Lincoln Saltdogs
Dad and I visit Haymarket Park, home of the University of Nebraska Cornhuskers and the independent Lincoln Saltdogs, for a wet Sunday ballgame.
Rain poured down in earnest as we pulled into the parking lot at Haymarket Park. I dropped Dad off at the front with an umbrella, then went back to find parking. I pulled into a space and hurried to get a jacket on, pack my things, and prepare for shooting video — the downpour making everything feel urgent.
I met Dad as the gates opened, and we shuffled into the covered concourse of Haymarket Park, home of the Lincoln Saltdogs of the independent American Association of Professional Baseball, and also home to the University of Nebraska Cornhuskers during the spring. It opened in 2001 at a cost of nearly $30 million.
The Saltdogs were formed in 2001 when the Madison Black Wolf — an independent Northern League team playing where the Madison Mallards now play — were sold and moved to Lincoln after the 2000 season. And let’s get one thing out of the way here: There is no such thing as a “saltdog” — the name references the salt flats and salt marshes in Lincoln. The saline is from ancient inland sea deposits that rise to the surface through the groundwater.
After the 2005 season, the Saltdogs (along with the St. Paul Saints, Sioux City Explorers, and Sioux Falls Canaries) left the Northern League to form the American Association, now the pre-eminent independent baseball league in the Midwest. Lincoln has won just one league title in that time, in 2009. Alumni include Kevin Mitchell, Pete Rose, Jr., and a couple of dozen guys who had brief Major League Baseball careers.
The Saltdogs averaged 3,074 fans per game in 2025, fifth-best in the 12-team American Association. This wet Sunday crowd could be counted in the dozens.
Dad and I took refuge in familiar surroundings — a minor league team store.
Hats and jerseys featured the vicious saltdog, Lincoln’s role as the state capital, and the team’s straightforward Latin identity, Los Saltdogs.
I grabbed an angry dog, Dad did the same, and we were off to our seats.
When we picked our seats a few months before, I worried about the midday sun. We’ve had to abandon good seats in the past due to unrelenting afternoon summer sun — with the Charlotte Knights, Winston-Salem Dash, Spokane Indians, and Bowie Baysox. So I got the only seats in the house that offered reliable midday shade: up in the rooftops — like the right side of the photo here, but on the first-base side. Little did I know that it would be offering us protection from the rain.
From our bird’s-eye perch, we had a good view of Memorial Stadium — home of Cornhuskers football — which we had seen (much too) up close earlier that day.
The Saltdogs came into the game with an 8-10 record and would not fare any better the rest of the season, finishing with a 42-58 mark, 22 games behind the division-winning Sioux City Explorers. They were dressed in their sweet powder blues.
Their opponent for the afternoon was the Fargo-Moorhead RedHawks, who we had seen earlier in the week at Newman Outdoor Field in Fargo.
Saltdogs mascot Homer the Haymarket Hound got some swings in to help warm up for the game.
A group of about 30 kids performed a sweet and earnest rendition of the national anthem, and it was time to play ball.
Dylan Castaneda
Saltdogs starter Dylan Castaneda put a couple of RedHawks runners on base in the first inning but left them there. Drafted in the 30th round in 2019, Castaneda never made it above Single-A ball. He was traded to the Arizona Diamondbacks in 2022, struggled mightily, and began his career in independent baseball later that season with the Staten Island FerryHawks of the Atlantic League. Now with his third team after taking a year off from baseball, Castaneda would have his best professional season in 2025, putting up a respectable 4.35 ERA in 80-plus innings.
The top of Lincoln’s lineup produced a pair of doubles in the bottom of the first, and the home team led it 1-0.
We mulled over our lunch options — hot dogs, brats, Polish sausages, burgers, pulled pork sandwiches, chicken tenders, and Valentino’s pizza. Dad chose the cheeseburger and enjoyed it (“a bigger patty than I expected”), and I had a good Polish sausage.
In the top of the second, Castaneda walked three batters to load the bases, and a simple sacrifice fly tied the score 1-1.
