What you know if you watched, listened or, like me, went to the game Monday night:
A single, a steal, a walk, an eventually intentional walk and a hard-fought walk defined the positive 5-4 result from a practical standpoint. Throw in Tom Glavine bearing down, the bullpen manning up and David Wright going deep and you've got what you need to know in terms of the first-place Mets' second walkoff win of 2007. Take that, Michael Wuertz, whoever you are.
What you get to know because you came here:
I like very much when the forces of Faith and Fear rejoin in Flushing as they did for the first time since October 18. When Jason and I last saw each other in the borough of Queens, it was after Game Six through a pane of glass. I made the 7. He just missed it. Monday night we saw clearly another win and boarded the same train out of town. I found Jason's decision to treat Shawn Green (“you suck!”) like he's Steve Trachsel just because he's not Carlos Gomez curious. He found my enduring disdain for the Cubs (“you suck!”) a little much. Otherwise we found the game just fine.
I really dislike the Cubs. Always have. Always will. Maybe I should pity them, but I can't. Their followers show up in disturbing numbers at Shea, which is all it takes to set me off. Not as many as during the Diaz-Brazell Insurrection of 2004 but too many. It's like they're on tour. “Look at us — we're Cubs fans!” Handfuls of Brewers fans showed up Saturday and they blended in just fine, even in a blowout loss. The only Cub I wanted to see, Cliff Floyd, was held out of the lineup by their manager who couldn't wait to go home and skipper the Devil Rays a couple of years ago. I really dislike Lou Piniella, at least for this week. Surprised DiamondVision didn't air a Cliff tribute or at least a closeup of him sitting on the bench nursing a strain or a grudge.
I really dislike bad manners. No, not “Yankees Suck!” after a win over the Cubs or “clang clang clang” on the cow-bell, man (both are cool by me in small doses). Here's my beef: advance ticket windows around 6 o'clock; I'm behind somebody at one window; a woman is behind somebody at the window to my left; the customer in front of me finishes his business; the woman on the line to my left jumps in front of me; I say “excuse me” in a real huffy tone; she tells me she's been waiting longer; I tell her she's been waiting in a different line; she tells me it doesn't matter; I tell her I think it does; she tells me to relax, this will only take a minute, she has to return some tickets (you can do that?); I make some noises to remind her how impolite she is; I'm borderline self-righteous about it, but really, what the fudge is that? If she had asked, “Would you mind? I'm in kind of a hurry,” I would have said, “No problem.” There was plenty of time before first pitch and I'm not allergic to chivalry, but I don't cotton to doormat treatment either. I wonder if this woman is a doctor or nurse or medical researcher saving lives, because if she is, then there is a reason for her to be on this planet. Otherwise…I tell you what, this is the kind of behavior that pisses me off just thinking about it. Probably runs red lights while chatting away on a cell phone behind the wheel of an oversized SUV.
I don't like at all that the “best available” seats for a fairly random weekend matchup down the line was Section 48, the last section there is if you don't count the marina. The nice lady behind the advance ticket window, once I got to speak to her, told me Saturdays and Sundays are pretty much gone for the rest of the season. StubHub take me away!
I like when people notice what I wish them to notice about me. Monday night I wore a brand new t-shirt that says, in big script letters, Shea Stadium. The guy who scanned my ticket couldn't get over that the shirt had the same name as the place where we stood. Yeah, I said, if I get lost on my way here, I look down and remember where I'm going. We both had a good laugh over that. It's the first time I've ever shared any kind of simpatico with a ticket-taker/scanner at Shea. That only took 35 years. I gotta wear that shirt again. And the cap from last night: my Dave Murray/Steve Springer 1986 Tidewater Tides cap. “Excuse me,” said a fellow with impeccable manners, “is that a Tides cap?” Why yes it is, I said, showing off the autograph under the bill and explaining who wore it and when it was from. I gotta wear the cap again soon.
I really like when total strangers recognize me from blogging. I think I do. It never happened before Monday night. I was roaming field level like a free-range upper deck ticketholder in search of Daruma exotica during BP (when such indiscretions are permitted) when a voice called out. “Greg? Greg?” I didn't know him, but he knew me. Plaster your face under an unusual cap all over your blog and somebody is bound to notice. Nice young man named Tim passed on his compliments regarding the job we do here. I pass back our thanks right now.
I like the sushi stand on the third base side. I'd already had dinner before coming to Shea but didn't let that stop me from purchasing a salmon roll. Heard a guy walking by comment “Sushi at Shea? That's different!” I resisted the temptation to point out Daruma's been selling sushi at Shea for nearly a decade. That would be bad manners. Instead, I suggested to the woman who runs the stand that she set up a concession upstairs, they usually chase me out of this level when I try to buy your excellent product because the house apparatchiks can't fathom that somebody without a field level ticket only wants to come down to buy something that's available only on field level, not to sneak into the orange seats like a second-grade truant. She smiled and gave me my change. Good manners.
