No sporting subject short of The Masters on CBS involves as much reverent foolishness as baseball. Fortunately, I did not hear a single reference to the timeless pastoral virtues of the summer game at Greensboro’s excellent new downtown stadium last week. This left me free to focus on the real reasons to get out to a ballgame: beer and hot dogs (actually, for those of you keeping score at home, beers and one hot dog). It was warm and there was a killer view of downtown and a big crowd of people in a good mood. Also, baseball.

At least Albom and company apologized, albeit with somewhat underwhelming vigor. Meanwhile the influential Power Line blog, named by Time magazine as "Blog of the Year" for 2004, was demonstrating that independent journalism has some growing up left to do. Power Line spent many pixels denouncing as phony a purported Republican memo about the political advantages of butting into the Terri Schiavo case, thus initiating much teeth-gnashing and hair-pulling across blogdom and the cable "news" networks. Yet Power Line managed only a brief, grudging admission of partial error when the document turned out to be genuine.

But when I tell you about the drinking of the beers and the eating of the hot dog and the gazing at the scenery, well, you can take that to the bank -- any bank, not just the one with its name on the outside of the stadium. Some people, it must be said, were not drinking beer, and in fact a wholesome family atmosphere pervaded the place, which is quite kidriendly as well as beer-friendly. A large number of fans even watched the game, some concentrating on the diamond and others on the enormous video screen that towers above Eugene Street.

It was exhilarating to be there, even beyond the mood-enhancement provided by the feeble 3.2 beer that North Carolina deems fit for its citizens to drink. [CORRECTION: NC LIMIT IS 6%] (There is a campaign underway (www.PopTheCap.org) to raise the alcohol content of beer sold in North Carolina, which is one of six states that allow adult residents to quaff only weak brew.) And despite some nice hitting and fielding by both teams, the exhilaration was more than a reaction to the balletic exertions of those avatars of American innocence doing battle upon the greensward.

There was a sense of being in a place where positive things have started to happen. The good vibes begin with the new ballpark itself; the private dollars behind it were well-spent and are delivering some quick return on investment. But there is also a downtown that is well on its way to rejuvenation, and around it a city and a region that seem ready for good times again.

I stood there with my beer and looked toward the home of the new Elon law school, and at the old Wachovia tower that may soon be reborn, and beyond the grandstand to the prospective site of the huge mixed-use development at downtown’s northwest corner, and I felt happy and proud for my hometown.

Not even George Will could have messed up that moment.

Edward Cone (www.edcone.com, efcone@mindspring.com) writes a column for the News & Record most Sundays.

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