Mr. President, I would like to share with my colleagues a story of a man who has dedicated more than 27 years of his life to giving Rhode Island's baseball fans a team that they are proud to call their own. If a poll were taken asking…
Mr. President, I would like to share with my colleagues a story of a man who has dedicated more than 27 years of his life to giving Rhode Island's baseball fans a team that they are proud to call their own.
If a poll were taken asking Americans to name the best that Rhode Island has to offer, it is fair to say that most would think of the Newport mansions, or the beaches of South County, or perhaps the Providence renaissance. While all of these sites are important components of our tourism business, I would say that for native Rhode Islanders, there is an attraction in the working class community of Pawtucket that has an even more prominent place in their shared experience. Amid the tenement houses and old textile and wire mills of the Blackstone Valley stands McCoy Stadium, home to the Pawtucket Red Sox since 1973.
It is difficult for visitors to imagine now, but this minor league franchise got off to a very shaky start. In the mid-I970s, the team was struggling both on and off the field. Attendance was poor, the stadium was in terrible disrepair, and bankruptcy was looming. Players who were assigned there saw it as a necessary penance before making it to the big leagues and hoped to get out as soon as possible. It looked as if the PawSox would not last too long in AAA ball.
At that time, Ben Mondor, a man who had quit working in his late 40s after a successful career in business, was happy with retired life. Occasionally, he would catch a PawSox game, but as he has said, he didn't know a thing about baseball. When encouraged by his friend and former Boston pitcher, the late Chet Nichols, to rescue the PawSox, Ben refused. ``Why would I want to buy a baseball team?'' he asked. But Ben had plenty of experience stepping in to save struggling enterprises, and repeatedly had turned another person's failure into a successful venture. Finally, after much prompting from the brass of the parent club, he took over the team in 1977.
And so Ben went to work. He sought to instill pride in the team, and build an organization that would command both local and national respect. More than that, he wanted to give people of modest means a place where they could take their families for a night out. It didn't have to be fancy, but he would insist on a safe, family atmosphere, where young children could come and eat a hot dog or maybe a snow cone, shout ``we want a hit!'' when their favorite ballplayer came to bat, and learn to love the game of baseball.
Certainly, Ben faced an uphill climb, but he and his loyal staff embarked on a long campaign to renovate McCoy Stadium and reinvigorate the franchise. As years passed, more and more of the creaky wooden seats were replaced, the field was improved, and the concession stands and restrooms were expanded. It took time, but the attendance steadily climbed. Whole school buses filled with eager young fans poured in, not just from Rhode Island, but Cape Cod, and Connecticut, and greater Boston--even a few from New Hampshire. And Ben Mondor kept his word to the working class family: amazingly, 20 years went by without an increase in the price of a general admission ticket. Only in 1999, after a $14 million renovation and expansion of McCoy Stadium did he finally relent and agree to charge an extra dollar for tickets to a game. Even today, a family of four can still take in a PawSox game for just $20.
Ben Mondor's team gives back to the community in many other ways. There
are the free youth clinics, in which Pawsox players and coaches offer children instructions and tips on the game. There is also a Candy Hunt on Easter and roses for every mom on Mother's Day. The McCoy Stadium fireworks, which most recently lit up the sky for three nights on the Fourth of July weekend, are legendary.
After 27 years, Ben Mondor's dream has come true. A team that struggled to draw more than 1,000 fans to a game in the early days now fills a 10,000-seat park to nearly 90 percent of capacity, the best mark in the International League. One pitcher for the Boston Red Sox, recently called up from Pawtucket, praised McCoy Stadium as ``the best minor league place that I've ever played.'' It has hosted high school baseball championship games, the U.S. Olympic team and the National Governors Association. Tomorrow night, McCoy Stadium will host the AAA All-Star Game, the crowning achievement of Ben's long, successful career in baseball. And yet, my guess is that Ben takes the greatest satisfaction from knowing that on any warm summer night, he can find thousands of blue collar workers and their young children enjoying a game played by past and future big leaguers, cheering with each crack of the bat.
In the movie Field of Dreams, there is a scene in which James Earl Jones's character, Terence Mann observes, ``The one constant through all the years has been baseball.'' In spite of all the challenges that have come along over the course of three decades, the changes in the park, and the changes in our society, baseball has indeed been the one constant at McCoy Stadium. And in large measure, we have Ben Mondor and his love of the game and his love of people to thank for it.
Ben Mondor is a hero in Rhode Island, and when he steps down from running the PawSox this summer, he will leave behind a remarkable legacy. I know my colleagues join me in saluting Ben on his well- deserved retirement.