Sixteen months ago, I wrote what was billed as a "Fan’s-eye perspective" of the new Twins ballpark. It wasn’t Target Field then, and existed mostly on paper, so I did my best to compare schematics to the Metrodome.

Friday afternoon, I had the chance to check out the place for the first time. And I went with a mission: to give you the tightwad’s perspective.

Since I voluntarily ejected myself from the press box several years ago, I pay for my seats like the rest of the world. It’s a come-down, because I’m a cheapskate. I was in agony paying $31 apiece for centerfield Dome seats during the Red Sox series, a function of late decision-making, online fees, and an eager 11-year-old.

So when Ballpark Authority executive director Dan Kenney buttonholed me for a Target Field tour, I went with a bit of blood in my eye. Sway me not, Satan, with your stadium clubs and behind-the-plate views; I’ll only enjoy those if the ushers are especially inattentive — and in new parks, they usually turn as vigilant as the Secret Service.

Kenney indulged me — but not before walking me through valet parking into the watering hole where the $275-a-ticket swells will tipple and nibble. We exploded into the sunshine, where the looming stands seem to encompass you like a first baseman’s glove; the thumb in centerfield and the fingers curling around to the right field foul pole.

Everyone should be introduced to their ballpark this way, with no advertising save for a giant Twins logo above the gargantuan scoreboard, and an ignorable Budweiser sign atop the club’s offices. No Top 40 blaring from the speakers, no overpriced concessions; you fill in the dreamscape. (And you'll have to; one of the Twins' counterproductive conditions was no photos.)

A surprise in left
The team has already released its 2010 ticket prices — at least for folks buying 20-, 40- or full-season plans. As I guide, I decided to concentrate on what for now are $20-and-under seats. (Full pricing and a clearer delination of what's on which deck here.)

No piece on lower-priced tickets can be written without noting there will be less of them. Over 15,000 fewer fans will fit into Target Field than at the Dome. The sections listed below hold a few hundred to a few thousand fans. You’ll have to work harder to get inside (at least in the early years), but if you’re like me, you will.

I didn’t expect that the left field stands would make the first strong impression. Their geometry is starkly different from the Dome’s. Target Field’s triple-decker stands rise as high as the Dome’s suite level, but go perhaps half as far back. (See comparison at right; Target Field's stands are in black.)

There are no handrails at the new park yet, and I experienced more than a bit of vertigo. But the best way to think of left field is that it employs the Xcel Energy Center theory of sightlines — stay as close to the field as possible and go up, not out. It doesn't hurt that the left-center power alley is 8 feet closer.

The uppermost deck (navy blue in the top diagram) hits our $20 price point, and completely kicks the ass of the Dome’s home run porch, which is currently a buck cheaper.

Down the first base line
I won’t be sitting out there, though.

Although it's like causing a stampede to your favorite fishing hole, my wallet quivered like a divining rod when we ascended to section 302 (darkest green in the top diagram). That's in the upper deck’s uppermost half way down the first base line.

These are the cheap seats in the new park — $10 per game on the 20-game plan, the starting point for any serious penny-pincher. (You can get significantly closer to the plate for the same price in Section 307, but I wanted to check out the least-rosy scenario.)

From my earlier analysis, I knew this section rises as high as the Dome’s and is pitched nearly as far back. The rough equivalent is the top several rows of the current "family section."

Another concern: while everyone knows the football-centric Dome has many seats pointing anywhere but home plate, this part of Target Field isn’t as angled as much toward the battery. The last thing down-the-line denizens need after 27 years of neck strain is another generation of it.

Having renewed acquaintances with Baltimore’s seminal Camden Yards last year, one of that beauty’s flaws is beyond first and third base, where seats every bit as vertabreaking as the Dome’s. Past the bags, you need to angle the sections, or angle the seats — or both.

Target Field’s architect promised me last year he’d twist the seats to make up for the down-the-line orientation. Fortunately, I could check: They'd just started bolting in the classic-green chairs, in of all places, 302.

Here, as in most non-premium areas, the seats are as wide as the Dome’s (19 inches) but with at least 2 more inches of legroom. It makes a big difference, and the architect’s promise was mostly fulfilled. The seats are gently cocked toward home. Staring straight ahead, you’re looking at short center, but there’s little strain looking toward home.

