In a recent post, Andrew detailed the amenities changes being made at Target Field for next season. Among them will be an expanded kids’ play area, and thread commenters noted that the existing version is rather lame. Well, I’ve got my own idea for how to perfect it.
One local casino has a full-on Baby Brig. The Twins should get one, too.
The casino version is called “Happy Time Play Zone” or something similar, but since this casino has an tropical waters theme, I’m saying it’s a Baby Brig. There’s a casino employee or two in attendance to make sure little Bobby or Susie doesn’t get a Lego stuck in their nose.
(Kids do crazy s**t like that. For reference, ask your parents, because you probably did your fair share. I once convinced my brother that if we made good enough superhero costumes, we’d be able to fly. We jumped off the second story of our apartment building. We did not fly. Fortunately, no bones were broken in the making of this childhood anecdote.)
The reason they have a Baby Brig is fairly obvious. Grownups visit a casino/hotel to eat, swim in the pool, gamble, and/or make whoopie. Two of these are inappropriate activities around children. If you can buy an hour of day care, that gives you some grownup-person time.
Now, a baseball stadium is different. Generally, grownups there are not going to be having sex and gambling, although that sounds like a Saints promotion I’d attend. They mostly just want to watch the game & chat & consume ballpark yummies.
Still, what parent doesn’t need downtime from their kids? None I’ve ever met. Of course, it’s fun to have kids ask questions about the rules (because baseball’s rules are insanely bizarre) but nobody enjoys this sequence:
“Bobby, do you have to go to the bathroom?” “Nope.” “I think you need to go to the bathroom.” “Nope.” Pause 60 seconds. “Mom, I really have to go to the bathroom.” “Okay, just give me a second.” “I need to go NOW!”
So I think Target Field should have a Baby Brig. Include it as part of the ticket in the Family Section. One free medium soda, one free hot dog, one free hour of kid-less bliss. They can give the parents little beepers, like restaurants do these days; if your kid starts bashing another kid with Thomas The Tank Engine, cue beeper.
There is always the sad possibility that some parents will drop a youngling at the Baby Brig and then just bolt, making a mad dash for the airport and a ticket to Lichtenstein. In these cases, I’m thinking: farm system.
The Twins could be the first baseball team to adopt toddlers and groom them in the organizational philosophy. Sure, most wouldn’t be world-class athletes, yet you always need groundskeepers, number crunchers, ticket people on the phone, somebody to keep Joe Mauer‘s cannibalism under wraps. Many different skillsets for many different children.
Baby Brig, Twins. Minnesota parents will be eternally grateful.