[Congressional Record Volume 150, Number 97 (Wednesday, July 14, 2004)]
[Senate]
[Pages S8115-S8116]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]


              HONORING BEN MONDOR OF THE PAWTUCKET RED SOX

 Mr. CHAFEE. Mr. President, I would like to share with my 
colleagues a story of a man who has dedicated more than 27 years of his 
life to giving Rhode Island's baseball fans a team that they are proud 
to call their own.
  If a poll were taken asking Americans to name the best that Rhode 
Island has to offer, it is fair to say that most would think of the 
Newport mansions, or the beaches of South County, or perhaps the 
Providence renaissance. While all of these sites are important 
components of our tourism business, I would say that for native Rhode 
Islanders, there is an attraction in the working class community of 
Pawtucket that has an even more prominent place in their shared 
experience. Amid the tenement houses and old textile and wire mills of 
the Blackstone Valley stands McCoy Stadium, home to the Pawtucket Red 
Sox since 1973.
  It is difficult for visitors to imagine now, but this minor league 
franchise got off to a very shaky start. In the mid-I970s, the team was 
struggling both on and off the field. Attendance was poor, the stadium 
was in terrible disrepair, and bankruptcy was looming. Players who were 
assigned there saw it as a necessary penance before making it to the 
big leagues and hoped to get out as soon as possible. It looked as if 
the PawSox would not last too long in AAA ball.
  At that time, Ben Mondor, a man who had quit working in his late 40s 
after a successful career in business, was happy with retired life. 
Occasionally, he would catch a PawSox game, but as he has said, he 
didn't know a thing about baseball. When encouraged by his friend and 
former Boston pitcher, the late Chet Nichols, to rescue the PawSox, Ben 
refused. ``Why would I want to buy a baseball team?'' he asked. But Ben 
had plenty of experience stepping in to save struggling enterprises, 
and repeatedly had turned another person's failure into a successful 
venture. Finally, after much prompting from the brass of the parent 
club, he took over the team in 1977.
  And so Ben went to work. He sought to instill pride in the team, and 
build an organization that would command both local and national 
respect. More than that, he wanted to give people of modest means a 
place where they could take their families for a night out. It didn't 
have to be fancy, but he would insist on a safe, family atmosphere, 
where young children could come and eat a hot dog or maybe a snow cone, 
shout ``we want a hit!'' when their favorite ballplayer came to bat, 
and learn to love the game of baseball.
  Certainly, Ben faced an uphill climb, but he and his loyal staff 
embarked on a long campaign to renovate McCoy Stadium and reinvigorate 
the franchise. As years passed, more and more of the creaky wooden 
seats were replaced, the field was improved, and the concession stands 
and restrooms were expanded. It took time, but the attendance steadily 
climbed. Whole school buses filled with eager young fans poured in, not 
just from Rhode Island, but Cape Cod, and Connecticut, and greater 
Boston--even a few from New Hampshire. And Ben Mondor kept his word to 
the working class family: amazingly, 20 years went by without an 
increase in the price of a general admission ticket. Only in 1999, 
after a $14 million renovation and expansion of McCoy Stadium did he 
finally relent and agree to charge an extra dollar for tickets to a 
game. Even today, a family of four can still take in a PawSox game for 
just $20.
  Ben Mondor's team gives back to the community in many other ways. 
There

[[Page S8116]]

are the free youth clinics, in which Pawsox players and coaches offer 
children instructions and tips on the game. There is also a Candy Hunt 
on Easter and roses for every mom on Mother's Day. The McCoy Stadium 
fireworks, which most recently lit up the sky for three nights on the 
Fourth of July weekend, are legendary.
  After 27 years, Ben Mondor's dream has come true. A team that 
struggled to draw more than 1,000 fans to a game in the early days now 
fills a 10,000-seat park to nearly 90 percent of capacity, the best 
mark in the International League. One pitcher for the Boston Red Sox, 
recently called up from Pawtucket, praised McCoy Stadium as ``the best 
minor league place that I've ever played.'' It has hosted high school 
baseball championship games, the U.S. Olympic team and the National 
Governors Association. Tomorrow night, McCoy Stadium will host the AAA 
All-Star Game, the crowning achievement of Ben's long, successful 
career in baseball. And yet, my guess is that Ben takes the greatest 
satisfaction from knowing that on any warm summer night, he can find 
thousands of blue collar workers and their young children enjoying a 
game played by past and future big leaguers, cheering with each crack 
of the bat.
  In the movie Field of Dreams, there is a scene in which James Earl 
Jones's character, Terence Mann observes, ``The one constant through 
all the years has been baseball.'' In spite of all the challenges that 
have come along over the course of three decades, the changes in the 
park, and the changes in our society, baseball has indeed been the one 
constant at McCoy Stadium. And in large measure, we have Ben Mondor and 
his love of the game and his love of people to thank for it.
  Ben Mondor is a hero in Rhode Island, and when he steps down from 
running the PawSox this summer, he will leave behind a remarkable 
legacy. I know my colleagues join me in saluting Ben on his well-
deserved retirement.

                          ____________________