Were we too high up? It sure didn’t seem that way, though there was a crane, not a pitcher, where the mound would be. You’ll lose a few balls down the right field line, which angles ever so slightly underneath the upper deck, but all the Justin Morneau plaza homers should be gloriously visible.

Wind blows, for good and ill
The biggest gamble in Section 302 is the wind.

I happened to tour on a perfect 75 degree day, wind blowing gently but steadily to right. The beautiful zephyrs, channeled by the park’s large, wing-like canopy, washed over us. The breeze wouldn’t have dislodged a toupee, and only enhanced the perfection.

The stainless steel canopy — much more beautiful than the overhyped Kasota stone — will frustrate tan-seekers, but should make any summer day bearable. At the disaster that is Milwaukee’s Miller Park, there's an absolute lack of a breeze in the stands. (Our family calls it The Terrarium.) While the Twins haven’t installed all the exterior panels yet, Target Field seems to have the lovely circulation you’d expect of a non-dome.

Still, the flip side will manifest itself during those April cold spells and late-September gales, when mid-winter layering and hot toddy catheters will be musts. While the concourses will, thankfully, have heat lamps (plus nifty upper-deck warming shelters with field views) there will probably be no place more bone-chilling than 302. Pick your games accordingly, if you can.

About that skyline ...
One of the section’s other little treats, at least at the tip-top, is the best view of the skyline anywhere inside. The problem is that you have to look away from the field. The Graves 601 gets front-row play, framed by the IDS Center's blue.

Back when a couple of private landowners were hyping the site, they released this conception of what the skyline would look like:

I immediately teased them that this was pure spin: there was never any chance the skyline would dapple the outfield like this.

They got paid, so they had the last laugh, but as you can see, I was right. A more realistic version (which still censors City Center's prominence) is here:

The best place to soak in the skyline will be down the third base line — also the best place to soak up the sun — with a secondary nod to the left field risers. If you’re not psyched about a direct view of the monstrous high-def scoreboard (which could be seriously distracting), consider spending $12 for 302’s third-base equivalent, the medium-blue sections 323-327.

One additional word about the upper deck. The Twins love to talk about it being split; you enter about a third of the way up, making those Dome-like trudges a thing of the past.

It also allows the team to price the lower part higher. According to the season-ticket pricing plan, $20 will get you into the lower part down either baseline. While it toys with my discount principles, the views seemed good, even furthest away from the plate.

Getting downstairs
One of the best features about the park from a tightwad’s point of view is that there will be free circulation between the upper and lower decks. That means there won’t be those red-clad ushers stopping you from going downstairs (though don’t try to get in the club or suite level).

The Twins hope we cheapskates will watch from the first deck concourse, which is open to the field. Kenney says there won’t be a lot of food carts blocking the view; the spacious concession stands are built into the outside walls.

The only downside I could envision is that the club level hangs low enough that you won’t see the apogee of fly balls. I also couldn’t quite tell how visible the plate will be from some viewing spots.

Other potential cheapies
I didn’t get a chance to see the right field bleachers (canary yellow, $18) or the batter’s eye and plaza-level options in center and right. The latter sections could wind up being the best value in the park; it looks like they will be sold on a single-game basis, and those prices aren't available yet. 

Miscellany
A nice touch: aisle seat armrests swing up for easier access. Unfortunately, the Twins missed a chance to do that with all the seats, as at newer movie theaters. It would be nice to cuddle with one’s significant other, or squirmy child, but there’s no crying in baseball.

A pathetic touch: the pine trees in the batter’s eye. When you get inside the joint, you’ll have no trouble believing it cost half-a-billion; it's a massive thing. This scale makes the trees look puny, like Paul Bunyan’s toothpicks, rather than a magisterial ode to the north woods. Given how stupid these look at older parks, I don't think this will change even when the evergreens grow.

Overall, I can’t say Target Field was worth the tax money; I still have my qualms. But the deed is done, I’m a fan, and I’ve wasted the best years of my life watching baseball in an oversized diaphragm case.

I don’t know what marketing abominations will be unleashed by the time the turnstiles open in early April, or what price hikes await after Year One, but after standing in the edifice itself, this bargain-hunter is pumped.