Covering the bag for Somerset was Brian Traxler, a 5-10, 240-pound bulldozer who would not look out of place playing in your local firemen’s beer-ball league. Leading off first was Sierra, a former all-star and MVP runner-up who, at 6-1 and 200 pounds, still looks like a major leaguer. When Sierra, batting cleanup, walked in the eighth and trotted down to first base, he became part of the perfect picture of independent league baseball. The Surf brought with them Ruben Sierra, the former Texas Rangers superstar who could not seem to find as much success in Oakland, the Bronx, Detroit or the Mets farm system as he did in Arlington. Junior Bonds is a lanky (6-4, 185 pounds) version of his brother with an identical stance, only from the right side of the plate. The most recognizable name on the Somerset roster is Bobby Bonds Jr., the son of the former Giant and brother of three-time MVP Barry. Some are former all-stars or world champions, others are rookies you’ve never heard of. Independent baseball teams usually have a varied group of athletes on the roster. You don’t think of these things in the upper deck at Shea. And watch those drinks you place on top of the wall – a ball high into the screen took ours out luckily we’d drunk most of them. Lean forward in your seat at the wrong moment, and a ball could still bounce off your face. The problem with sitting right behind the plate is those foul balls that hit the screen, which gives at least 12 inches. Even the labels on the bats were legible from Row 1. The continuous murmur from the crowd provided background for the sounds on the field – the pop of a fastball in the catcher’s mitt, the crack of the bat, the call of the umpire and the communication among the players. The front-row seats magnified the entire ballpark experience in the cozy stadium with seats down both foul lines and billboards lending color to the outfield wall.

Throughout the game, Dave called out the pitches (“Oh, what a curve!”) while I kept score. It was a fastball – behind the plate, you see everything. After the Hillsborough Royals took the field with the Patriots for the National Anthem, sung by the Parsons School Chorus, we settled in for the first pitch from lefthander Justin Jensen. Put me in the front row at the ballpark, and I regress into immaturity. “O.K.,” said the woman behind the glass, “how about Field Box? Behind home plate, front row?”įor $8.50 apiece, Dave and I found ourselves tugging at the protective screen behind the plate, telling each other how cool this was. Without advance tickets I went to the window and asked for two of the best available seats. There is also the convenience of New Jersey Transit’s Northeast Corridor line stopping just beyond the right field wall, if that interchange from the Parkway onto 287 just north of the Driscoll Bridge does not excite you as much as it does Dave and his BMW.

Getting to the park was no problem my friend Dave got us the 41 miles from Little Silver (Exit 109) to the parking lot in 45 minutes on a Monday night for a game against the Atlantic City Surf (the third Atlantic League team in the state is the Newark Bears, who will open their stadium on July 16). All last season and the first month of the 1999 campaign, the Patriots played all their games on the road – 125 straight – while the new brick-faced park was built in Bridgewater.Ĭertainly, it was a burden to the players to live in motels and ride buses everywhere, but for the fans it was worth the wait. It begins with our newest diamond, Bridgewater’s Somerset Ballpark, home of the Somerset Patriots of the independent Atlantic League, a six-team organization with thre of the franchises in New Jersey. Eight weeks, eight parks, eight columns relating my experiences. By the end of August, I’ll have visited all six minor league teams in New Jersey, as well as the new Yankees affiliate on Staten Island and one other franchise yet to be determined. In fact, they barely had to ask, and I eagerly accepted. It did not take much for my editors to convince me to take this assignment. will spend a night out at the ballpark each week this summer in search of the best baseball experience this side of Flushing or the Bronx. Now there are six in the Garden State, with another just over on Staten Island and one coming to Lakewood in 2001.

Six years ago, New Jersey had no professional baseball teams.

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