Why Is There A Ladder On The Green Monster? 🪜

I went sailgating in Seattle this weekend for the Washington vs. Minnesota game, and I have some thoughts. First, what is “sailgating” you might ask? Well, it’s basically exactly what it sounds like:

You’re in a boat, either anchored in Lake Washington or moored to a dock, where you do all the normal college football tailgating activities (drinking, grilling, etc.).

However, the coolest part is that you’re literally less than 100 yards from the stadium. I’ll give my full review at the end.

In today’s newsletter:

🗞 The Big Story: Why Is There A Ladder On The Green Monster?

📉 Biggest Loser: The Timberwolves’ $50M Arena Issue

🏆 Winner’s Circle: Why Do Michigan and Minnesota Play For A Little Brown Jug?

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Why is there a ladder on the Green Monster?

Well, the truth is, it actually doesn’t serve any real purpose; however, it is responsible for one of the most unique rules in all of sports.

No Free Games: When Fenway Park opened in 1912, owner John Taylor worried fans could get a free view of a game from the top of buildings beyond the left-field wall.

So instead of building outfield fences just a few feet high, as was standard at the time, Taylor built a 25-foot-high wooden fence nearly halfway around the outfield. And even after that original wall burned down in 1933, it was rebuilt:

However, this renovation presented a new problem.

Catch and Release: Baseballs kept getting stuck in the net, so the Red Sox installed a ladder so their grounds crew could climb up after batting practice or games to retrieve them.

This ladder remained in use for the next 67 years, but when the Red Sox installed seats atop the Green Monster in 2003, they no longer needed it. Still, the team opted to keep it, as a nod to the many quirks of the historic Fenway Park, but what happens when a ball hits the ladder?

Well, contrary to popular belief, the “ground rule triple” rule is a myth made up by stadium tour guides. Instead, the ladder, just like the manual scoreboard, is still in play.

And even though balls don’t hit it often, when they do, we’re all reminded of why Fenway has some of the best rule quirks in all of sports.

The Minnesota Timberwolves face a problem no other NBA team has, but they could be fined $50 million for trying to fix it. Let’s break it down.

Over the Hill: It might not look like it, but Minneapolis’s Target Center is actually the second-oldest arena in the NBA, behind only Madison Square Garden. However, while the 60-year-old Garden received over $1 billion in renovations in 2014, aside from a $145 million renovation in 2017, the Target Center has remained largely unchanged for 36 years.

Now, this might lead you to assume that fans hate the arena, but it actually consistently ranks in the top half of NBA venues, and ahead of places built decades later. Still, that hasn’t stopped the Wolves’ new ownership group from publicly calling a new arena a “necessity.”

But why?

Limitations: Target Center actually sits on less than four acres of land, giving it the smallest physical footprint in the entire NBA. Not to mention, surrounding city streets block any potential expansion, limiting major revenue drivers like premium seating and the ability to host large concerts.

That’s why the ownership group has recently said they’re “100% committed” to building a new arena. There’s just one problem with that…

Minneapolis’s mayor has already said that he wants the team to build their new arena on this mostly vacant lot right in the heart of downtown (City Center). However, while it is slightly larger than the current Target Center footprint, it’s not close to big enough to accommodate what the team’s owners are hoping for.

Wish List: Instead, it’s rumored they want to build the new arena just outside downtown (Farmer’s Market Site), where they’d have enough space to build a full entertainment district around the venue, like what the Bucks and Pacers just did.

But here’s the catch.

If the Timberwolves break their lease at the city-owned Target Center before 2035, they would face a $50 million penalty — which likely gives the city leverage over where the next arena gets built. Still, whatever happens, this is just the first inning of what will likely be a long, drawn-out political battle over the future of the NBA’s newest arena.

Why do Michigan and Minnesota play for a little brown jug?

The short answer is paranoia; however, the real answer actually reveals one of the most intense rivalries in sports.

Bad Blood: As founding members of the Big Ten, the Michigan Wolverines and Minnesota Golden Gophers have been playing each other regularly since 1892.

But it wasn’t until 1903 that the rivalry really started to heat up.

That’s because, that year, Michigan entered its matchup against Minnesota on a 28-game win streak. Meanwhile, the Gophers themselves were 10-0.

Paranoia: Evidently, this highly anticipated match-up caused Michigan’s coach, Fielding Yost, to take some extra precautions, including instructing a student manager to purchase a five-gallon water jug from a local convenience store out of fear that Gopher fans might try to contaminate his team’s drinking water.

Now, for most of the game, the Wolverines held a 6-0 lead. However, after scoring a touchdown to tie the game 6-6 with just 2 minutes left, the 20,000 fans in attendance at Minnesota rushed the field in celebration, causing the referees to call the game early and officially declare it a tie.

Game Memento: However, after rushing out of the stadium, Minnesota custodian Oscar Munson found the next day that the little brown jug purchased the day before was left in Michigan’s locker room.

And upon returning it to Minnesota’s athletic director, the Gophers decided to keep the prize and paint it with the final score to commemorate the tie. Then, a few weeks later, Michigan’s coach wrote a letter asking if the Gophers would return his jug, to which the Gophers replied: “If you want it, you have to win it.”

And even though the two schools wouldn’t play again until 1909, the tradition of the Little Brown Jug has lived on ever since, making it the second-oldest rivalry trophy in college football.

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👋🏻 Happy Friday!

First things first, I can’t imagine a more unique tailgating experience in college football than tailgating. Now, this uniqueness has its pros and cons. Pro: you’re on the water (sick), you’re overlooking the Olympic Mountain Range (beautiful), and you're less than 100 yards from the stadium (convenient).

Not to mention, traffic is minimal, and I don’t know if there’s another stadium where you can do this.

Ok, now time for the cons. Maybe I’m biased growing up in the Midwest and going to parking lot tailgates like a “normal” person, but part of the appeal of a tailgate to me is being jammed into a parking spot, throwing up a tent, setting up the tables of food, rolling out the coolers, and being a part of it all.

A rival fan walks up to your spot? Shit-talk them, then offer them a beer. See someone from high school? Avoid eye contact, then offer them a beer. There’s a sort of camaraderie that comes from standing in a parking lot for 3 hours, eating hot dogs and getting drunk with a bunch of strangers. And unfortunately, that sense of togetherness is severely diminished when everyone is on their own boat.

Not to mention, the barrier to entry for sailgating seems intentionally high (owning a boat), which made the whole experience feel less like a tailgate and more like a spectacle that most fans could only walk by and take pictures of (I imagine I’m in a lot of pictures after last weekend).

All that being said, if you can do it, you gotta try it. But I’m also more than content to spend my next tailgate in 30-degree weather while trash-talking some Iowa fans.