a no-no for johan

Leave it to me to pick last night to go completely offline and in the process miss out on a major piece of Mets history. I knew something was up when I turned on my phone this morning and found about five text messages from a selection of my Mets-loving friends... What a way to start the day: The Mets. Have. A no-hitter! For a team that has so often been composed of loveable losers, this feat is particularly sweet. Congrats to Johan Santana for making it happen in such dramatic fashion. And now, I'm off to watch the replay. ∞

lovable losers

Oh, Mets. This season, my New York Metropolitans have found every way imaginable to lose. Forgetting to slide at home plate? Check. Thrown out at third for the last out? More than once! Missing third base on the way home? You betcha. Dropping a routine pop up against the boys in pinstripes with two outs in the bottom of the ninth, and letting the tying and winning runs score in the process? Holy mother of—

But then, you have to take a step back and think of the bigger picture. Hey, we did well just to get back into that game! How many other times have we laid down and died from the third inning onward? At least the Phillies lost, too! In the broadcast afterward, you could tell that the sportscasters—several of them former Mets themselves—were literally at a loss of words for this latest, most humiliating debacle. Others were downright angry: These guys get paid millions of dollars to drop pop-ups? They'll try harder tomorrow?!

It is not easy being a fan of the New York Mets. For one thing, we've had more than our share of disastrous seasons, despite our large payroll. But for another thing, we will always, always play in the shadow of our crosstown neighbors, the New York Yankees. Sure, there are plenty of Yankee haters in the world. But most of them don't have to share the same subway car, the same cubicle, the same line at the Shake Shack, as so many of those smug Yankee fans—many of whom, i will point out, have no real reason to root for the Yankees other than the fact that they are the darlings of the baseball world. I mean, come on, how can Hillary Clinton, who's a Cubs fan first and foremost, just pick up and start rooting for an American League team once she moves to New York? It's called front-running. And it's annoying.

As I made my way into the kitchen after this incredulous loss tonight, I almost wished we could go back to the old days, when the Mets were lovable losers. We'd all just shrug and smile. This story from Wikipedia warmed my heart:

How bad were the Mets those first several seasons? Absolutely terrible. On May 26, 1964, in Chicago, they played like champions (at least for one game) and pummeled the Chicago Cubs, 19-1. According to legend, later that day a fan called a New York newspaper to get the score. He was told: "They scored 19 runs." There was a long silence, then the fan asked: "Did they win?"

Then a friend of mine, a fellow die-hard, emailed me, and of course he had some good points:

What can you do but laugh? If that wasn't the most ridiculous loss in Met history, I don't know what was, but it probably involved Marv Throneberry. The truth is, it's a simple example of who the Mets are vs. who the Yankees are. We are fated to suffer bizarre indignities, and the Yankees are fated to capitalize on the bizarre indignities that befall others. It was inevitable that at some point we would lose a game to them in ridiculous fashion. They have Jeffrey Maier catching Jeter's ball; we have Zeile's hit bouncing off the top of the wall as Timo dogs it around second. They have Rivera; we have Benitez. Even this year, it's been evident—they have Melky Cabrera delivering 100 walkoff hits, while we have Ryan Church forgetting to touch third base.

Whether we knew it or not at the time, this is what we signed up for when we became Met fans. So when we reach the inevitable confluence of our destinies, what else can we do but laugh? This is who we are, this is our heritage. We share it with each other, and we all know EXACTLY how it feels. We may be doomed, but we'll never be alone.

I guess that's the only comfort I can take right now. I know it's just one game out of the entire season. And I guess I'll get over this cruel shame that creeps in knowing that at least half of Yankee nation is laughing at you. But I suppose that's what makes true Mets fans what they are. You win some, you lose some, and then you laugh at Bobby V getting fined for his Groucho clubhouse disguise. I can't believe it's been 10 years since that happened, by the way...The good old days, already? I'm getting old. ∞

citi field of dreams

And then it was gone.

I had been looking forward to my first trip to Citi Field for some time, and yet when it finally arrived, there was a sense of anxiety that welled up in my gut. The moment had at last come for me to take in the finality of Shea Stadium's demise. As I wrote last fall, it was like an old friend had gone out to pasture, never to return. Seeing photographs of the battered old stands, first stripped nude, then knocked down and picked apart by giant metallic arms, it reminded me of watching a dead animal decomposing. I had friends who went out to watch the demolition of the last piece, but I had wanted nothing of it. And without a reason to head out to Flushing for the past six months, I suppose I was keeping myself stuck in the denial stage of grief.