I took a stroll down the right-field line and found Saltdogs mascot Homer hanging out on the concourse. Further on, near the Kids Corner, I came across Buck Beltzer’s Bullpen, a tribute to a Lincoln baseball icon. Beltzer was captain of the University of Nebraska baseball and football teams in 1909, then formed a semi-pro baseball team with his brother (the Lincoln Indians) and managed a Nebraska State minor league team known as the Lincoln Links. The University of Nebraska’s ballpark was known as Buck Beltzer Field until Haymarket Park opened in 2001.
The wet conditions and light crowd put a damper on much of the potential fun on the field between innings. We saw a pizza giveaway; a race between appliances; a race in which kids put on pants, a jersey, and a helmet; a Frozone race; and some unfortunate displays of the fine art of air guitar. (Watch the episode!)
Castaneda struggled with control again in the third. The RedHawks capitalized with three runs before the right-hander was pulled from the game. The RedHawks led it 3-1.
Right about then, I heard the PA announcer call out our seat number to award us 20 Dog Dollars — a Saltdogs gift certificate — to celebrate Lincoln’s first stolen base of the game. I perked right up and started thinking about what additional merchandise I might need at the team store. I walked briskly toward the table near the front gate as instructed, head down, thinking about shirts, about the game, about photos I wanted to take, abou—
THUNK!
In a flash, I was on the ground, dazed and thoroughly confused. What the hell just happened? Why am I on the ground? What hit me in the head?
I had walked straight into the underside of a metal stairway leading to the upper deck. Full steam. Never saw it. A couple of fans watched me drop like I’d been hit by a sneaky left hook and helped me to my feet. It took a minute.
Still woozy, my head throbbing, I walked carefully to the table near the front gate, received my 20 Dog Dollars, and went to the team store to console myself. I found a nice long-sleeve Saltdogs shirt, presented my Dog Dollars at the counter, and was told that the store’s system was not yet ready to accept Dog Dollars. I blinked, still not fully with it. “You’ve got these Dog Dollars that you’re giving out,” I thought to myself, “but people can’t redeem them?” In the brief time since we had won this prize, I had experienced a serious blow to the head followed by bewildering disappointment. It didn’t feel like winning.
Kyle Crigger
Back on the field, Lincoln labored against Fargo-Moorhead starter Kyle Crigger, who put up zeroes through the middle innings and kept the RedHawks ahead 3-1. Drafted in the seventh round of the 2022 draft by the Miami Marlins, Crigger had advanced as far as the Double-A Pensacola Blue Wahoos in 2024 before making a go at independent professional ball in 2025. He would post a 3.64 ERA in 18 starts for the RedHawks in 2025.
The RedHawks scored two in the top of the sixth on a home run from center fielder Lamar Sparks and made it 5-1.
The action lagged as the visitors continued to put players on base. The game broke wide open in the top of the ninth, as the RedHawks added three more runs, punctuated by a two-run blast by second baseman Peter Brookshaw. Fargo-Moorhead led it 8-1.
The few fans still remaining perked up when Lincoln led off the bottom of the ninth with a walk and a home run by center fielder Rolando Espinosa. But the mini-rally ended there.
The last batter of the game was Saltdogs pinch-hitter, Lincoln native, and former Cornhuskers catcher Griffin Everitt, who struck out swinging. But on the pitch just before the final out, Everitt fouled off a ball that went right to me for a souvenir — my third straight game coming away with a foul ball or home run.
Brother Sebastian’s
That night, back in Omaha, Dad and I went for a rare night out for dinner at Brother Sebastian’s, a classy, cozy steakhouse with rooms and decorations inspired by Spanish monasteries. It’s been an Omaha special-occasion institution since 1977. (The original building burned down in 1996 but was faithfully rebuilt just eight months later.) We were led past a room floor-to-ceiling with wine barrels, and another styled like a chapel, with a modest altar and two small stained-glass windows. Servers came through wearing monk and nun habits.
Our filets were fabulous, though I should have ordered a side sauce. Add a loaded baked potato, grilled asparagus, a strong buffet salad, and a good glass (or two) of Cabernet, and I had zero complaints. We would sleep easy and be back at it again in the morning.