Walls of Municipal Stadium come tumbling down, leaving voids

Symbols are hard to come by.

That’s probably because they’re much different than what’s seen by the naked eye.

Symbols take thought. They are physical things that can represent something else.

The American flag, for example — with all its stars, colors and stripes — can be held and waved, but stands as a physical stunt double for the concept of freedom.

Most symbolic objects can be touched, but in reality, they are standing in for something that can’t be physically grasped.

And yet, there are other symbols representing the same thing … or a lack thereof.

Vacations are a form of freedom. Meanwhile, COVID face masks are perceived as the infringement of it.

That give-and-take tug-of-war takes different forms in other situations, too.

Stadium's end in photosDemolition of Municipal Stadium in Hagerstown

In Hagerstown, there was nothing more symbolic here than Municipal Stadium.

Very few things have caused more pros-and-cons banter than that green White Elephant caused for 40 years.

Yet no one may have thought about it that way until now.

In case you haven’t heard, the 90-year-plus landmark has been permanently deleted.

It’s gone. Leveled into a few piles of rubble, sitting in an open field surrounded by South Cannon Avenue, Eastern Boulevard South and Memorial Boulevard East — a confluence of coordinates pointing to nothing.

With all due respect to the pop song “Big Yellow Taxi,” the ball yard is now an unpaved paradise sitting next to a parking lot.

Like most symbols, it was always a subject of an ongoing love-hate relationship.

Plenty of seats available'Piece of history' going to auction: Public gets chance to have part of Municipal Stadium

There were a lot of conflicting opinions about the structure and its purpose. And like most heated debate, there’s a river of passion that flows through the many and varied views.

The stadium — and its future — was a symbol for many debates: Historic vs. modern; tradition vs. change; fiscal waste vs. thoughtful investment; small-town living vs. big-city aspirations; games played by local school boys vs. paid professionals.

Oh, and basic fan loyalty. Around here, it’s Orioles or bust.

This colunmist has written about that green-walled monstrosity for many years, up to and including a few times this year during the destruction process.

For me, there was something romantic about it. It embodied my love for baseball and where I worked for more than 20 years.

Keeping hope alive:Preservation organization asks to consider Municipal Stadium history before demolition

I climbed that rickety spiral staircase to the cracker box of a press box to take one of the more dangerous seats going. That little time capsule on the top of the stadium was a magnet for foul balls.

Only the guy gathering golf balls at a driving range faces a more challenging workplace in the name of sports.

I’ve also lived down the street from the old stadium for many years. This feels like I lost a neighbor. This is probably what Tim Allen’s neighbor would feel like if his fence was torn down.

This all falls in the category of — cue "Big Yellow Taxi" again — not knowing what you've got until it’s gone.

I’ve been amazed at two things about the dismantling of that history-soaked fixture.

First, how many folks had no idea it was going to be destroyed.

Second, how many folks found fond memories now that it is a memory.

Yarns are being spun by local players who had once-in-a-lifetime experiences on the same professional field that some of the game’s greats used.

It’s that 15 innings of fame.

Saying goodbye:Hagerstown's aging baseball fixture served its purpose to the bitter end

Folks are remembering the celebrities who they saw play there during the Hagerstown Suns' minor league baseball era — hall-of-famers including Jim Palmer, Willie Mays, Mike Mussina and Derek Jeter, along with the high-profile likes of Bryce Harper and Tim Tebow.

Don't forget former President George H. Bush also attended a Muni game, too. He was a man of many sports — coming after a golf outing to a baseball game with his "football" in tow.

And for every one of them, there were also some who vowed to never attend a Suns game again because the team wasn’t affiliated with the Orioles.

Go deeper and you’ll find parents who basically raised their children on the Municipal Stadium baseball experience — going to Suns games, playing around the field, meeting players — and introduced the possibilities life presents.

But in the same token, the stadium’s green walls also represented a divide that separated Hagerstown.

Some wanted a new stadium, others opposed it. The fight card of reasons was listed above.

Now it’s time to start over again. Hagerstown turns Hollywood and rolls out its own sequel.

Get ready for “Municipal Stadium II: Reaching the Summit (Avenue) for the next 90 years."

And for you who wagered on modern, change, investment, big-city aspirations and pro baseball, head to the window to cash your ticket.

Maybe this time, it will all be done better.

Maybe, just maybe, the stadium residents and city officials will learn to play well together to create something that will benefit both of them and the patrons it may draw.

These days, no one wants to give an inch to find compromise. Time will tell.

Now we are at a time where we can’t go back.

Some unknown author once said, “There are four things you cannot recover in life: The stone after it’s first thrown. The word after it’s said. The occasion after it’s missed. The time after it’s gone.”

Now, symbolically, add the stadium after it’s eliminated.