“Why is it so quiet?”

I was at the Clemson/South Carolina game on Saturday night with my wife and she asked me that question midway through the game. I wish I would have had an answer for her, but I was thinking the same thing. I’ve seen more boisterous crowds at Omaha Royals games (especially during the race between the steak, corn and beer bottle) which is a very unflattering comparison. It didn’t help that the heat and humidity on Saturday was atrocious and the attendance was lacking, but it was not the first game when its been eerily quiet at Rosenblatt. The Oklahoma/South Carolina game was just as museumlike – and that was an extra inning elimination game. ESPN’s Ryan McGee tweeted Saturday, “If any of my Tweeps are at the #CWS game tonight stand up and yell “Read @TheRoadToOmaha!” It’s so quiet everyone should hear you.”

The common denominator in the games mentioned was South Carolina. Some Gamecocks fans have spent over a week in Omaha and are undoubtedly getting tired (and large credit card bills), but they need to take it up a notch or twenty once the best of three series starts.

It’s not the stadium that makes the CWS such a memorable event. It’s the play on the field and the atmosphere around the game. Without the fans it’s just not the same. Gamecock fans get out to the game and get out of your seat!

A monument to college baseball, Johnny Rosenblatt Stadium has hosted the College World Series since 1950. The allure of Omaha, the city that envelopes Rosenblatt, and the stadium have been a beacon to college baseball players for decades.

Throughout the offseason, players dream of Omaha and breakdown countless practices with Rosenblatt as their goal. Later, after the teams return to campus and the national champion shows off its trophy for adoring fans, the memories of Omaha still glitter. While they might get relegated into the back of the young ballplayers’ minds, Omaha has found a spot in all of their hearts, no matter whether they were in the winners’ bracket of the losers’.

Trevor Crowe and Chris Perez have moved on to bigger stages, leaving college behind for the major leagues and the Cleveland Indians. It’s been years and thousands of games since they played in the College World Series, but both remember 23,000-seat Rosenblatt Stadium as the biggest setting of their early careers.

As a sophomore, Crowe led Arizona to the College World Series in 2004. It was the first time he played in a stadium that had stands spanning the outfield. Even coming from a Pac-10 power, the fans and their passion left a lasting impression on Crowe.

“At Arizona, we might draw 5,000 on an entire weekend,” he said. “It’s not like the SEC, where there are 8-9,000 [fans] a game. That’s a pretty special feeling.”

The size of the stadium was impressive to Perez, who pitched for the Hurricanes in their trips to Omaha in 2004 and 2006. But more than the size of the crowd, Perez remembers the kindness of the people.

Over the course of the years and many trips to the College World Series, Miami had developed a relationship with a local high school where it always practiced and had been adopted by an elderly couple.

“They’ve been going there since Ron Fraser was there in the ‘70s,” Perez said. “They would bring us snacks and drinks after BP.”

The large, friendly crowds are at the center of the Rosenblatt debate. The College World Series has become wildly popular, but the setting remains decidedly homey. As now-retired Ohio State coach Bob Todd noted in an interview with Ping! Baseball in May, the College World Series is the NCAA’s second-biggest money maker, trailing only the men’s basketball tournament.

There are no easy decisions about closing Rosenblatt and moving the College World Series downtown. Rosenblatt represents tradition and history, while the new stadium offers progress and prosperity.

Within the Indians’ clubhouse, Perez and Crowe seem divided on the best route. Perez sees the advantages of moving downtown, while Crowe falls more on the side of keeping Rosenblatt.

“When you associate college baseball, you automatically think Rosenblatt Stadium,” Crowe said. “That’s going to be a tough project to top.”

Perez, meanwhile, has a slightly different perspective. While playing with Class AAA Memphis, he saw the Rosenblatt under the veneer of the College World Series. What he saw was a mostly empty, old stadium.

“It’s a totally different experience,” Perez said. “I’m sad to see Rosenblatt go, but it’ll be a state of the art stadium, and that’s how it should be.”

Perez, though, wonders what will happen to places like Zesto’s. A recent ESPN.com article reported the ice cream parlor makes 80-90 percent of its money during the College World Series. Zesto’s is just one of the local businesses that stand to take a hit when the $128 million TD Ameritrade Park opens three miles to the north.

But that was the price of keeping the College World Series in Omaha, its long-time home. Only time will tell if the right decision was made to abandon Rosenblatt. Maybe the tailgaters and longtime fans will find new niches in the new stadium. Maybe the College World Series will take on the corporate feel the Final Four has, and maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

In a few months, Rosenblatt will be a parking lot for the Henry Doorly Zoo next door. The dome beyond right field will still lurk in the background, only the boys of summer won’t play in its shadow anymore.

