Visitors invade Turner

What a travel opportunity in this cash-strapped summer vacation season. In just the last week, it was possible to get a deep dish helping of Chicago, plenty of New York wry, and a Boston experience so authentic, you needed to wear a lobster bib. All without ever leaving Turner Field. In a quirky confluence, three of Baseball's great road shows came to call in the same week --- the Cubs for one make-up game and the Yankees and Red Sox in back-to-back, three-game series. While it pleased the Braves bean counters, it also threw ownership of the stands completely up for grabs. It was a week in which south became north, and home seemed as foreign as freshman Latin. Thank heavens for the majestic, chopping Chick-fil-A cow that rules over the left-field seats. Otherwise, you'd have had no clue you were on the underside of the Mason-Dixon line. If this was to be a homestand revealing the true nature of the Braves , as many observers figured, it also was one to reveal the fractured loyalties of their customers. Baseball in Atlanta was in full identity crisis mode. "Disconcerting," said Wayne Coleman, president of the Braves 400 Fan Club, whose season tickets behind the visitors' dugout meant he was in enemy territory all week. "Disconcerting to hear so many cheering for the other team." The exact percentage of the opposing fans who were at the park last week is unknowable. No one has to sign a loyalty oath before buying a ticket. But simple observation led to estimates from anywhere between a third of the house to a half. Each night was a war of voices, with the advantage swaying from side to side according to how the scoreboard read. On Monday and Tuesday, Braves pitching shut out the Cubs and the Yankees, and ultimately shut up their huddled masses. "That's the only way to do that (muffle the visitors' cheers)," said Braves manager Bobby Cox. "They're everywhere." On Wednesday and Thursday, when Alex Rodriquez finally stopped stranding more men than the scriptwriters of "Lost," the New Yorkers broke through with a pair of victories and Turner Field shook with the chant of "Let's Go Yankees!" Welcome to the South, South, South Bronx. Then overnight, the place tilted toward New England. Red Sox pitcher Josh Beckett silenced the already whispering Braves bats. Considering the celebration in the seats, it was an upset they didn't stop the game in the fifth inning Friday to give David Ortiz the keys the city as he finished his home run saunter. By evening's end, Turner Field was just a Kennedy short of getting annexed by Hyannis Port. An attendance boost The combination of a sour economy and the Braves own diminishing returns --- no postseason appearances since their 14th straight in 2005 --- has played havoc at the turnstiles. Entering this past week, the team ranked 13th out of the 16 National League teams in attendance (25,036 average). With the flood of outsiders last week, no game drew less than 40,000. Before the week, the team's PR department put out a release to the area television and radio stations asking them to remind their listeners that none of the games was yet sold out and urging Braves fans to buy up those tickets and make themselves known during the game. They knew an invasion was imminent. And management happily accepted northern currency. Complacency is an old complaint surrounding Atlanta's Baseball fans, brought out at times when the team doesn't sell out playoff games, or when, like last week, Braves supporters have to be prompted to out-shout the visitors. You've heard it all before, and you heard it again this past week from the proud followers of Baseball's most romanticized franchises. Like from Ron Geraneo, who moved to Atlanta from Boston six years ago and still doesn't quite get it. "Where's the emotion, where's the passion (from the Atlanta fans)?" he wondered before the start of Friday's game with his beloved Red Sox. "You can find it at a college football game, I know. Face it, it's a football town." It's all new, though, to Braves pitcher Derek Lowe, having spent the previous 12 years of his career in such high-attendance venues as Boston and Los Angeles. "I wish people would come out and watch us and support us when we play other teams," Lowe said. "You can see why (Chicago, New York and Boston) have huge followings. I just think there should be more people rooting for us. "That's an advantage for those teams. They're always playing in front of sellouts, always experiencing the intensity of the game. I remember a game here earlier this year, the announced crowd was 15,000 and there probably were 10,000 people here. There's clearly not the same atmosphere as when there's 40,000. They're constantly playing in that arena. The game is magnified wherever they go." In the Cubs, Yankees and Red Sox, you have three of the major league's top six teams in road attendance, meaning they boost the gate wherever they go. Who are these people aiding the enemies? They are your neighbors, who like most of us landed here from somewhere else. With her husband and three sons, Linda Crawford moved to Alpharetta a year ago from the Chicago area. "When we say we're going to a game (at Turner Field), it's a Cubs game," she proclaimed Monday. No other details necessary. They are converts. From Bristol, Tenn., Lisa Holmes was such a Braves fan that she named her now-teenaged daughter after one of the team's great outfielders. Yet Tuesday, Murphy Holmes --- as in Dale Murphy --- wore a Yankees T-shirt. She has not, however, made any move to change her name to Ruth. Bruce Spurlin was a Braves ninth-round draft pick in 1986, who rose no higher than Class A. He drove in from Gaffney, S.C., for a couple of Yankees games in Atlanta, bringing with him a faux street sign reading "Derek Jeter Dr." They are tourists. "They go everywhere with us," said former Brave Mark Teixeira of the mobile Yankee infantry that follows his new team around as if Bruce Springsteen played shortstop. Jackie Blake, who grew up on Long Island and lives now in Delaware, got to Turner Field early to stake out a front-row spot Wednesday for Yankees batting practice. You can't get so close to your pinstriped heroes at Yankee Stadium, she said. The view was great. The math worked, too: A ticket for a first-tier seat at sold-out Fenway Park next weekend is listed at $317 on Stub Hub. For $184 plane fare and a $40 ticket, a fan could get a comparable seat to see the Sox in Atlanta this weekend. And still be in the company of many like-minded people who refuse to properly speak their Rs. Battle among the fans Interleague play brought the Yankees to Turner Field for the first time since 2000. The Red Sox returned after a three-year absence. The scene was worth the wait. The Turner Field organist got to break out all new material, ushering A-Rod to the plate with a few bars of "Lady Madonna" (Rodriguez and Madonna were tabloid fodder). The theme from Star Wars announced Yankees pitcher Joba Chamberlain. Meanwhile in the stands, there was a great battle for control. Each time the visitors tried to serenade the place with chants from Yankee Stadium or Fenway Park, the Braves fans would try to boo them into submission. "There's a constant buzz," Braves season ticket holder Vickie Gilchrist observed Wednesday. "The energy's incredible." "This is how it's supposed to be," admitted Braves 400 Fan Club president Coleman. It could be said that the Braves fans borrowed from the passion of these interlopers, shaking off for one week, at least, the ennui of a so-so season and the losses of popular players like John Smoltz and Tom Glavine. In fact, that was kind of said last week, by Braves reliever Peter Moylan: "When it comes down to it, there are more Braves fans here, and they get louder and get more excited when there's Yankees fans here." "Maybe it takes a little bit of taunting from the Yankees side to get the Braves fans going. It's nice to hear." But it is back to the more mundane work of the season soon. The rainout date for the Cubs has been satisfied. The Yankees are gone. The Red Sox leave this afternoon. Can we have our ballpark back now? Cover Story | Identity crisis