Remembering My “Childhood’s 2nd Home” – The Kingdome

A Sporting News column in the early 1980s ranked the Major League Baseball home stadiums. The writer gave his grade and a brief description of the ballpark.

Seattle’s Kingdome - came in near the bottom.

The columnist compared the Mariners' home to a dark and dreary indoor parking garage. While he may not have liked it, I believe there was no better home-field advantage than the incredibly loud Kingdome. It was so deafening that opposing quarterbacks struggled to call plays in the huddle. At one point, the NFL even penalized the Seahawks for noise deemed "too loud."

The Seahawks maintain a strong home-field advantage at Lumen Field. Paul Allen noted that the design of the upper-deck roofs amplifies crowd noise by funneling it down onto the field.

The first time I remember seeing the Kingdome was from a Seattle ferry.

I was about 7 or 8 years old. Looking at the grey clamshell building, I thought—and this is hilarious to share—that the Kingdome was an airport. I thought this because the roof of the Kingdome seemed to me like a place where people's luggage would slide down to airport travelers.

I didn’t know at the time that The Kingdome would become my favorite place to visit and enjoy in the coming twenty-plus years. Yes, I was there to see Edgar’s “Double,” which scored Ken Griffey Jr. That memory rivals the very first time I visited the “second home” of my youth. 

Memories from my first Mariners game visit as a 9-year-old boy

I remember handing my ticket to the ticket taker. Behind him stood a person with a booming voice that seemed to resonate in everyone's ears, shouting, “Get your programs!” I decided to buy one. The scent of a game day program was delightful—fresh from the printer. There was a magical atmosphere in the air.

The date was July 2nd, 1977. The M's played the Milwaukee Brewers. I don't remember much about the game, but walking into the dome for the first time is like a movie in my mind.

After getting the program, the hike up the Kingdome rampway began. It was some serious work to reach the 100 level. Imagine having to trudge up to the 300 level—something I will come to do countless other times in the future.

Once finally inside, I would gaze upon the orange-and-white Kingdome “maps” that showed me where to walk to reach my assigned aisle number.

Then I saw it.

Walking past one of the aisle entries into the seating area - I first saw the exciting view into the lit-up interior of the Kingdome. 

I can’t say how exciting it is to see this place for the first time.

The Kingdome walkway was filled with the smells of hot dogs, pretzels, fries, popcorn, and other food items. The souvenir stands, with hats, plastic batting helmets, shirts, jackets, pennants, and souvenir magazines, were like heaven to an elementary-aged Mariner fan.

When the aisle on my ticket lined up with the aisle number in the hallway, I finally walked in. The moment was full of awe and amazement. 

One of my favorite memories of the Kingdome was when my 6-year-old sister and I attended a Mariners game.

I was only 14 years of age at the time. Heidi and I made the colossal hike up to the 300 level and sat by the yellow right-field foul pole.

Reggie Jackson was making his debut in a California Angels uniform that night.

The hype for the game had the Kingdome packed to near capacity. Walking out after the match, Heidi held on to my back pockets - then, somehow, her little hands slipped and let go. 

I looked back into the immensely crowded stadium hallway—for a brief moment, little Heidi disappeared from my sight. It was probably only ten seconds that I couldn’t spot her, but it felt like an eternity. Then Heidi reappeared. I could see the fear in her eyes. I firmly held onto her hand for the rest of the trip through the hallway and down the outside ramps.

Almost twenty years later, it was announced that an outdoor stadium would replace the Kingdome.

The Kingdome was to be torn down. At the time, I was living in Long Island, New York. I decided to fly in and watch my favorite old stadium fall with Heidi, then a 23-year-old living in Poulsbo. When her phone rang, we were planning on leaving for the Bainbridge Island ferry terminal to watch the implosion in person. Her boss at the furniture store asked her to cover a shift for someone who called in sick.

“I’m sorry, but I'm gonna have to take this shift.”

I assured her that it was okay and suggested we watch the final moments of Kingdome on TV before she had to drive to work.

We held hands and watched the Kingdome come down dramatically. Tears streaming down my face, I held her hand tight, just like I once did in a crowded Kingdome hallway.