Ryan Flynn, 8, of Middleton, keeps his eye on the game with his glove ready for any stray balls during the North Shore Spirit game against the Nashua Pride in Lynn.
(Patricia McDonnell for The Boston Globe)
In the family Spirit
From free T-shirts to a high school color guard, for North Shore baseball team, it's all about the kids
Ryan Flynn, 8, of Middleton, keeps his eye on the game with his glove ready for any stray balls during the North Shore Spirit game against the Nashua Pride in Lynn.
(Patricia McDonnell for The Boston Globe)
Baseball is very much a kids' game, and the folks at the North Shore Spirit understand that.
In fact, it's their business strategy.
There are kids all over the Fraser Field complex in Lynn, from the fried-dough stand to the baseball diamond:
Kids on the Spirit Dream Team that run out along with the players like little "Mini-Mes" during pregame intros for the Canadian American Association of Professional Baseball franchise.
Kids from Lynn English High School's award-winning JROTC color guard who put on their crisp uniforms and march just out in front of the mound presenting their arms and holding their flags.
Kids hanging over the railing a few rows behind the home dugout, waving their red, white, and blue Spirit pennants and screaming for the team mascot "Slugger" to come by, particularly with a free T-shirt.
In a market in which the Boston Red Sox clearly rule, and the Sox are one of three other professional teams just a short drive away -- joining the Single A Lowell Spinners and the independent Nashua Pride -- the Spirit have to take a different approach.
In addition, a number of teams have come and gone from Fraser Field (see: the Lynn Red Sox, Lynn Pirates, Seattle Sailors, and Massachusetts Mad Dogs). All of the franchises came in with the desire to be the team on the North Shore, but were not always successful.
So owner Nick Lopardo and the Spirit do what any small-town baseball team does -- promotions, contests, and giveaways -- but they try to do it better. Lopardo has sunk nearly $10 million into stadium renovations since he took over the team in the winter of 2002. The Spirit focus es on families and tries to make its show the best possible.
"Everything we do here is family-oriented," said Brent Connolly, the team's general manager. "There's a lot of ways we could make money in here, but it wouldn't go along with the family theme, so we don't do it."
Indeed, it's the stuff that drives traditionalists nuts. Dancing on the dugouts between innings. Endless T-shirt tossing into the crowd. A pop radio station blaring from the public-address speakers during the game.
But in the end, the team isn't trying to draw a crowd full of grumpy old men.
"We try to do as much as we can for the kids because they absolutely love coming to the park and watching us play," said Mike Torres, a 28-year-old infielder/outfielder originally from Brooklyn, N.Y. "We just try to create that atmosphere all day long."
Torres, hitting a team-high .357 with three home runs and 31 RBI, is in his first season with the Spirit and he's quickly becoming one of the faces of the team, hearing his name being called more and more by those kids hanging over the railing by the dugout.
"Here it's very one-on-one," he said. "They've got fans here that know players' names. They know players' stats. They talk to the players. The players talk to them. It's just a different situation. It's not like the Red Sox, but I love playing here."
The Can-Am League itself is a different animal. The level of skills falls somewhere between Single A and AA in Major League Baseball's farm system. With each team's salary cap somewhere in the $90,000 range (or about the amount Sox slugger Manny Ramirez gets paid for every two at-bats), many of the players are here for more than the money.
A number of players are former college standouts who are trying to catch the eye of teams affiliated with a big-league organization. Other players had their chance, but are trying to make their way back from an injury. Then there are the veterans, hanging on to their dreams, attempting to play as long as their bodies will allow.
So they slap hands with the kids, run the ball-on-a-string trick from the dugout, and sign tons of autographs.
"It's a family here," said Carlos Rodriguez, a 30-year-old outfielder from Tampa. "We want them to come to the stadium and we can show them a positive way. You know, they can stay out of trouble, out of the negative things on the street and see all the positive things at the stadium."
When the Spirit first arrived in Lynn, the team drew 100,000 spectators and lost $1.8 million in the first season, Connolly said. The team lost $1.7 million in its second season, $700,000 the next, and $600,000 last year. This summer, Connolly said, the team is averaging about 2,300 fans, compared with 2,500 last season, and is looking to break even.
But it's still a long way from being Lynn's team rather than just another team that plays in Lynn.
"I would like to see the city more involved," said manager Vic Davilla, a Georgetown native. "I think this could be a great thing if they came together and said, 'You know what, what Nick Lopardo's doing here is not a joke, it's a great thing.' Hopefully in the near future the city can say let's re evaluate the situation because we want this team to stay here."
A recent game between the Spirit and the Sussex Skyhawks was scoreless as Michael Broderick split some chicken strips and french fries with his 10-year-old son Gavin. He's a single father who lives in Everett and works at the MBTA stop near the field. The price of a Fenway ticket is out of his range, so he does his best to make it to Fraser Field to see eight or nine Spirit games a year, just him and his son.
"It's nice," Broderick said. "It's not the Red Sox, but it's good baseball. It's competitive. We enjoy it."![]()



