There is no surer sign that we're becoming a weaker and feebler people than our muleish insistence on, when we attend a ballgame, being able to actually see that ballgame. Time was when a doughty sort presented with an obstructed view either made do with what he was given or punched his way into a better seat. Now? Now the blessed relic of the obstructed view has been undermined by modern ballpark design firms and their generous benefit packages and ping-pong tables in the breakroom.
On this day, though, let us stand athwart progress and determine which current or former steel-and-concrete ballyard offers the game-goer the finest in character-building crappy optics.
First, Fenway ...
(Image: Baseball Fever)
Excellent! Rather than the baseball game for which you paid redeemable currency or -- better yet -- exchanged otter pelts back when the barter economy/maritime fur trade held sway, you instead lay hardened eyes upon this load-bearing beam. Note the pleasing hue of institutional green, which calls to mind the calming milieu of a tuberculosis ward.
Now to Wrigley ...
(Image: Red State Blue State)
This one doesn't appear to be quite as sprawling as the Fenway obstruction, but those little fault lines snaking across the beam in tandem with the lack of recent capital improvements raise the tantilizing possibility of being a part of one of history's great structural disasters. Stomp your feet to increase the chances!
And now, the late greats ...
(Image: Cook & Sons' Baseball Adventures)
The upper reaches of the Metrodome! Given the setting, consider this a giant tent-pole. You can't see much, but you can see Marty Cordova.
And finally ...
(Image: Reddit Baseball)
Shea Stadium! This one earns points for being not only a visual hindrance but also an unwelcome physical presence -- a presence that, without first asking for permission, lays relentless siege upon one's groin. Which raises the question: Feature or bug?
Regardless of the answer, Shea Stadium wins -- again and at everything.