and, somehow, profitable for the Triple-A franchise’s current ownership (Diamond Baseball Holdings). It’s a challenge, and it was a challenge before a pandemic changed the way human beings “go out” for fun.
If you’ve attended a basketball game at FedExForum recently, you know this is not a baseball problem. Giant tarps are hung to hide the empty upper deck on Tiger game nights. Simmons Bank Liberty Stadium will provide a new, better experience for fans this fall after reducing its seating capacity. Well over $200 million has been spent, it should be noted, to deliver Mid-South football fans that better experience.
This is a column about joy. And about the value joy brings a city, brings a community. Buses of school kids attend matinee games at AutoZone Park in April, and if you haven’t heard this particular volume of children’s cheers, you’re missing something significant. College kids love Thursday nights at AutoZone Park, the discounted beer part of the draw, but being outside at a professional sporting event is the memory maker. Elderly couples in baseball jerseys? I see them at virtually every game I attend, “Musial” or “Gibson” on their backs, thoughts of my late father lifting me even as they squeeze my heart.
Maybe $5 million is too much taxpayer money to help Unger keep his stadium up to safety standards. That’s Chase Carlisle’s decision, I suppose. But to suggest people aren’t going to AutoZone Park, and because they’re playing pickleball?!? That’s the view of someone quite out of touch with the corner of Union Avenue and B.B. King Boulevard. A family of four can still attend a Redbirds game for less than $100. Minor-league baseball is, in fact, the last truly affordable option in pro sports. (Google the cost of World Cup tickets for a laugh.)
Take yourself out to the ballgame, especially if you haven’t been in a while. For joy, however you define it. I’ve attended hundreds of games, and by this measure, the Memphis Redbirds are batting a thousand. For the Chase Carlisles of the world, that means they deliver a hit every time up.
Frank Murtaugh is the managing editor of Memphis Magazine. He writes the columns “From My Seat” and “Tiger Blue” for the Flyer.
