Scottsdale is a strange place. It was once named one of “America’s most livable cities,” but most of it gives off an air of exclusivity, telling you that if you don’t like golf, trendy restaurants and expensive planned communities, you’re not going to enjoy yourself very much here. Which is fine for Scottsdale, because there are a lot of people who like those things, so this is all my problem, not Scottsdale’s.
But there are little exceptions, I’m finding. One exception is a nice cozy establishment called TT Roadhouse where this reporter replenished himself last night. Fine place. Dark with a good jukebox. Good beer and an unassuming clientle that, at least last night, was on the safe side of excessive hipsterism, the presence of PBR on draft notwithstanding. It made me happy that such a place exists in a town like Scottsdale, suggesting that no matter how far our Republic slides sideways, there will always be something good and cool surviving in the cracks.
Another nice thing is Scottsdale Stadium, spring home of the San Francisco Giants. It opened in 1992, which was an awkward time for any ballpark to have been built, what with the new wave of nostalgic joints not yet crashing over the ballpark construction industry and the march toward opulence not yet firmly taking hold. A park built at that time ran a pretty high risk of being a utilitarian nightmare.
Scottsdale Stadium avoids that, however. Part of that may be the result of a recent renovation, but the bones of the place are solid, strong and altogether pleasant. The first pitch is a couple hours away, but it all seems like a pleasant and efficient baseball game delivery device. In this -- and in its in-town, on-the-grid location -- it reminds me a lot of City of Palms Park in Fort Myers where the Red Sox play. I think I’m going to enjoy myself today.
When I got here I headed down to the Giants’ clubhouse and checked that scene out a bit. More on that later. For now, though, know this: the Giants are a very relaxed bunch. A veteran team doing veteran team things. There are reminders that they are the reigning World Series champs everywhere you look. It’s written on signs and shirts and most conspicuously, on that freshly-painted logo behind home plate, still roped off as I type this and the Giants take the field for their pregame workout.
A pregame workout that I’m going to go check out now and report back to you later.