No matter how well the basketball teams and football teams that I root for are doing, my thoughts are focused on baseball generally and the Cubs specifically. While the team and MLB does a lot to honk me off, I’m caught in its web. Ultimately, when I’m at a ballpark, I’m in my happy place and have learned to appreciate specific things about the game and the ballpark. I also appreciate that not everyone’s approach is similar to mine and sometimes I have to see the game through other people’s eyes.

After a few half-ass attempts, I finally made it to the Quad Cities for an afternoon game yesterday. While I’ll hold off on game notes and thoughts about the two teams, I feel now is the time to celebrate Modern Woodman Ballpark in Davenport, Iowa. It’s fitting that I finally got to Davenport as MLB heads into All-Star week.

Twenty years ago, I attended my first game at John O’Donnell Stadium for the Midwest League ASG. This was also my first foray into writing multiple, freelance features. While not a youngster, this was both frightening and exciting as nobody was there to mentor me. Luckily, the traveling front office staff from the Fort Wayne Wizards welcomed me at the media luncheon and introduced me to people in the league who mattered. It was then that I established my bona fides with George Spelius and Ed Larson. I knew George because he was the gregarious President of the MWL and treated fans better than most owners of professional teams. Ed was his lieutenant, a deputy or Vice President, representing the Burlington Bees. George was based in Beloit 90 miles from Casa de Bob.

Looking back at the features that came out of the three-day junket, I barely scratched the surface of my abilities-pathetic as they may be. However, I did gain some confidence and learned that I had a lot to learn about relating to my subjects and asking the questions I thought people wanted answers to. Suffice to say, I’m still learning but I am enjoying the process more than I thought I would.

I’d like to say I had an eye for talent and the guys I wrote about became big ML stars who would later remember me in their HOF speeches, but they didn’t and that’s fine with me because I thought I did a nice job of telling their particular tales. However, my on-the-spot coverage of Jay Bruce, led to further stories for a Beaumont, Texas newspaper. That was a boost in confidence that I am forever grateful for.

The biggest names that played in that 2006 game were Bruce, Johnny Cueto, Justin Upton, Wade Davis, Nick Adenhart (a favorite of mine) and local guy Jaime Garcia. Upton was the hyped #1 overall pick from the 2005 draft. He was both a tough get for the media and autograph collectors. The game was also notable for one of the bigger snubs, Cameron Maybin and two former Cub catchers, managing; Jody Davis and Matt Walbeck.

While I haven’t noticed many of the specific enhancements to the ballpark in the past twenty years, I know they’ve made improvements. As one of the oldest minor league ballparks (1930), few ballparks have a better backdrop. Like many stadiums built in that era, it was named Municipal Stadium, but the genius was placing it on the edge of the mighty Mississippi River.

While I went to yesterday’s game, hoping for a good game, I was more than content to sit and enjoy the view and warm weather. Sitting behind the third base dugout, the Centennial Bridge was in my sightline. The bridge connects Davenport with Rock Island, Illinois and has been incorporated into the team’s logo. A simple tilt of the head and I’m looking down the left field line at the 110-foot Ferris wheel. It’s a truly spectacular sight.

I know the gentleman across the aisle from me was marveling at the backdrop and at the same time, missing the lack of fan engagement. Conversely, the three-generation family sitting next to me took advantage of the amusements in the left field concourse. They made no attempts to explain the game to their young boy.

From what I witnessed nobody strained their vocal cords cheering on either team or giving the raspberry to the other team. Despite the name, Rascal, the mascot was anything but a rascal. He is one of the most serious mascots I’ve encountered in professional ball. Whether numbed by the several changes made by current ownership the usual autograph mob was nowhere to be seen and the crowd for the pregame (on field) autograph session was embarrassingly sparse. Unlike my last minor league game, the only giveaway, was a flimsy yellow tee shirt sponsored by a credit union or something and was hardly a cherished souvenir, yet nobody was complaining.

It’s fair to say, sometimes the simplest things are the nicest treats. It sure as heck wasn’t the $1 Keystone Light.