Target Field, through the eyes of legends

On a tour of the Twins' new baseball palace, two of the organization's greatest players saw what life is like for a ballplayer in 2010.

A cushy clubhouse with spacious lockers and six flat-screen TVs. A dining/meeting place -- the Champions Club -- worthy of a luxury hotel. Advanced medical equipment to examine injured players on site. And on and on and on.

There was a hot tub, to be sure -- but there was no time machine.

Kent Hrbek, who played almost his entire career with the Metrodome as his home ballpark, and Tony Oliva, a vet of the Old Met, could look all they wanted. But they could never know what it would be like to call such plushness their baseball home.

Both men, though, are fine with that -- even though the modern medical amenities might have helped prolong both of their injury-plagued careers. Many of the finer touches at Target Field, which opens for real on Monday, are things neither of them -- particularly Oliva -- could have conceived of when he was playing. It's hard to miss something you never dreamed you could have.

"Now when you build a ballpark, you've got this stuff," Hrbek said, pointing to two indoor batting cages near the clubhouse. "All the amenities we've seen already ... it's stuff we didn't even think about as players back then. We were lucky to get a locker and have our uniform hanging in our locker and a guy washing our uniform."

Oliva was asked if he would have preferred to play now or back in his day. In typical fashion, he lightened the mood. "Now I can't play," he said, settling the debate. "I'm [more than] 70 years old."

Taking care of their own

Periodically, we'd lose Oliva. He'd see anyone from a stadium worker to a Twins executive and would amble over to shake a hand and share a smile. It's unclear whether he knew every person, but it was pretty clear all of them knew him.

Hrbek, who idolized Oliva growing up to the point that he had Tony O's No. 6 stitched on the shirt he wore for tee ball, marveled at Oliva's gift with people. Truth be told, both men do very well when it comes to staying connected and representing the only franchise for which either played.

The Twins, in turn, take care of their own. Pictures of memorable Twins moments and all-time greats adorn almost every interior room at Target Field. Hrbek found an old pair of his batting gloves inside a glass case. Glancing to his left at an old picture of an up-and-comer, he said, "Look at that handsome devil." Oliva, looking at that same picture -- of his younger self -- replied, "Oh man, look at that."

The tour takes us past Hrbek's restaurant/bar on the main level, while Oliva's Cuban sandwich stand isn't too far away. They talked with pride about both places, but then Hrbek pointed toward the left field line to something far more meaningful to him: the organization's retired numbers, prominently displayed. Hanging next to Jackie Robinson's 42 retired by Major League Baseball are the familiar 3 (Harmon Killebrew), 6 (Oliva), 29 (Rod Carew), 14 (Hrbek) and 34 (Kirby Puckett).

If there's one concern that came up consistently, it was that the spectacle of Target Field might overtake the fundamental reason it exists. Hrbek wondered if fans would be so enamored with the amenities that they'd lose track of the game, and also whether players would be so overwhelmed by their giant new toy that they'd lose focus.

He said a generation of Minnesota baseball fans "got soft" watching games inside at the Metrodome, and he was certainly glad Target Field didn't come with a retractable roof. Pointing at the Champions Club, Hrbek said, "If you go in there and a ballgame is [being played], the only reason you know is because the TV is on."

Players can rehab injuries, take indoor batting practice, watch video of their swings, lounge on comfortable chairs ... heck, even the cribbage board and deck of cards in the clubhouse is neatly centered on a new table (at least for now).

Pregame and postgame used to mean hunting down something to eat, Oliva said. Now food is brought to players at the park.

"It's catered so much to the player comforts before they even step on the field," Hrbek said.

"Guys like Tony ... they had nothing. Maybe a sandwich after the game," Hrbek said.

Oliva, who was constantly talking about food or wondering where he could grab a beverage on the tour, countered with this: "Sandwiches? Sandwiches?" Maybe some potato chips or a hot dog, he said.

Final thoughts

They joked about some of the amenities -- "Don't have much need for these," Hrbek said while pointing at various cardio equipment in the weight room -- and wondered at times about the life of a ballplayer in 2010 being a little too cushy.

But any concerns were minor compared to the joy the park clearly gives both Hrbek and Oliva.

That seems to be pretty close to the general consensus on the eve of Target Field's grand opening.