What Minor League Baseball Means To You

With the official demise of the 2020 MiLB season, we at Baseball America are saddened by the reality that there will be no chances to MiLB players to take steps toward their MLB dreams.

But like many of you, we’re also sad to have confirmation for what we expected–we baseball fans will not get a chance to spend warm summer nights watching future stars, wacky promotions and sharing a conversation with a newfound friend who just happened to be sitting in section 115.

So with that in mind, we asked the question today: What does Minor League Baseball mean to you?

We got some great responses. We can’t include all the responses as over 300 of you have already shared your thoughts, but here is a sampling of what people have had to say about what they are missing this season. And if you want to add your thoughts you can do so here.

Minor League Baseball means coworkers that turn to friends and become family. MiLB means a lifestyle that no one understands, but many would not change a thing about. Minor League Baseball is a job that is often not work… it is a passion for what we love to do.

— Adam Marco (@amarco_16) June 30, 2020

Minor League baseball to me is the many Savannah Sand Gnats games I went to with my cousins on vacation as a kid, and getting to share my love of baseball with various music people who don’t “get it” at Boise Hawks games on tour

— Danny Samet (@SannyDamet) June 30, 2020

MiLB is memories of my late grandparents, who used to sit with me and our family at Calfee Park in Pulaski, Va. watching the Braves rookie league affiliate play in the early 90s. A few of those guys made it to the pro team. I miss them dearly. Every time I go back, I feel them.

— Cody Dalton (@CodyDaltonSID) June 30, 2020

Not getting a view like that in the majors. pic.twitter.com/GwelbU6XeO

— Pedro Gomez (@pedrogomezESPN) June 30, 2020

It’s the feeling you get walking into any @MiLB ballpark, leaving your problems at the gates. An immediate sense of community envelops you as you grab a hot dog, beer and sit down with strangers laughing at ridiculous promotions, and revel in double plays, dingers and strikeouts.

— Emma Tiedemann (@emmatieds) June 30, 2020

Oh man, here I go. Every MiLB player I know plays bc of their love & passion for the game. They don’t do it for the $ (bc frankly, it’s not there). It’s an every day grind & is so special to witness. These guys sacrifice relationships, time with family, etc. in hopes of making it

— Claudia Faust (@claudianfaust) June 30, 2020

Personally, it was a chance to get great seats to watch high quality baseball.
Emotionally, it was a way of connecting with the community AND to watch players pursue their dreams.
Having no ball this season is heartbreaking, especially when I think of the players, umps, staff,

— onanyesfbb (@onanyesfbb) June 30, 2020

pic.twitter.com/95TffOaeVn

— Steven Davis (@StevenDavispxp) June 30, 2020

I travel for work, have for years, and on many trips, I’ve been able to explore MiLB ball parks around the country. Peanuts, a Pepsi (or a beer back when I drank) and usually a T-shirt or hat from the team store. Always such a great night compared to watching TV in a hotel room.

— Zane (@LibertyZane) June 30, 2020

Minor league baseball in Jacksonville got me into baseball. Games were on the radio at 7:05 driving home after 10-12 hour work days. It was so relaxing and exciting I went to a game at the park. $12 ticket. $10 in food. A great summer day and I’ve never looked back.

— Philly Pitchers Union Local #27 (@PhillyPitchers) June 30, 2020

Minor League baseball means the world. It’s a reminder of what makes the game so beautiful and why I fell in love with it so long ago pic.twitter.com/5mvsTEYRdA

— Antonio LaManna (@AntonioL218) June 30, 2020

Burlington, Clinton and the Quad Cities are what grew my love of the game. Seeing them all play in a five day span…I loved doing that with my dad and brother. There is nothing better than seeing the minor league atmosphere.

— Matt Hultman (@HultmanMatt) June 30, 2020

Dreams. There is a feeling when you enter a park. You can get so close you can almost relive the dreams of your childhood and imagine being on the field. You can see the dreams of the players being realized and the dreams of the kids in the stands.

