The Coolest Ballpark in America

The writer later will pick a fight with Jerry Bell, president of Twins Sports, Inc., when Bell says he still wishes the field had a retractable roof so that out-of-towners could be ensured against rainouts. Target Field has no lid only because the county wouldn’t pay for one.

The writer’s contention is that putting a roof on this place, retractable or otherwise, would have been a crime against humanity. There will be cold days in spring and fall. That’s why Minnesotans own jackets, isn’t it?

All right, Bell finally concedes, sounding as if he has been down this road before. He began lobbying for a new stadium in 1995 and now is confronted by people who have taken an instant proprietary, protective, and even belligerent interest in this one. He admits: “Once you see it, you say, ‘I don’t want a roof.’”

Populous Senior Principal Earl Santee, the chief designer for the project, has worked on at least 18 Major League Baseball stadiums. He says his goal always is to give a team’s fans “what they believe is the best ballpark in America.” In the case of Target Field, however, Populous actually heard that a lot as the structure took shape, often from the people working on it. “When the construction workers come up and say, ‘We love this building,’” that’s a good sign, Santee says.

Daniel Mehls, the Mortenson Construction executive in charge of the project, says that whenever he brought visitors into the partially finished building last fall, they behaved in line with St. Peter’s prediction: “They stop and bump into each other. They look up in awe. When you walk in there, it just blows you away.”

Mehls says he hasn’t yet bought season tickets because the park will have several of what he calls “neighborhoods of activity,” each offering a different experience, and he wants to try them all: the Metropolitan Club, a big bar and restaurant for season-ticket holders on the right field line; the smaller Champions Club behind home plate; the outfield bleachers; the Budweiser roof deck in left field, which looks like a prime blue-collar party venue waiting only for someone to tap a keg; the quirky Overlook, which extends eight feet over the playing surface in right field, 23 feet above the grass.

Home run balls that clear the overlook and a few rows of seats behind it will land in what now is Target Plaza, with nothing but inertia (or pedestrians) to keep them from rolling all the way across First Avenue and up Sixth Street.

To avail himself of these various neighborhoods, however, Mehls had to build the place. That wasn’t easy.