Since I was a child I have been fascinated by sporting venues. I don't know exactly where this obsession originated other than my passion for sports itself, but the actual fields of battle have always been special to me. Even to this day if I have the chance, I like to get to the stadium hours before anyone else just to soak in the essence and aura of what historical moments had taken place on the various spots I was standing on.

I think that it is criminal when a particular stadium that has been razed hasn't been properly memorialized. When they have been, often times I am memorized by them. If you ever encounter me at Helfaer Field, for example, you are likely to see me just staring down at County Stadium's home plate embedded in concrete. Please pay me no mind as I imagine Robin Yount's 3,000th hit, Rod Carew's October ground out, or Henry Aaron's walk-off shot to clinch the 1957 National League pennant.

After all, the entire structure is oriented around that very point. It is the only point in the entire cathedral of the sport that the game originates around. Players begin their batting journey at home plate; the goal is to cross it.

While in Minnesota, the only reason I wanted to travel to the Mall of America was to stand at old Metropolitan Stadium's home plate. The marker is located at Nickelodeon Universe, formerly known as Camp Snoopy, the amusement park located in the middle of the mall. It is from home plate where you can look up to see the chair mounted on the wall that Harmon Killebrew hit 520 feet away. It is only by standing there that you can appreciate just how mammoth of a shot that was.

Unfortunately, not everyone appreciates that much history.

Last year, while in Dallas, I made the short drive to Arlington to not only take a closer look at Rangers Ballpark, but to also see if there were any remnants of old Arlington Stadium. While the new stadium was spectacular, you would never have known there was another that once stood just a parking lot away. No home plate, no historical marker, nothing to tell the story of how the Metroplex became major league.

Fortunately, Arlington appears to be the exception rather than the rule.

While in Atlanta, I was a picture snapping fool at what was Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium. Of course, I am supposed to hate that plot of land with every fiber of my being because that is the very place that lured the Milwaukee Braves out of town.

Nevertheless, when Turner Field opened after the 1996 Olympics to baseball, the Braves and the city did what communities have to do; they tore down the old yard for parking. However, they meticulously maintained the old field by outlining in concrete where the dirt cutouts were as well as the wall where Hank Aaron's record 715th home run flew over in 1974. Eerily, Barry Bonds' first career home run was hit in almost the exact same spot in 1986.

Shea Stadium's home plate, pitchers mound and three bases are all marked in the new Citi Field parking lot, although you really have to know where you are looking to find them. Across town at the site of old Yankee Stadium stands Heritage Park, where three ball diamonds now stand; a full-sized infield cutout where the original home plate was oriented; a youth field facing inward toward the full-sized diamond in what were the left field bleachers; and a softball field down the original right field line.

One of the most important former ballparks in history is also one of the least-talked about. Kansas City Municipal Stadium, home of the legendary Monarchs of the Negro Leagues. The old park was also used by the Kansas City Athletics from 1955-1967 and the Royals upon their inaugural 1969 season until what is now Kaufmann Stadium opened in 1973. The Chiefs also called the venerable old stadium home from 1963 to 71.

For many years, there was an unofficial historical marker that was placed where the stadium stood. However, in 2009 it was removed at a developers request as it was in the way of the homes he was trying to build. It was only after a Royals historical committee protested that the marker was returned.

While many old ballparks have sites that you have to seek out, others make it easy to find, especially the stadia have been transformed. Where Seattle's Kingdome once stood is now the exact spot where CenturyLink Field is. Likewise, where cavernous Cleveland Municipal Stadium once stood is now where Cleveland Browns Stadium is.

In Miami's Little Havana neighborhood, where the Orange Bowl once played host to some of the most historical football games in history is where the new Marlins baseball stadium will open next spring. The orientation of the field indicates that the middle of the 50-yard line is almost precisely where first base will be.

North of the border, when Toronto's Exhibition Stadium was demolished in 1999, a new 20,000 soccer stadium was built. The first home of the Montreal Expos, Jarry Park, was simply converted into a tennis stadium.

