It is not called Ron Tonkin Field anymore, and good riddance to that automile branding: It's now Hillsboro Ballpark, and it's now likely as good as it's going to get.
Vacated by its A-level minor-league team earlier this year, Hillsboro Ballpark jumped right to the pros and signed a deal with the Athletes Unlimited Softball League (AUSL) and their new Portland Cascade. This professional league brings ESPN and CBS Sports to town multiple days a week, puts national champion and Olympic players on the field on a nightly basis, and, oh yeah, actually sells out the place.
I married into softball (spouse of a scholarship athlete and DII strikeouts leader), so I jumped at the opportunity not to trek to Eugene, Corvallis or Seattle (at least for softball) and watch games here. As it turns out, the previous tenants were underusing the building, if anything.
The Cascade came in and immediately rolled in food carts including Mister Tacos, Rosa's Churros, and Papa Murphy's (still not sure how that works) and set up an outpost of The Sports Bra. They also seemed to institute city pricing, as concessions costs look largely in line with what you'd see at restaurants on Imbrie.
The gameday experience is even vastly improved. At the pro level, there are still nightly autograph sessions for the kids. Pitchers still give away game balls, and fans are quickly booting stale baseball standbys like "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" for the more Cascade-range appropriate "Ain't No Mountain High Enough."
And it isn't "a game of fathers and sons": All of Hillsboro is here. Yes, there are still the suns-out-guns-out dads in hunting shirts and Omega Morgan caps, but they're bringing daughters who can do the Hot To Go Dance. There are hair colors beyond brown, black, blonde and grey. There are jerseys, but there are rows of friends dressed for the club. There are rows of friends who were on softball teams in the '70s and '80s, and pairs killing time before karaoke night at HBG.
Pride night here wasn't a promotion: It was a vibe.
I genuinely used to hate coming to this park because the crowd treated it like a baseball library that required silence and seriousness at nearly all times. The largest crowds were for fireworks and fireworks-adjacent holidays (the 4th, Father's Day), and the whole experience seemed joyless and overlong.
If anything, seven innings of the Cascade seems too short, and Cascade management deserves a ton of credit for transforming this mausoleum into someplace memorable and minimizing the amount of time the poor folks in the left field seats spend staring into the sun. read more