Daedalus is remembering Riverfront Stadium, or The House That Pete Built, as she calls it.
I have fond memories of that old monstrosity, as well. Many of us were introduced to the Reds in Riverfront. We watched our games as kids up in the red seats. Those are good memories, regardless of how the stadium paled in comparison to the luxury of Great American Ballpark.
My parents — for this, I’ll always be indebted — took my brother and I to Riverfront at least once every summer. That was a big deal to us, since we lived four hours away. Many years, as my brother and I learned how to beg, we went as often as we could, around Little League games and school activities.
Yeah, it was a dump. But it was our dump.