— Chris Gamble (@ChrisWGamble) June 30, 2020

A place of dreams. Not just for players and coaches but for front office employees, seasonal workers, broadcasters, mothers & fathers, sons & daughters, and giant humanoid birds. Minor League Baseball is where dreams are born and grow and come true.

— Will DeBoer (@WillDeBoer) June 30, 2020

it’s baseball for everybody, not just people with cash to blow. it’s one of the few places left where you can sit down and instantly plug into a real community, see what people love. it’s cheaper concessions and fun mascots. it’s full of bloopers and jawdroppers, just like life.

— ?3SP TZDK TZDK TRDF???? (@shirAdrenaline) June 30, 2020

From the eyes of a family of a player , it is a grind, long days and nights, rain delays,lasagna with sliced processed cheese on the top, friendships, hard work, never stopping, gratitude, respect, honor, and hope that someday you make it to the big league…

— Jana Feyereisen (@mommafeyer) June 30, 2020

The chance to get my young son interested in baseball without the hassle and cost of getting to Wrigley

— Ullysses S. Pants (@UllyssesSPants) June 30, 2020

First good game I saw was a minor-league game, at Burnett Field in the Dallas river bottoms. I was hooked.

— Phil Rogers (@philgrogers) June 30, 2020

It’s summer evenings with my dad. pic.twitter.com/8JWuPa1FOw

— Apple Pie EmmyMik ?? (@emmymik) June 30, 2020

My first game Dad & I went to together was the 1976 (maybe ’77) Southern League All Star game in Savannah, Georgia at Grayson Stadium. SL All Stars vs Atlanta Braves. Was hooked after that. Remembering bat day, 25 cent beer nights, and the aroma of hot dogs and popcorn oil.

— Richie Summerville (@RSummerville) June 30, 2020

A place full of dreams and community.

Players, coaches, broadcasters, staff members, and countless others working to move up the ladder.

Kids getting a chance to get up close and personal with pros and sparking dreams of their own.

All that plus affordable fun. It’s magic. pic.twitter.com/M1FZyVD96B

— Justin Rocke (@JustinRocke) June 30, 2020

It means doing a job that I love every game ?? Watching guys work towards reaching their goals & seeing their joy when they succeed. Loving every second of getting to my MLB dream. Keeping my sanity by escaping the real world for a few hours. Plus, how can you not love this view? pic.twitter.com/UHcmLXtCc6

— Laura Wolff ???? (@laurawolffphoto) June 30, 2020

In 2016, fresh off a divorce and a failed job relocation, I needed something, otherwise, I was literally going to be living in a van down by the river. On a whim, I attended the @IronPigs job fair, and landed seasonal work in Production. It got me through and I still do it.

— Matt Miles (@MilestonesMotor) June 30, 2020

It is where the fans come first, kids fall in love with the game and the rich and poor have the same access to the game. It is the baseball melting pot.

— Jason Hochberg (@hochbergjason) June 30, 2020

A time to sit, to analyze, and to dream. To watch thunder in the distance, fireworks in the sky, and passion on the ground. A place where the irrational is beautiful. A place I really feel I belong.

That’s Minor League Baseball to me.

— Giant Futures (@sfgiantfutures) June 30, 2020

I was never a baseball fan… until my son started working as gameday staff for an MiLB team. Now, I enjoy the games… but, more importantly, there are thousands upon thousands of lives affected that *nobody* talks about. The swath is so wide.

— Mark H.® (@MarkHelotie) June 30, 2020

Ever since I was 11 my dad has taken my brother (3 years younger) and I on summer trips to watch minor league ball around the country. 15 years. Sorely missing it this year.

— Adam ???? (@rickyadams411) June 30, 2020

It means amazingly affordable professional baseball with good, available seats, getting a chance to see future major league players and coaches. And occasionally it means getting to see a scoreboard not have enough room for a big inning, like in Lancaster (vs. Rancho) in 2011 pic.twitter.com/7i6cuYboO2

— Eric Stephen (@ericstephen) June 30, 2020