There's No Place Like Home

This one was long overdue, my visit to the Wilmington Blue Rocks. I was born in Wilmington and so were my brothers and sisters. We moved to Florida long before the Blue Rocks arrived on the scene. When we were kids, this was part of the world belonged to the Philadelphia Phillies. 

My father was never a big sports fan, but his father was and so were my Dad’s brothers. Grandpop’s little black and white television always had the Phillies on when we were there for Sunday dinner. I have a faint memory of going to a game once in Philadelphia, maybe at Connie Mack stadium.

So many times I have rushed past the Blue Rocks ballpark while driving south on Delaware’s tiny stretch of I-95, and I’ve have thought to myself, “I need to go to a game here.” This goes back to long before I became obsessed with visiting ballparks both major league and minor. Uncle Dick, my Dad’s younger brother, and I talked about going several times. We managed to see the Phillies together, but never made it the Blue Rocks. 

Three mascots for the Blue Rocks: Rocky Bluewinkle works the crowd,
Mr. Celery whoops it up when the Rocks score,
and Rubble shows up on merchandise at the Quarry.

There was an earlier Blue Rocks team that played in the 1940s, named for the colorful granite found along the banks of the Brandywine River. I had never heard of that team, but I was only two years old when they stopped playing in 1952.

The new team adopted the name of the original Blue Rocks when it moved from Hampton, Va., to begin play in Wilmington in 1993. Since then the team had been a minor league affiliate of the Kansas City Royals, with copycat colors and logos that continue to this day. There were two years, 2005 and 2006, that the team was affiliated with the Boston Red Sox, But the Royals returned in 2007.

In last year’s minor league shakeup, the Washington Nationals invited the Blue Rocks to be their High-A affiliate. Wilmington was placed in the High-A East League where they now compete with the minor league teams of regional big league clubs like the Phillies, Mets and Yankees.

Tribute to a legend outside the stadium. The Blue Rocks play their home games
on Judy Johnson Field at Daniel S. Frawley Stadium 

Now here I am, at last. It’s Independence Day weekend 2021, I’m on my way to another personal errand in the nation’s capital, and I’m ready for my first Blue Rocks home game at Daniel S. Frawley Stadium.

Traveling here was not so bad, considering that it’s Independence Day weekend. There were some construction snags along the way, and the traffic flow map indicated it might be slow getting to the game from where I’m staying in Maryland. I decided to skip I-95, the quick route, and travel through Newark and the University of Delaware to Route 2, also known as Kirkwood Highway, which will take me right to the stadium.

Kirkwood Highway may as well be called Memory Lane for me. Although there have been a lot of changes, many of the landmarks from my childhood are still part of the landscape. The “humongous” Quonset hut shaped Acme supermarket is no longer the anchor of Price’s Corner, but the sprawling shopping center’s towering sign still beckons Wilmington’s suburban residents.

The road leads into Elsmere and I pass the streets where my grandparents had homes, first on Maple Avenue, then on Central. I drive by the building where my brother and I would walk to the barbershop. On the corner was a drug store, where we would spend the dime or nickel that was the change from the dollar for our haircuts. It’s a liquor store today.

Down the side streets are the two elementary schools we kids attended. The Poplar Avenue School was for grades 1 through 3, and the Spruce Avenue School, the “new” school for grades 4 through 8.

Local ballpark fare, the Philly cheesesteak.

There’s good news at the ballpark. Parking is free and right in front of the stadium. I even get a good deal on a senior ticket for $12. My seat is behind home plate in the front row of the upper box section. Looking out towards left field, I can see the familiar twin spires of St. Hedwig Roman Catholic Church. Further up the hill in Little Italy is St. Anthony of Padua.

Past right field is the familiar low profile of downtown. There are more buildings, more modern architecture, but it still looks like the Wilmington I remember. I’m convinced I’m staring straight at the place where my brothers and sisters and I were born, Delaware Memorial Hospital. That building is gone, but there’s still a hospital in its place on the left as you cross the Brandywine driving south into Wilmington.

A rainbow after a brief shower gives fans the green light to return to their seats.
The Parsons kids always think of Mom and Dad,
our angels in the outfield, when a rainbow shows up.

The weather looks good for baseball, unlike the stormy night before that forced postponement of game 3 in the 6-game series between the Blue Rocks and the Rome Braves. It’s encouraging for the post-game fireworks too. A little bit of rain in the second inning was not enough to stop play on the field, but it did send most of the fans scurrying for cover.

An unoccupied seat for those who must not be forgotten.

The visiting Braves made it rain baseballs as they got hits, a total of 14, in all but the 8th inning. They were up 4-1 going into the bottom of the 7th, when the Blue Rocks came up with 3 runs to tie the game. Although Wilmington had scored a run earlier, they didn’t have a hit until the big 7th inning rally. Jesse Franklin V’s solo home run put the Braves ahead in the top of the ninth, and the Blue Rocks weren’t able to get anyone across the plate in the bottom of the inning. Final: Rome Braves 5, Wilmington Blue Rocks 4.

Tomorrow is a day with my cousins, then it’s another ballgame in Aberdeen, Md., before I continue on to see friends near D.C. Tonight was a good game with good fireworks, good food and lots of good memories. It’s good to be back home.