So, I got to thinking about the old Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium the other day. Now, you can’t exactly “visit” it, right? Thing’s been gone for ages, demolished back in ’97, I think. But I got curious, you know? What’s the story now? What’s my “practice” with a ghost of a stadium?
First thing I did, I tried to picture it. Not just from old photos, though I looked at a few of those too. I mean, I really tried to feel what it was like. The roar of the crowd, the crack of the bat. You had Hank Aaron hitting his 715th home run there, breaking Babe Ruth’s record. That was huge. The Braves winning the World Series in ’95, that happened there. Even the ’96 Olympics baseball games, a flash in the pan for that place, but still part of its story.
Then, I actually made a point to swing by the area where it used to stand. I know, I know, it’s a parking lot now, mostly. Part of it, anyway. Georgia State’s Center Parc Stadium is there now, which itself was rebuilt from Turner Field. And Turner Field, that was built right next door to the old County Stadium, kind of as its replacement before it even got knocked down. It’s like a Russian doll of stadiums, one eating the other, almost.
Standing there, or near there, it’s a bit like visiting a graveyard for a building. You see the new stuff, all shiny and modern in its own way. But you’re there for what’s not there. It’s a weird feeling, that. Progress, they call it. And sure, things move on. Gotta have new stuff, better facilities. But sometimes I wonder what we pave over, you know? Not just the dirt and grass, but the memories that are tied to a spot. It’s just a big ol’ parking lot space now, with a blue painted outline of where the old diamond and field were. A nod, I guess.
My “practice” here wasn’t about some fancy tech or a new gadget. It was simpler. It was about:
- Remembering what was there before.
- Seeing what it’s become, or what’s left.
- And just thinking about that change, that cycle.
My Thoughts On It All
You know, it’s funny. We build these massive things. Pour concrete, bend steel. They feel so permanent. Like they’ll be there forever. And then, one day, they’re just… not. A pile of rubble, then a puff of dust, and then it’s a new parking lot, or another stadium rising up nearby. Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium had its day, no doubt. Saw some incredible history, that’s for sure.
My takeaway from this little mental walkabout, and actually going to see the spot? It’s that the physical thing might go, but the stories, if we keep telling ’em, they stick around a bit longer. It’s like that old toolbox I got from my granddad. Banged up, rusty in spots, but it’s got history. I wouldn’t trade it for a brand new one. Sometimes the memory and the feeling of what happened in a place is the important part, more than the bricks and mortar, or lack thereof. That’s what I try to hold on to. It’s not much, but it’s something, right?
It’s not like I’m saying we should never tear anything down or build new things. That’s just plain silly. The world keeps spinning. But maybe, just maybe, it’s good to take a moment, like I did with this old stadium, and just remember what used to be there. What happened there. Keeps a bit of it alive, I guess. That was my practice for the day. Just remembering a place, Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, and what it means when such places disappear.