But then, as I sat on the north side of a surprisingly uncrowded rush-hour 7 train around 5:30 yesterday evening, the emotions took over. The familiar sight of the bright blue cylinder off in the distance, usually sporting some snazzy new slogan like "Amazing Again" or "Our Team, Our Time," simply didn't materialize. With Citi Field a bit further east, it appeared for a moment as though I'd see nothing but trees where once a grand, albeit quirky, stadium once stood. I'm sure this sounds completely ridiculous to those of you who aren't sports fans, but I'm a sucker for sports drama, and will admit to shedding a tear at the drop of a hat for things like a player getting his number retired, the death of a beloved sports announcer, and, yes, even some of those cheesy profiles they dish us during the Olympics. So I suppose I should have guessed that this might happen, but I honestly wasn't expecting to feel so overwhelmed.

That said, it was a day for hello, not goodbye, and my little moment was eclipsed by the view of a really spiffy-looking new ballpark! After pulling into the newly re-christened "Mets - Willets Point" stop, I took out my camera and got ready to use it. In front of the main gate, I met my friends, who, to my amusement, were decked out in as much Mets gear as I was. After looking unsuccessfully for the home plate location commemorating Shea (that part of the parking lot wasn't paved over yet, so I guess we'll catch it next time), we headed into the new Jackie Robinson rotunda.

My first impression was that it's certainly a nice entryway. There are two sets of stairs flanking a series of escalators and a giant "42" statue, along with photos of and quotations from the late Jackie Robinson. At this point I have to mention that although I grew up a Mets fan and will die a Mets fan, I also root for the San Francisco Giants, because my father grew up rooting for the New York Giants before they moved out west. You probably already know that the Mets took the colors of the Giants and the crosstown rival Brooklyn Dodgers after those two teams left for California in the 1950s, leaving New York without a National League team. And you may have also heard that Brooklyn-born Mets owner Fred Wilpon basically designed his new stadium to look exactly like the Dodgers' old Ebbets Field. Well, I can tell you right now that it's kind of ridiculous how much the Dodgers have a place in this stadium over not only the Giants, but over the Mets themselves. In the entryways and the walkways, the Mets are nowhere to be seen except in the occasional appearance of a friendly Mr. Met. There are some photos of former Mets along the far left field façade of the building, but that's pretty much it. The Dodgers are recalled not just in the design of the entryway, but in the fact that the whole rotunda celebrates a Dodger, and also in a gigantic photograph of Ebbets field that greets you as you enter the main field level. This, as opposed to Shea, where all around you had posters and photographs of historic Met moments and our Mets heroes. Honestly, I was disappointed big-time in this lack of celebration of our team, and I truly hope that in coming years the powers that be do something to rectify the situation.

But wow, what a view once the field came into view. Since we got there early, we decided to take a long stroll around the entire stadium before heading up to our seats. The sight lines looked amazing, the colors were vibrant, the field was very, very green, and it was almost surreal to think that this was my new baseball home. The ushers were spotty about letting people down into the lower seats to take photographs, which was a departure from the ability to walk down for autographs until just before game time at Shea. It was great to see the new, gigantic Mets apple. That, plus the orange foul poles, were really the two things that said "Mets" about the field itself. Incidentally, my brother pointed out to me recently that the outfield walls, with their orange lettering on a sea of black, were reminiscent of the old Polo Grounds, home of the baseball Giants back in the day, and the first home stadium that the Mets ever played in. Okay, I will give them that. But I honestly don't think that whoever designed that wall was doing so with the Giants in mind! People have also suggested that the seat color of green was done as a nod to the Polo Grounds, and again I say hooey. Stadiums with forest green seats are pretty much the norm these days.

Aside from the field itself, we of course had to take note of the food situation, which had been written about in numerous articles over the previous several weeks. Although it was an hour before game time, the field level was absolutely swarming with people, and where a few of the main "gourmet" food booths, including the Shake Shack and Blue Smoke, were located, it was a genuine mob scene. You could barely move just to pass on through, and I can only imagine how long the wait was for a Shack burger. I can't help but wonder whether the Mets might have been better served to place some of the nicer booths higher up in the Promenade level... It was nice to see probably the most prominent reminder of Shea in this area, though: the old New York skyline, which had been nicely re-lit and which still had the ribbon over the former Twin Towers. And I don't want to forget to mention a small but important point: The Mets are finally featuring recycling bins next to their trash cans! As annoyed as I always was that Shea never EVER had recycling, I was very glad to see those special bottle-and-can receptacles dotting Citi Field.

Anyway, around the corner, behind right-center field we noticed some picnic tables, which seemed like a cool idea. It'll be interesting to see if those become a place where people run to in order to stake out spots for the evening, as the views are probably better from there than from a lot of seats. Behind those, we discovered a nice area where the old Home Run Apple was quietly hiding. There's actually a second entrance at this part of the field, just across the street from all the chop shops of Willets Point. But few people were taking advantage of it. That said, a couple dozen fans had lined up to have their picture taken with the dented old apple, which had clearly seen better days. I'm glad that the Mets decided to bring it over, though, as there had been some discussion about its future.

