In memoriam:
Providence College Baseball
1923-1999 

(click the ribbon for
more information)

O Omaha

Sung to the tune of "O Canada"
Lyrics by Dr. James Brey, PhD, Drew Hankin, and Robb Van Eck

click here for music

O Omaha! The Noles are going there! On to Rosenblatt, the War Chant's in the air. With glowing bats and great defense, Our pitching's on a tear. And the way it's going It looks as if Coach Martin's walking there. O Omaha, Garnet and Gold Oh Omaha, let's win the whole darn thing Oh Omaha, let's win the whole darn thing.

 Excerpts from Ode To Omaha by Steve Marantz

    The lights of Rosenblatt Stadium, home of the College World Series, are visible crossing the Missouri River, westward into Omaha on Route 275, Veterans Memorial Bridge. Shimmering at night above dark foliage, the lights caught my eye coming with my father, brother and sister to a new home. In the tumbleweed summer of 1963, a ballpark was promising.

    A hometown is where you hang your heart, and even though I am not a native, I like calling Omaha my hometown. The College World Series is one reason, not only because it is charming, quaint and fun, but because, like me, it appreciates Omaha, too. This is less about baseball than the nurturing of baseball. Hundreds of major-leaguers -- most prominently Dave Winfield, Barry Bonds, Will Clark and Robin Ventura -- left marks on the CWS. All the great moments and players have one thing in common -- Omaha, baseball's fertile crescent.

    It used to be run just above the level of a county fair. Today it is spiffier, the old stadium dolled up as if auditioning for the major leagues, national television crew injecting an air of self-importance. The vendors look more honest. Souvenir and T-shirt stands, inevitably, are thick. But none of the changes alters the amiable essence of the event. Perhaps that is because of one constant -- the site. No NCAA rule states that the event belongs permanently to Omaha. College championships typically float from city to city, year to year. Cities and stadiums try to pull the CWS away from Omaha, and a few -- Minneapolis, Oklahoma City, Phoenix, New Orleans -- come close. But the marriage endures -- Omaha and the CWS cling to one another as if huddled against a prairie twister. Part of the reason lies in Omaha's isolation, part in its adaptability.

    Omaha is a bit like Brigadoon, the mythical Scottish village that appears every hundred years, the difference being that Omaha appears once a year, conjured by ESPN and CBS. "CWS host" is a thin identity, but it's better than none at all. Many coastal denizens simply cannot place Omaha, or anything of the Midwest between Chicago, Denver and Dallas. Coastal indifference is an affront to Omahans; indeed, it is the basis of Midwesternism, a state of mind of which holds, virtuously, that life on the prairie is better -- cleaner, safer, healthier -- yet unjustly ignored.

    Let's face it. Omaha is not celebrated in popular culture. Yes, it's got an image problem -- it lacks one. But on the whole I'd rather be in Omaha. It's got soul, duende and plenty of free parking. Omaha is not a great city -- as measured by size, glamour and attitude. But it is a good city, honest, robust and graceful. The highest compliment I can pay Omaha is that it is comfortable in its skin. Out here, in rolling hills hard on the edge of prairie, Midwesternism -- friendliness, ease of movement, human scale, caste mobility, optimism -- reaches an apogee.

So does college baseball, once a year, every year.

Steve Marantz is a senior writer for The Sporting News.

Back To The Songbook Cover