By far the strangest ballpark memorial is the site of the Brewers first ballpark. Not County Stadium, but rather the former Sick's Stadium in Seattle where the Brewers were born as the Pilots in 1969. To visit where Sick's Stadium was is to now shop at the Lowe's home improvement warehouse at the corner of South McClellan Street and Rainier Avenue South. Home plate is accurately displayed just outside the exit; the pitching rubber and the bases are all in their proper positions within the store itself.

The ballpark memorial community represents a small but passionate faction of fans, and it seems to be limited almost solely to baseball. Take for example Denver's Mile High Stadium, a beloved football coliseum that also served as the temporary home of the Colorado Rockies for their first two years.

Today, the only thing memorializing the stadium is a plaque telling the story of the minor league baseball teams that played there through the founding of the Rockies franchise and pointing you to home plate, embedded in the new Sports Authority Field parking lot.

Today, you won't see one single remnant or even demarcation of Indianapolis' RCA Dome, Tampa (Houlihan's) Stadium, or Giants Stadium in New Jersey. Even beloved Texas Stadium, the former home of the Dallas Cowboys, is nothing more than an abandoned storage yard for the Texas Department of Transportation.

Something just doesn't seem right about that.

Perhaps it is easier to put a small home plate plaque in a parking lot than it is to erect a set of uprights. But after seeing the full layout committed to the former playing surface of Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, it's hard to see how bricking off an end zone or two is such a difficult undertaking.

More accurately, baseball just honors its past better than football does.

The very fact that there is a whole community of baseball enthusiasts than cannot wait to post pictures of their travels on their various websites speaks to how much the ruins of the game means to some fans. The very fact that teams and communities take the care they do to accurately mark the very spot of historical moments speaks to how much baseball is still ingrained into the very fabric of our sporting society.

Even in places that once eschewed commemorating their former ballparks are re-thinking those decisions. In Baltimore, after a decade of nothing denoting the site of Memorial Stadium after it was finally razed in 2001 after years of deteriorating, a new youth ballpark is being built with home plate being placed where the original rested from 1954-1991.

Detroit's Tiger Stadium stood in decay for years after Comerica Park opened in 2000. What was once a grand old ballyard quickly became an eyesore and came to represent the city's economic decline. Simply put, there was not enough money to restore or renovate the stadium, nor was their money to put it out of its misery.

Finally, after much political wrangling, and after having sold off everything that could be, Tiger Stadium finally was demolished in its entirety in Sept. 2009. Today, the playing field remains, and is maintained by a volunteer group known as the Navin Field (Tiger Stadium's original name) Grounds Crew.

Theirs is a labor of love; not just of the stadium, but the sport itself.

It is a shame that here in Milwaukee, Borchert Field cannot be memorialized better than it is, even though we have all visited it without realizing it. There is a historical marker located a short walk from where the longtime home of the American Association's Brewers played, but not where the stadium itself was. It would be impossible to put it any closer, for the ballpark was razed to make way for Interstate 43. Every time you drive between Burleigh and Chambers Streets on I-43 you are driving right through what was the playing field of County Stadium's predecessor.

But Borchert Field was never a Major League stadium. In 1895, Milwaukee Brewers owner Matthew Killilea, not wanting to pay rent at Borchert Field, built his own ballpark at the corner of 18th and Lloyd Streets northwest of Downtown. Sadly, today there is nothing at all to indicate there was once a baseball park there. Even though the ballpark stood for less than 10 years, it was Milwaukee's introduction to Major League Baseball.

There have been some inquires as to the possibility of perhaps a historical marker in what is now a residential neighborhood, but that hasn't been made a very high priority. There is a small monument to the 1901 Brewers at Miller Park, which seems to satisfy most novice baseball historians.

Ironically, the only thing remotely baseball related at the former Lloyd Street Grounds is Jake's Deli, partially owned by baseball commissioner Bud Selig, perhaps the greatest baseball preservationist of our time.