By plano 
So last weekend I finally dragged myself out to Kino Veterans Memorial Stadium, been meaning to check it off my list for ages. Let me tell you how it went down, step by dirty step.
Getting There & First Impressions
Hopped in my beat-up pickup truck around noon – big mistake, Arizona sun was already baking the asphalt. Drove about 45 minutes cussing at traffic. Found parking in Dustball Alley, seriously felt like parking on the surface of Mars. Paid the fee – ten bucks, felt fair.
Walked up to the main gates sweating bullets. First thing that smacked me? That old-school baseball vibe hitting me right in the face. Weathered brick, that classic stadium smell of hot dogs and stale beer from last night’s game. Big banners everywhere shouting about the veterans – powerful stuff, man.
Roaming Around & What I Saw
Just wandered aimlessly first. Found these memorial plaques lining the walkways, stopped to read a few. Some stories wrecked me. One was for this young guy – 19 years old – deployed overseas only weeks after his high school graduation. Made me stand real quiet for a minute.
Then I stumbled into this little tucked-away museum section inside the main concourse. Cases full of old uniforms, letters home, photos from wars way back. Was kinda dusty but real. They had an actual jeep used in some conflict parked right there – touched it, paint was chipped. Felt heavy.
- Standing silent at the main memorial wall loaded with names under that blinding sun. Someone left fresh flowers at the base. Wind picked up, blew dust everywhere.
- Overheard two old guys talking near the dugouts about buddies they lost. “Jimmy never saw his kid,” one guy rasped out. Walked away feeling like I shouldn’t have heard that.
- The old scoreboard clock was frozen in time. Felt symbolic, you know?
The Gut Punch Moment
Almost missed it. Small bench near left field. Sat down to tie my shoe, looked up. Simple engraving: “For Dad, who taught me to catch here. Miss you every game. – Mike.” Just a fan remembering his veteran dad on a ballpark bench. That one got me good. Sat way longer than I planned.
Wrapping Up & Final Thoughts
Grabbed a lukewarm soda before leaving. Wandered back to my truck through the heat haze. Felt different leaving. More than just a baseball spot. It’s rough around the edges, sure – paint peeling, signs faded, bathroom lines brutal. But the heart of the place? Man. It’s heavy. It’s personal. Makes you stop rushing and think.
Worth it? Totally. Even with the sore feet and sweaty shirt. Bring water, wear good shoes, let the place hit you. And find that bench in left field.