Joe Posnanski writes on the stadium that won’t die:

But it’s probably fair to say that no park in a half century has been quite as despised as the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome. I suspect the Metrodome itself would consider that a point of honor. Even people who love it, hate it. Well, how else can you feel about playing baseball in a football stadium with plastic grass, a baseball-colored roof, an echo and a giant glad trash bags just beyond the fence? How else can you feel about going to the ballpark on a beautiful July day in Minneapolis — there aren’t many seasons in America as beautiful as Minnesota summers — and then finding yourself watching something resembling baseball in this dank building with all the romance of a bank vault. It’s like playing Monopoly in your friends basement when it’s 70 degrees and sunny outside.

I attended a game there in the summer of 1983. It was sterile. The place was empty, and the whole park was plastic. It was by far the worst park I’ve ever seen. The only good thing about that game was that I got to see Rickey Henderson play for the first time. This is one park that will not be missed.