 | Your Junk my Happy Zone | |
| by Brandon Corbett |
I like design. I like using your imagination and bringing in some character to a project. Circles, ellipses, and boxes do nothing for me; make something that catches the eye, give the batters something to aim for when they hit the long flies, make something spectacular. For the most part the MLB fields have been doing a better job of this recently. Houston’s got it, for sure, with the short porch, train, arches, flag pole in play, and of course that hill. Nice targets for batters, fun with dimensions, and one really strange gimmick. Sure, the older “out of the box” stadiums have built their own undeniable charm from the exploits of those who became legends on the field. The players’ blood, sweat, and accomplishment absorbed into the stadiums bringing them to life.* The new generation fields seemingly spring up from the ground with their own life and character already created, simply because of their aesthetic appeal.
When building a wiffleball field there is unlimited potential for what you can do. You can find an open field and put up any kind of fence you have or can find in any shape that comes to mind. You can find a location that has elements already in place that can be part of your fence, and just fill in the gaps with whatever creativity and supplies you have. While the merits and versatility of the open-field style are indisputable, it is the latter, building a field into the existing elements of a location, that I think really gives a field character and life of its own, like the new generation MLB ballparks. When you build into and off of a location you are letting the field tell you what it wants to be, and you listen to it. Invariably that give and take results in unique quirks, and births the personality of the field.
Of the three fields Carl and I have constructed together only Danger Field was an “open field” design. Admittedly, the design was fairly tame as our first attempt at building a wiffleball field. The Rodney was 85’ down the left field line, 80’ to right, and center peaked at either 95’ or 100’. Most of the outfield fence was orange snow fencing and was set up as an unremarkable ellipse from the right field line over to left-center. Left-field, though, had its charms: a three-tiered monster, built from various chain-link construction fences. That tall wall was the appeal and pride of the Downriver Wiffleball League, and we keep a piece of it alive and with us to this day. The Rodney had one more incredibly impressive feature to its name: 30’ foul poles! The “Danger monster” and towering foul poles gave Danger Field character, but the fact that it was the first field we built, played on, and put so much heart into magnified that character into a fascinating, larger-than-life personality.
Pacman Park, our second major undertaking, was a completely different beast. In the four-year gap between playing we had lost the snow fencing and two of the three Rodney segments, and we were too broke to afford new fencing materials. We knew from past tournaments that we could build a field on the opposite side of the tennis courts from where the Rodney had been, and would not need many supplies to complete a home run fence. Right field was built around a corner of the tennis court fence: 12’ high, cutting 8’ into the field of play, and then running away quickly at a sharp angle into right-center. Left-field was a 3’ high track fence following the curve of the track out into left-center. Oh yeah, and these lines were laughably short: 68’ to right, 78’ to left. Left-center and right field got to a respectable 90’, but to counteract the short distances of the lines we drove subdivision streets on garbage nights looking for fencing materials that would be capable of making center field into right-center incredibly deep. Mission accomplished. We found a span of wooden posted fence that looked like it came off a farm long enough to build a fence that stretched back to 124’ in deep right-center.
After playing on the field a few times it became apparent no one was going to hit near that depth, not even with the aluminum bat we allowed at that time. So, we left open a 10’ segment in the new fence when we constructed it and used 12” high garden fencing to form a triangular “mouth” cutting into the field. This is a good time to mention, too, that because we left open the span in right center, there was left over fence that curled into a circle, or "an eye," where it met the track fence in deep left-center. The mouth and the eye made Pacman the only possible name. The mouth provided a lot of interesting scenarios in the game. Including the chance for crazy diving plays, batters getting screwed by missing one foot to either the right or left, and times where spectators were sitting in front of the game action. For that last one the mouth earned the nickname, “the best seat in sports.” Unlike the Rodney, Pacman got its character from the location it was shoehorned into, the disparity of long and short fences, and crazy center field gimmicks, not just the effort we put into it.
Four of our teams are constructing unique home fields this year. Go crazy! Have fun building them, guys! Assembling the fields you play on can be as much fun as playing on them. In a way it is almost like creating your own super villain, since whatever you put out there has the chance to screw you over at some point during the season. Although, since you built it, maybe you know how to beat it. Build to your team’s strengths, or your opponents weaknesses. Get creative and do something ridiculous: a strangely shaped wall, an outrageous distance, random asymmetry, or something that is just complete nonsense. Wiffleball is a weird, wacky game at times. Do yourself the favor and erect your field as a monument to that!
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Brandon Corbett
Flying Squirrels, 17, P
Kevin Costner's Stunt Double
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