Columnist Ron Kantowski: Cashman showing its age

By Ron Kantowski

Friday, March 28, 2003 | 9:36 a.m.

Ron Kantowski is a Las Vegas Sun sports writer. Reach him at ron@ lasvegassun.com or(702) 259-4088.

When the Los Angeles Dodgers' Odalis Perez threw out the first pitch on Big League Weeknight at a little past 7 Thursday, it marked the 20th season of professional baseball at Cashman Field.

In 1983, Cashman was considered a jewel among minor league ballparks. But if you look beyond the manicured infield and emerald outfield, the tarnish is beginning to show.

With shimmering new ballparks going up all over the Pacific Coast League -- four have opened since 2000 and Albuquerque will christen its new yard next week -- Cashman's inadequacies are apparent to anybody who travels around the league. Or for that matter, anybody who has tried to use the restroom on Fireworks Night.

"The thing is, this is the 27th-oldest facility in Triple-A baseball," said longtime Las Vegas 51s president and general manager Don Logan, who has witnessed every one of Cashman Field's birthdays except the first one. "If you guys -- the media, the mayor -- would go and see what else is out there, you would understand it in terms of amenities."

Forget the amenities, unless you consider peanuts and Cracker Jack a delicacy. If you wanted either Thursday night, you risked missing something really important -- like the final six innings.

That is, if you could even get to the concession stands to stand in line. The concourse is so narrow at Cashman that if a guy like David Wells wanted to get a beer on a big crowd night such as Thursday, he'd have to turn sideways to avoid bumping into somebody.

"When we have 10,000 people here, we have issues with restrooms and concessions," Logan said. "If we get more than 5,000 or 6,000, you can't buy a beer, you can't move around."

Sometimes, you can't even get inside the stadium to impersonate a sardine. On Thursday, a home show at the Cashman Center convention center was being set up and made finding a parking space difficult.

Those who do park outside the lots are asking for trouble. Cashman Field, situated just north of downtown on Las Vegas Boulevard, isn't exactly the garden spot of Las Vegas.

"There are bullet holes on the back of the scoreboard," Logan said. "That's usually not a good sign.

"I don't want to get in a position where you say (to the city) you have to build us something that costs $40 million but ... "

Let me finish the thought: If the 51s don't speak up, there's a chance they could be 86'ed from the PCL someday.

That's a worse-case scenario, of course. But if you don't believe it could happen, just look to Albuquerque.

That city, like Tacoma or Pawtucket or the Quad Cities, was synonymous with minor league baseball for nearly three decades. But when the Dodgers ended their long affiliation with the Dukes to move here two years ago, the San Diego Padres were left to choose between Albuquerque and Portland.

That happened to be the same year that Civic Stadium in Portland was given a $38.5 million facelift and renamed PGE Park. You don't have to be Tony LaRussa to figure out where the Padres top farm club wound up.

When it opened in 1972, the Albuquerque Sports Stadium, like Cashman Field, was considered state of the art. But when Albuquerque lost its team, at least it did something about it. It spent $27.5 million on a new stadium (the land was free), where the Albuquerque Isotopes (formerly the Calgary Cannons) will begin playing ball next week.

"The issue is the back of the house stuff," Logan said, addressing the hitting and pitching tunnels, spacious weight room facilities and modern locker rooms that parent clubs desire, but may soon demand.

Cashman Field has none of the above. You should have seen the Dodgers trying to get dressed in their tiny locker room. It looked like a bunch of frat boys trying to cram into a Volkswagen.

The closest thing to a weight room is the corridor behind the dugouts, where a couple of stationary bicycles sat unused. You couldn't get near them, because there were Dodgers equipment bags strewn all over the place.

The 51s administrative offices are more like a bunker. Logan's cubicle is a little bigger than the others in that it has four chairs, all worn, instead of one or two.

Still, when he suggested we conduct our interview in the left-field picnic area, I was glad to comply. Claustrophobia was setting in.

The only thing about Cashman Field that doesn't need fixing is the playing field. It's as pristine as it ever was, so at least the big boys couldn't complain about bad hops.

"The Dodgers are happy here," Logan said, noting the proximity of Las Vegas to Los Angeles. "But who's to say they couldn't go back to their beloved Albuquerque?"

Well, Mayor Goodman could say it, by arranging for the financing of a new stadium that would serve as the centerpiece of that 61-acre parcel downtown that should be developed by the time we put a man on Mars or the Cubs win the pennant, whichever comes first.

But Logan's timing couldn't be worse if he were Dave Kingman trying to hit a changeup. The mayor is adamant that not a single tax dollar will be spent on a sports facility and has dismissed Southwest Sports Group, whose forte is building ballparks, as a project consultant.

"The idea is you don't just build a stadium, you build pads around it, where you could put apartments and offices," Logan said, citing the synergy between AutoZone Park, the fabulous new home of the Memphis Redbirds, and its downtown business neighbors. "There are things you could do that would make it a home run for the city."

But for now, the idea of a new ballpark is looking more like an infield popup.

That's too bad. Cashman Field has served us well, but what we really need is Cashman Yards.