The only other real surprise was a mini supermarket located underneath the Pepsi porch area. Never in a sporting arena have I seen a place to buy foodstuffs like gummi bears, rice crackers, cookies (loved the orange-and-blue black-and-whites), prepackaged cold foods like pasta salad and sandwiches, etc. The prices were pretty high for what they were, but if you consider you're gonna pay for convenience, it wasn't outrageous. After that, we headed up to the middle level (which we skipped completely except for my five-minute stop in the very girlie Alyssa Milano Mets store; no return trip necessary), and then straight up to the Promenade, which is, for all intents and purposes, the upper deck.

It's been said that the Promenade at Citi Field is as high as the Mezzanine level at Shea. And it shows. The views, especially closer to the plate, are excellent. I truly doubt that there are any bad seats in the whole place. In the front sections there were loads of seats available for handicapped fans to bring their wheelchairs, which was really nice to see. And the sight lines were quite good no matter where you were. Our seats were up in the left field corner, just to the left of the foul pole. We definitely couldn't see the left field wall, or a good 10 feet in front of it, and that did cause us to miss a couple of plays. But overall you had a stellar view of 99 percent of the field, even from pretty far away.

By the time we got to our seats, we had worked up an appetite, so it was time to try the culinary offerings. I've decided to eat something different at each of the nine games I have tickets for this year. So for this first night, I had the grilled sausage sandwich. I'll save my review for another post later in the year, but I will say that I was happy to see they are finally letting us keep the bottle caps for our drinks! Temperatures were in the low 40s for the evening, and with steady winds whipping around, we were pretty much freezing from the moment we sat down. Food lines at regular old hot dog stands were relatively long until about the 6th inning, when some people actually started to leave (I'm telling you, it was chilly). Around that time, I took a long stroll to check out some of the team stores—and to get some blood flowing to the outer extremities, which were starting to lose feeling—and they had some nice new wares at the main shop on the Promenade level. I did notice there are a lot fewer stores than at Shea, so the main shop was crammed with people—although the fact that it was the third game in the life of the new stadium and that the store was heated probably also had something to do with it.

In the late innings, we decided to move closer to the plate, and into the lower reserved Promenade section (there was no trouble in doing so). Once again, I will say that the view was amazing, and we were still in the top level of the stadium! The game itself was a typical Mets game: get a lead, give up a lead, desperation catch-up push at the end that falls just short. But I think it's safe to say that the day was less about the baseball game before us than about taking in the new situation. After the last out was recorded, we headed for the exits, which weren't as crowded as I'd prepared for (but again, many people had left early). The parking lot was easy to navigate, and we were on the highway in less than 10 minutes. All in all it was a stellar evening, and I came away with the feeling that Citi Field is going to be an awesome baseball stadium for a long, long time. They built it. Now, let the championships come! ∞

shea stadium (1964 - 2008)

Today was the last day in the life of a vibrant and quirky stadium in Flushing, New York. And a somber day it was. Not only did the stadium see its final game, it saw its team, the New York Mets, lose all hope of making it to the playoffs—on the last day of the regular season, for the second year in a row. Sheesh.

It's been a tumultuous season, to say the least. The Mets suffered through a number of key injuries (most devastatingly to their closer, Billy Wagner); fired their manager in midseason; came back to erase a seven-game deficit in the division; went on to blow a three-game lead that they later earned, and finally, made their fans suffer through a roller coaster last two weeks that undoubtedly left many ulcers in its wake. I gotta say, they performed pretty well considering they were stuck with an extremely subpar bullpen for much of the season. And yet, they lost. Again. Boo.

Perhaps it was fitting to go out this way. The Mets seem to be built on a relatively solid core of players, but they are in need of a spark (or five) get them through to the next level. I kind of feel the same about the Mets' home for the last 44 years. Shea Stadium will always remind me of my youth, in the same way that the Polo Grounds will always stick with my father, who grew up rooting for the New York Giants before they moved to San Francisco. But I ain't no spring chicken, and neither is Shea. The stadium has improved since it opened, especially in the coloration. But a good chunk of the mezzanine seats have a horrible view, while the upper deck—where I'm guessing fans spent most of their time over the years—is downright frigid in the spring and early fall. Also, fans in some of those outer seats can seem far, far away from the action. Worst of all, the interior parts of Shea, including all concession stands, are totally cut off from the field.

Still, it's with a real tear in my eye that I say farewell to good old Shea Stadium. I was lucky enough to have attended three of what the fans voted as Shea's top 10 moments (#2, 6, and 10), and those memories won't soon be forgotten. Of course, I won't soon forget all the other memories of the Mets blowing it, I assure you. The new digs next door look fresh, and they will be home to a whole new set of memories, though. One wish is that the Mets would use the change of venue to bring ball girls back to New York. Growing up, I realized it was a pipe dream to think of playing for the Mets. But they used to have ball girls on the sidelines, and that was a great thing to see. Today, it's all boys all the time, which sucks for all those girls out there who dream diamond dreams.

Anyway, goodbye Shea. We will miss you. ∞