How far have we come as a people? We beat the Braves for the fourth consecutive time, in September, in a finishing kick that this franchise has lacked even in many of its good years, and when it came time to mock the visitors from Atlanta, it wasn't…
“WOH-OH-OH!”
It was more…
“Meh. Meh-eh.”
There was still some pretty good vitriol made available to the Braves lest they think we don't still consider themselves our partners in a special relationship. But in ninth innings past, with a victory nearing the reasonable assurance stage (and there were a few), there'd be the chant and there'd be the chop and there'd be the Chipper…sucks.
Not in 2007. Not at this point of the calendar. Not while the standings are arranged as neatly as they are. Barely a hint of a chant or a chop at Shea Monday night and no sign of Chipper on the field. No Andruw either. When the Joneses aren't dragged from their sick beds to keep up with the Mets, there must be a towel involved.
You know, the kind the Braves have obviously thrown in.
WOH-OH-OH!
Hey, this feels good, huh? Remember when the only reason the Braves wouldn't have wheeled out their big if dinged guns in September was to rest them up for the playoffs? Unless watching the playoffs requires fresh legs (and those trips to the fridge can take it outta ya), it would appear there is no urgency to Bobby Cox's lineup construction these nights.
WOH-OH-OH!
So no chop, no chant — nothing sustained, at least. Laurie and I did have one guy two rows behind us who let the Braves know they can just go ahead and “SWEEP US! WE'VE GOT THE DIVISION! TWO YEARS IN A ROW!” but he lost his momentum when he attempted to shout agate type involving Pythagorean Winning Percentage and such before the intense curmudgeon to Laurie's left turned around and told him to knock it off and he did (why haven't I ever tried that?). The Atlanta Braves haven't suddenly become the Generic Opponent Questionable Nicknames, but let's say smacking them down in another close one has lost the slightest touch of its edge.
I'm pretty sure Jason or I (or both of us) predicted five years ago, when Angels fans were ThunderStixing their way to a world championship, that the annoying inflatable noisemakers would be all the rage at Shea come 2004, just after the novelty of them had completely deflated. We were only off by three years (though we continue to wait on the Rally Monkey.) In the spirit of corporate synergy, Monday night was Citi Night. Free money? No-fee checking? No, just blue ThunderStix with the Citi logo. How's that for team spirit?
There's nothing written on them that had any connection to the Mets, Laurie said.
It will by 2009, I replied.
“WE'RE NOT CLIENTELE!” the yelling guy later added, possibly in response to the assault of Large Financial Institution Is Wonderful announcements that ran on DiamondVision between Kiss and Smile cams. Or maybe he was telling the pretzel man to move along.
Knock it off. You too, Citi.
Monday was my 27th home game of the year, most of them reached by mass transit, leading me to a rather disturbing revelation: Should I ever stumble from the platform onto the tracks and meet my untimely demise at Woodside, I think I know the way Newsday will identify me in the headline of this latest story of how the LIRR gap epidemic is swallowing riders whole. After their reporter talks to a few eyewitnesses, I will be:
Mets Fan Who Directed Others to Trains
Hence the irony.
What is it about my persona that compels total strangers to ask me every conceivable question as regards public transportation between Long Island and Shea Stadium? Aren't there professionals paid to provide answers? Doesn't anybody else appear they know where they're going?
Excuse me, what's the next stop?
Will we have time to make our connection?
Does the Huntington train stop on this platform?
Is this Track A?
Do the doors open here?
Should I get off at Jamaica or stay on?
Would I look good with a mustache?
I don't mind, per se. I like to be helpful, especially to my fellow Metsopotamians. If I didn't know where I was going, I'd want somebody to set me on the right path. But why do they ask me out of everybody around? This isn't 1997 — there are thousands of people who take subways and commuter trains to and from Shea. The MTA has been flogging a campaign encouraging it for two years. I have thus concluded:
a) most Long Islanders are clueless as to how the system works;
b) I emit an aura convincing them to see me as their map, their timetable and their compass rolled into one.
They view me as the Swiss Army Knife of the Long Island Rail Road.
This has been going on as long as I can remember. And it's not a strictly local phenomenon. It happens, probably once per trip, on our out-of-town ballpark sojourns. I don't know how somebody from Milwaukee or St. Louis or Philadelphia is supposed to look, but do I look like I'm from Milwaukee or St. Louis or Philadelphia?
