HOUSTON -- It was one of the most recognizable features of any of the newer generation of ballparks, and it recalled some of the memorable characteristics of baseball’s classic parks, such as Yankee Stadium's monuments, Fenway Park's Green Monster and Wrigley Field's ivy-covered wall.
Unlike those enduring elements, Tal’s Hill didn’t stand the test of time. For 17 seasons, Tal’s Hill -- the incline in deep center field named after longtime Astros executive Tal Smith -- provided more talking points than it did challenging defensive plays. No one was affected more than hitters, who couldn’t believe they hit the ball 435 feet to straightaway center and still didn’t get it over the fence.
“It was an interesting feature that created some conversation and uniqueness for the ballpark, and I thought it really added a dimension. Because now and then, it was really exciting and fun to see Michael Bourn or Lance Berkman go up the hill and make a marvelous catch,” Smith said.
Tal’s Hill and the flagpole that sat on it were removed following the 2016 season to make way for renovations, but the highlights of those who braved its slope live on. The sight of Berkman laughing after meandering up the incline in center field at what was then known as Astros Field to make an over-the-shoulder catch in the 2002 season was a reminder of the Hill’s quirkiness.
Smith, who helped design the Astrodome in the early years of the franchise and later served as general manager and president of baseball operations, was working for the club when then-Enron Field was built in 2000.
Smith was tasked with coming up with a unique concept for the park that would bring to mind unique characteristics of older ballparks. Smith remembered Frank Robinson navigating the hill at Crosley Field in Cincinnati without any difficulty, so he brought the incline to Houston's new park.
Tal’s Hill was born.
"Obviously, when we opened Enron in 2000, it played like a bandbox until pitchers learned to compensate and use the depth of the power alleys in center field," Smith said.
Smith said when the ballpark’s initial dimensions were discussed that the deep center-field fence helped offset the short distances of 315 feet down the left-field line and 326 feet down the right-field line.
“We knew left field and the Crawford Boxes were going to be a hitter’s haven and, as we saw in the year 2000, the pitchers learned to use center field to adjust for the short lines, particularly down left field,” he said. “It proved a good balance. It’s going to take a while to adjust. Shortening center field by that much in a ballpark that has a short left and where right field is not all that difficult, it creates somewhat of a dilemma for pitchers.”
Tal’s Hill became as much a part of Minute Maid Park as the Crawford Boxes and the retractable roof. Some fans loved it, and some hated it. Players were split as well because of the risk of injury, though no player was ever injured navigating Tal’s Hill.
It was rare for balls to be hit well enough to reach the Hill and even more rare for players to make it to the Hill and catch them or at least try to catch them. But from Berkman to Craig Biggio to Bourn, Tal’s Hill provided a unique experience for defenders.
As far as the flagpole, it famously came into play in a game against the Brewers on July 1, 2003. Brewers slugger Richie Sexson hit a towering fly ball to deep center field that struck the pole, turning a potential home run into a stand-up triple because it remained in play. The ball struck the pole about 20 feet up and would have easily cleared the fence behind it.
Tal’s Hill is long gone, but the memories live on.