From total eclipse to first pitch, Guardians’ home opener a sight for sore eyes

From total eclipse to first pitch, Guardians’ home opener a sight for sore eyes

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CLEVELAND — Two hours before the first pitch of his first home game in front of his new fan base, Guardians manager Stephen Vogt stood on the infield grass at Progressive Field, peered past the upper deck through solar-filtered glasses and mouthed the words to Len’s “Steal My Sunshine.”

From dawn to pseudo-dusk to first pitch, Cleveland was the center of celestial attention on Monday, with downtown attracting visitors from across the globe to watch the sun, moon and Earth make once-in-many-generations magic. For the first time since 1806 and the last time until 2444, Cleveland fell in the path of totality for a solar eclipse — and it fell on the same day as the Guardians’ home opener against the Chicago White Sox.

go-deeper

GO DEEPER

Total Eclipse of the Park: The Guardians’ home opener coincides with a rare solar eclipse

An afternoon traditionally marked by pomp and circumstance was overshadowed by a shadow for four minutes. Mother Nature granted Cleveland ideal early-April weather for the occasion, too. With clear skies and temperatures in the 60s, viewers from Progressive Field to the shores of Lake Erie could witness the eclipse’s entire two-and-a-half-hour progression from bright to dark to bright again.

At 3:12 p.m. ET, as faux nightfall descended upon the ballpark and the temperature plunged, the PA announcer bellowed, “Totality is nearly here.” Fans shouted from the two levels of The Corner bar in right field, an area overflowing with people seeking the optimal angle of the eclipse. The sequence unfolded above the stadium lights on the upper deck overlooking the third-base line. Fans also flocked to the stairwell on the back side of the ballpark for a view that included the Hope Memorial Bridge and the Cuyahoga River.

As totality approached, José Ramírez, the Guardians’ All-Star third baseman, finally stood up from the home dugout bench, where he had been thumbing through social media posts on his phone. His teammates had gathered on the infield grass to watch the proceedings. Ramírez leaned over the blue-padded railing and snapped photos of the spectacle overhead.

At 3:15, with Pink Floyd’s “Eclipse” playing on the ballpark speakers at the moment of maximum eclipse, it sounded as though the Guardians had delivered a walk-off win in October. A deafening roar and a darkened sky created as eerie and surreal a scene as a stadium has hosted.

Triston McKenzie, Cleveland’s starting pitcher who was clearly elbow-deep in scouting reports, walked out to the field at that time and wondered why it was already dark. “Ohhh, the eclipse,” he said.

It took assurance from several teammates to convince Hunter Gaddis he could safely remove his glasses during the period of darkness.

Within a few minutes, the sky brightened, the temperature recovered and players returned to the clubhouse. Cleveland fans broke into a “José!” chant as they waited another hour for the eclipse to officially end, full sunlight to return and pregame introductions to begin.

The Guardians coordinated with city officials and NASA experts over the last two years to determine the best approach to a day lacking precedent. They opted for a 5:10 p.m. first pitch instead of their other option, 7:10 p.m., as they preferred incorporating the eclipse into their plans. So, the customary schedule for the opener was interrupted by a two-hour science lesson. They shifted batting practice up in the schedule so those shagging fly balls wouldn’t have to wear solar-filtered glasses as they patrolled the outfield. At the eclipse’s peak, the Guardians paused admission to the ballpark for 20 minutes.

NASA astronomy communicator Josh Roberts provided periodic insight on the scoreboard throughout the afternoon. The team also displayed regular updates of the NASA telescope feed from other locations in the path of totality, including Kerrville, Texas; Indianapolis; and Mazatlán, Mexico. Total solar eclipses occur every 18-24 months, but often over vast oceans or uninhabited areas. On Monday, the path of totality stretched from Mexico to Maine.

At the North Coast Harbor, on the front lawn of the Great Lakes Science Center and The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, NASA set up one of three hubs for the day for live broadcasts (they did the same in Kerrville and Indianapolis). Josh Dobbs, the former Browns quarterback who also happens to be a rocket scientist, made an appearance, as did astronaut Stephen Bowen. People flocked to the NASA Village when its gates opened at 10 a.m. for an array of space-themed activities and to secure a spot on the lawn to take in the view. Speakers throughout the area near Lake Erie blared a space-themed playlist that included Toploader’s “Dancing In The Moonlight,” David Bowie’s “Space Oddity,” Journey’s “Wheel In The Sky” and Manfred Mann’s “Blinded By The Light.”

That last tune is no joke; the Guardians regularly reminded fans to wear the solar-filtered glasses they handed out at the ballpark entrances. The Guardians even had a team staffer send a message to players urging them to do the same. The last thing they needed, a team official said, was a player landing on the injured list with a scorched retina.


A view from the field during the eclipse’s peak. (Jason Miller / Getty Images)

Before he managed his first home game with the Guardians, Vogt recalled viewing an eclipse while attending elementary school in Visalia, Calif., about 30 years ago. He remembers the shop teacher supplying students with welding goggles.

His players weren’t sure what to anticipate. When pitcher Tanner Bibee realized the eclipse would cause a two-hour break in pregame preparation, he quipped, “No wonder we’re stretching so early.” Logan Allen was originally scheduled to pitch Monday for Cleveland before the club’s series finale in Minnesota was rained out on Sunday. That pushed Allen back a day and meant more free time on Monday afternoon. He initially said he wasn’t sure what he’d do before learning he could view the eclipse from the field.

Left fielder Steven Kwan, who tried on a pair of solar glasses during an interview with reporters, wondered what an at-bat would look like during the madness. He surmised pitchers would benefit from the dwindling sunlight.

Said Vogt of the eclipse: “That was really cool. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Michael Brantley and Corey Kluber, a pair of longtime Cleveland All-Stars who each retired over the winter, returned to Progressive Field for tandem ceremonial first pitches. They were treated to a showcase in the sky, too.

“It was kind of crazy how dark it gets,” Kluber said.

“I really loved it,” Brantley added. “I didn’t know what to expect either, but then we went completely dark. It was sick.”

(Top photo of Stephen Vogt: Mike Lawrie / Getty Images)



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