We don’t know what will happen to the fading memories of Steve Arlin, Rod Dedaux and Bob Garibaldi. But there’s no chance Rosenblatt will be forgotten by the thousands of fans and scores of players who lived their dreams under the wide-open, Omaha sky.

I was able to talk to Jerome Pena, TCU Second Baseman, shortly after his batting heroics in CWS Game 11 against UCLA.  Did we talk about his home run?  His ability to fight off pitches from UCLA pitcher Rob Rasmussen and company, and increase their pitch count?  Sure.  But, there was one burning question on my mind…what’s up with the Mohawk haircut?  “The Mohawk,” Pena told me, “I got one earlier in the season.  Coach told me to cut it off.  Then I asked him before conference tournament at the beginning of May if I could do it again.  He said ‘yeah, go ahead.’  That’s where it all started.” 

Now, why would TCU Head Coach Schlossnagle tell Pena to cut of his warrior haircut?  “He’s not a very good-looking guy (with the Mohawk)” Schlossnagle told me.  Quick to Pena’s defense was TCU superstar pitcher Matt Purke.  “I think he’s a pretty-good looking guy,” Purke said.  “He works it (the Mohawk) well.” 

What about getting the rest of the Horned Frogs to don the fabulous Mohawk?  “You can’t,” Pena told me.  “That’s the superstition with what we’re doing.”  So far, it’s working well for TCU, and for the only pseudo-Mohican on the roster, Jerome Pena.

Sitting in the Ping!Baseball luxury box at Rosenblatt Stadium at the College World Series during the UCLA vs. TCU game, we noticed something unusual in the stands.  Some guy was running in place along the third-base line against the fence by the UCLA bullpen.  Then, he would turn around and run up the stairs.  A little kid followed him.  He would repeat this ritual, over and over.  By the end of his pseudo-jog, he had about a dozen kids following him up and down the stairs (in Pied Piper fashion).  Instead of yelling at him to sit down, the crowd was encouraging him.  In fact, they were giving him high-fives, and drinks from their cups.

We tracked down this running man.  He is Alan Brace of Hesperia, California, and a UCLA fan.  He plays for the Heroes of the Diamond, a traveling baseball team of military personnel and their sons.  They are considered the “Globetrotters of Baseball,” and wear distinctive camouflage uniforms, that honor servicemen.  On the back of Brace’s jersey, in lieu of his name, is “Pearl Harbor.”   

We got a hold of Brace in between running stints, at Rosenblatt Stadium.  Our first question to him was “what’s up with the running?”  It turns out is started as a dare/bet from one of his coaches, who didn’t think he would do it.  And his minature entourage?  “A little kid joined me, and more kept coming,” Brace told us.  About a dozen kids, in all.  Bruce told Ping!Baseball he wasn’t done, either.  He promised an encore after the 7th Inning Stretch of the UCLA/TCU game.  Why?  Why not?  It’s the CWS at Rosenblatt Stadium.

Run, Alan, run!  It’s fans like you, that makes the College World Series in Omaha so special.  Check out his organization at www.heroesofthediamond.com .

A quick glance at the roster of the Oklahoma Sooners at the College World Series will lead any baseball fan to inevitably say “Hey, isn’t his dad…?”  Well yes, yes he is.  Sophomore infielders Cameron Seitzer and Garrett Buechele are sons of former Major League players Kevin Seitzer and Steve Buechele, respectively.  In fact, Kevin Seitzer played minor league ball at Rosenblatt Stadium for the Kansas City Royals’ farm club in 1986.  Now, twenty-four years later, Kevin sits in the stands at Rosenblatt and cheer on his son.  Caleb has not disappointed Dad, either.  Caleb smacked a home run, his 16th of the season, in OU’s 6-4 loss to Clemson.

Ping!Baseball spoke to Cameron after the game about being a ball player, and a ball player’s son.  The first thing we asked him, was what was it like to play at Rosenblatt, where his dad played while on his rise to the Majors.  “Just to follow in his foot steps, play in the same stadium…it’s really a cool feeling.”  Both Cameron and Garrett, whose dad played ten years in the majors (and was known for hitting solo home runs), share a common bond of being MLB sons.  “Between me and Garrett, we talk about it” Cameron told us.  But, it doesn’t affect their play, or who they are  “We’re the same old two guys.  We don’t take it any different.” 

We at Ping!Baseball like to stir up trouble when we can.  So, we asked Cameron who was a better player at his age, himself or his dad.  “Dad talks that it’s me, but I believe it’s him.”  Damn, these kids are smart these days.  He either believes that, or doesn’t want to risk losing his allowance.  Meanwhile, Kevin Seitzer sits in the stands, beaming.  A proud father of a Boomer Sooner.