The Greatest Comebacks of All Time

New Ballparks Have Been the Catalyst For Some of Baseball’s Greatest Revivals

By Peter Handrinos
 

When fans think of baseball comebacks, there’s no shortage of fantastic examples.

There are the ’51 Giants, coming back from a 13 game deficit against the hated Brooklyn Dodgers to win the National League pennant on Bobby Thomson’s legendary home run. There are the ’64 Cardinals, coming back from their seventh place to eventually win the NL pennant and the World Series. And there’s the unforgettable Bronx Zoo Yankees of ’78, storming back from 14 back to force a heartbreaker / tiebreaker against the doomed Red Sox.

Those comebacks were about great baseball players, great teams, and great memories. They were special. But they weren’t close to being the greatest comebacks of all time.

Nope, the greatest comebacks ever came around in the last 15 years, and they’ve been about a new generation of powerhouse teams, playoff runs, packed attendance, and electric fan excitement. These comebacks haven’t been just about winning ball games, but about winning a whole new energy for the game of baseball.

Baseball’s comeback spark? It’s been the all new ball parks that have made it on to the Major Leagues scene since 1992.

Sixteen teams have built gleaming new baseball-only venues for themselves since Camden Yards opened. As with all comebacks, the changes of scenery have translated to big winning turnarounds.

To compare the before- and after- effect of the new stadiums, take a look at the standings for the thirteen new ballparks that have opened in the 1992-2000 period (the new stadiums in Cincinnati, San Diego, and Philadelphia have all been on the scene less than three years, so they can’t count). Compare the previous five years to, roughly, the first five years in their new ball parks. ‘Roughly’ because Milwaukee and Pittsburgh have had only four full years in their new digs:

The new ball parks translated to big gains for six teams (San Francisco, Seattle, Anaheim, Cleveland, Baltimore, and the Chicago White Sox), made no real changes for three (Atlanta, Texas, and Toronto), but couldn’t save the downward spiral for the other four clubs (Milwaukee, Pittsburgh, Houston, and Detroit).

On average, the new stadiums have translated to more than an additional four wins per year for their tenant ball clubs. That might seem relatively small at first glance, but four games is well within the margin that can make all the difference between a playoff team and an also-ran-  the boost translated the teams’ pre-stadium average of 80 wins (a .495 winning percentage over 162 games) to a post-stadium bump of 84 wins (.520).

With some help from the new wildcard slots and three-division format, the improved teams of the new stadium era often made that big move to more winning seasons and playoff spots. It turns out that the new ball park teams had a 45% rate for winning seasons in the five years before the venue change. That went up to a 70% rate. The new ball park teams had a 22% rate in playoff appearances in the years before the new fields, and that went up to 42%.

All those turnarounds were part of the Majors’ remarkable, if misunderstood, competitive balance in the 1990s and new millennium. Even those teams which didn’t benefit from immediate improvements gained in their long-term outlook;  fan-friendly new ballparks meant that the potential attendance rewards for a future team turnaround were, quite literally, built into the franchises’ foundations.

The new ball park’s effect for October baseball were especially remarkable in places like Chicago and Cleveland.

The White Sox hadn’t won a playoff spot in eight years before the New Comiskey Field came on to the scene in 1991, and had only one winning season in the five previous years. In their new venue, the Sox improved by an average of eleven games per year for five years, enjoyed five straight winning seasons, and made the playoffs twice. For their part, the Cleveland Indians went from decades of futility to five straight years of October baseball in their new Jacobs Field. Similar stories came up in Baltimore and San Fran.

With all the extra wins and playoff appearances in those comebacks, the new ball parks’ attendance generated some eye-catching numbers. Consider what happened to average per game attendance in the new stadiums:

On the whole, the lucky thirteen ball clubs who made the ball park change went from an average of 24.5 thousand fans per game to an average of 34.9 thousand, an overall attendance increase of over 43%. It was absolutely remarkable-  opening the gates to a new ball park in the modern era meant an average of over 10,000 additional fans per game, and that’s game in, game out, for the first full five years after the debut.

‘Build it and they will come’, it was once said.

The effects varied. Atlanta, in the midst of a still-ongoing streak of playoff appearances going back to ‘91, was the only club that was almost unaffected. For the rest of the venues, the new ball park honeymoon meant an extended, five year run of packed houses. For a new powerhouse like Cleveland, it meant a historic, previously unimaginable streak of 455 straight sellout crowds from 1995 to 2001. Even teams that couldn’t manage improved records in their new fields saw their attendance rise.

The new ball parks, indeed, were on the forefront of a remarkable, industry-wide revival in the industry’s overall attendance and revenue. Even when accounting for the ‘94 strike’s devastating effect, the 1990s saw the Major Leagues’ overall attendance increase by 30% (from 50.4 million in 1990 to 70.3 million in 2001). The Majors’ already-great revenues surged by 157%, going from 1990’s $1.4 billion to 2001’s $3.6 billion number.

The main cause for the new ball parks’ comeback in new wins and fans was no great secret. It was about money. The wildly popular looks, design, convenience, and amenities in the new ball parks cost their builders a tidy sum, as did their teams’ steadily rising payrolls. In return, the owners asked fans to shell out for hikes in prices and concessions. For towns like Houston and San Francisco, it meant initial price hikes of 50% to 75%, respectively. In the end, the bets worked-  the fans evidently thought the upgrades, on and off the field, were worth it. Baseball’s retained its proud status as the most affordable American team sport all the while.

Now, all of the above paints a pretty rosy picture, but it’s not the only part of the new ball parks’ story. It should be said that, while the new ball parks were extremely helpful to their teams, they weren’t any kind of permanent cure-all.

Many of the new-stadium teams didn’t have the smarts to take advantage of the money to be found in their new ball parks-  fans soon learned that a beautiful new address couldn’t instill competence into front offices in Pittsburgh or Detroit. Winning, ultimately, is what matters to most fans, no matter how beautiful the building, and that winning depended on generous owners and bright executives.

As the new venues’ novelty wore off, even well-managed teams saw drop offs in their records and fan responses. It wasn’t any great surprise;  comebacks don’t last forever. The remarkable part of baseball’s new ball parks was just how many greater teams, greater attendance, greater revenues, and happy fans were produced in the meantime. The remarkable part was how long and sweet those baseball comebacks turned out to be.