Is there something clueful about the way I stand and stare? Do I seem a better bet than all the signage designed and posted specifically to issue commutation information? Has anybody else ever picked up a branch schedule and kept it just in case they needed to turn around and go home after the game? Or go to another game?
This is probably an NBC series waiting to happen…pitched as Heroes meets Early Edition — something like that. I can hear the promos now: He was just a baseball fan waiting for a train. Until he was…CHOSEN!
Ask the guy over there for directions. Save the world.
Thank GOD you have the commuter instincts you do, otherwise my goddaughter & I might still be hanging around that scary convenience store in Woodside…
Is there something clueful about the way I stand and stare? Do I seem a better bet than all the signage designed and posted specifically to issue commutation information? Has anybody else ever picked up a branch schedule and kept it just in case they needed to turn around and go home after the game? Or go to another game?
No. I have never looked at you and said “There Goes a Guy Who Knows Where He is Going”. Not once, not ever.
Your Friend,
Joel
I retract “as long as I can remember” and substitute it with “since 1980”.
Only scary if you don't pay for the Diet Dr Pepper.
You can definitely tell those who know their way around the mass transit system – the ones who aren't in a panic stand out :)
Re: lack of Braves-targeted vitriol… I'm wondering if maybe it's because so many people at Shea these days hopped on in the fledgling Wright/Reyes/Beltran “Mets Don't Suck Anymore” Era, and therefore aren't really as invested in the rivalry. They weren't around for all the misery that came before them; although most have probably heard tell, it's not the same as actually having suffered through it. It's like, they know they're supposed to hate the Braves, but they're not really feelin' it… especially as the Braves they're familiar with aren't… the Braves (*shudder*).
Interesting theory, but I sense it was a more a matter of a) the Braves suck (I mean actually suck); b) the chief antagonists weren't playing; c) people are generally happier of late (happy as Mets fans are gonna get); d) those idiotic ThunderStix; e) a case of the Mondays.
I found the Cardinals' receipt of less than a full dose in June far more disturbing.
I found plenty of antagonists not-named-Jones to boo. If you can't summon a healthy amount of venom to spit at Jeff Francoeur, Willie Harris, Brian McCann, Edgar Renteria, Matt Diaz, Kelly Johnson and Mark Friggin' Teixeira… well, I'm gonna have to hold a mirror up to your mouth. And kick your sorry a$$ right out of Shea.
Your gloating over the death of the Braves is appropriate..Night of the living dead does come to mind. I didn't miss Chipper..Win between the raindrops tonight..See you Friday..
Your gloating over the death of the Braves is appropriate..Night of the living dead does come to mind. I didn't miss Chipper..Win between the raindrops tonight..See you Friday..
(Um, you do know by “you” I didn't mean YOU, Greg… right? Considering we lustily booed all of these vile creatures in concert last night, I'm guessing not.)
I almost always know what you mean. That, of course, is the frightening thing.
I'm so glad I'm not witnessing this mess in person (hope it's a little better tomorrow night)… and I just realized the sentence structure of my last post is really off. But as usual, you know what I mean. That suggests your mind works like mine. heh
(Go Rockies! 8-2 in the 9th!)
I have thus concluded:
a) most Long Islanders are clueless as to how the system works;
b) I emit an aura convincing them to see me as their map, their timetable and their compass rolled into one.
I have the same problem just about every day on the 7 (I'm dreading the nightmare trips in October–er, that is of course if we get there. *knock wood*). I always have my met hat on, and I always take the 7 train home into Queens each day, so people always assume Im headed to Shea. I get quizzed about once a week as to “which stop is Shea Stadium?”, “how many stops is it?”, “Does the express go there”, “Do I get on the train going to Times Square?”.
And my personal favorite: arriving at Hunter's Point and hearing the conversation between clueless fans, “wait, Hunter's Point? Is this our stop? Are we going to Hunter's Point or *Willis* Point? Should we get off? What should we do?! Oh it's too late! Let me look at the map again.” The icing on the cake are on the rare occasions when I hear them talking about their tickets. “Where are our seats?” “Uhh, Upper reserved, section 38.” “Are those good?” “yeah, they're pretty good.”
Not that I should make fun. I prefer the upper deck, and have had to sit way out in the 30s and 40s when I've had to, but I've never deluded anyone by calling them good seats.
If we can get Dontrelle, “Willis Point” wouldn't be a bad name for the stop come 2009.