Ebbets Field: The
greatest ball park ever.
(Courtesy of the Los
In the spring of 1947, Ebbets Field was entering its thirty-fifth season, and in that year more fans would pass through the fabled ball yard’s portals than in any other.
The old ballpark was “the fun house of baseball,” as artist Andy Jurinko has said, with its cozy stands bringing fans near enough to the action to make matters up close and personal, whether for players, umpires, or the person sitting next to you.
It was close enough to hear the players’ chatter, close enough, if you were sitting in line with the first base bag, to see the whites of the first baseman’s eyes. It was close enough for those who were on the field to see and hear you. And to be seen and heard in Brooklyn, at Ebbets Field, was not to be forgotten.
It was a palette of color, from the ads on the outfield walls from the right-field corner to the left, whether for Coca-Cola, Botany Ties, BurmaShave, Gem Blades, or a host of others, save for a hitter’s blackened background in straightaway center.
There was the scoreboard that jutted out from the right-center-field wall, along the right-field wall that separated Bedford Avenue’s sidewalk from the field; it was the only wall in the ballpark that did