I like the upper deck more and more at this late date. I've gone through a Metamorphosis over the years. I used to think field level was the ultimate. Around 1993, I decided loge kicked ass. Around 2001 I got very comfortable in mezzanine. Now I'm beginning to think the high point of Shea is the high point of Shea. Just as well, perhaps, that Shea has only one season after this as I will soon run out of decks. I like the view. If you're not above Row L or not in a section beyond the mid-20s, you can really see some things out in the great wide Flushing.
I don't much like two new things I've noticed at Shea this year. One is the secret Citi Field showroom behind Loge 13. I guess it's not a secret in that it's there in plain sight, but it seems a little nefarious with its locked door and unarmed (I think) guard. I'm told it's something of a dry-run luxury suite for the joint next door, with swatches and cushions (made of materials so comfortable that our unsophisticated asses couldn't possibly comprehend them) being put through their paces. I'm guessing the Trilateral Commission is meeting in there. Or the Stonecutters. The other new addition I could do without is the enormous Dunkin' Donuts cup in the visitors' bullpen. My Shea kitsch tolerance level is extraordinarily high, so high that I wear a t-shirt that says Shea Stadium to Shea Stadium. But that Dunkin' Donuts cup looks like garbage. Literally. It's like somebody bought a Coolata and dumped the remains on Bob Wickman and nobody ever saw fit to mop up.
I don't like or not like so much as I do not care that Baltimore and Toronto were in a tight one when Washington and Atlanta were in a tighter one with a zillion times more significance to us, the Mets fans. MLB Update is a between-innings feature in need of an overhaul. Or an enema.
I do not like at all that it felt 20 degrees cooler on May 14 than it did on April 23. My 1998 blue and gray fleece with orange NY barely did the job. I hope Mr. G and Linda Church explain this phenomenon Thursday.
I like to believe this might happen this weekend: Media hordes collar Darrell Rasner, who is slated to pitch in the Subway Series for the first time, and breathlessly badger him to confess how much awe he feels knowing he's entering Shea Stadium for the first time, how intimidated he is to know he'll be toeing the same rubber that Seaver and Koosman toed, how overwhelmed he is to stand so close to the Home Run Apple and the Keyspan sign and all those landmarks he's only seen on TV. And I really like to imagine the young man will answer that it's always been a dream of his to compete on such hallowed ground and, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get a better look at the Dunkin' Donuts cup.
Shea has an observation area on the Mezz. level left field side. It's a nice birds eye view of the new place..
The progress is rapid over the past 3 months..
Have a good one…Our Maine man goes tonight..
Rich
Let the record show that my disdain for Shawn Green was largely ironic.
Though the record should also show that Shawn Green has absolutely no idea how to play the outfield. Two days after being a key part of the disaster that was the two-run pop-up, he did much the same thing again last night, getting a nonexistent jump on a ball and leaving the second baseman having to backpedal frantically — and in vain.
So I'd like to amend my remarks for the Metsional Record: “GREEN! YOU SUCK [at playing oufield]!”
A Cubs fan on our 7 train did an exemplary job playing diplomat, fending off the abuse of various drunken Met fans with good humor, then managing to jujitsu them (and me, though I was being nice from the get-go) into perfectly pleasant conversation. Not to contradict my partner: That Cub fan was admirably amiable as a single entity, but him into a collective with 5,000 others (lots of Cub fans at Shea last night) and yeah, he sucked.
The final score, thankfully, in no way sucked. Unless you were Lou Piniella.
I too was at last night's game (as well as the Diaz Insuurection), agree as usual with everything you said, includinjg the Upper Deck love (tho I was Mezzing last night) and wish I'd said it first, and I thought of you when I saw a dude in Cubs hat, reading BEVERAGE DYNAMICS magazine on the 7 train on the way home.
Not for nothing but I have failed to Show Up At Shea this season without witnessing a walkoff win and predict another on June 18 vs. Minnesota.
I can't believe they don't let people down to the lower levels to buy the decent food. They'd sell tons of it. All they'd have to do is examine people's tickets to make sure they didn't bogart anyone's seats, and geesh, even there, people do it at Wrigley all the time and nobody has a problem with it as long as you move when the rightful seat owner shows up, so I've never gotten the uptightness there. That'll be another CitiField bonus: Equal concession access. (Yes, Laurie, I know you don't care, and that's perfectly cool, but some of us do.)
Oh, and haven't you always wanted to dump a Coolata on Bob Wickman? Especially one that size.
The policy with regard to field level access and the concessions that reside there sort of reflects the overall philosophy / mission statement of those who run Shea:
“Hey, it may be stupid, but at least it's inconvenient.”
And, for what it's worth, a fellow on the LIRR last evening whipped out a copy of Supermarket News.
Irony evaporates at high elevations.
There are always way too many Cub fans at Shea, and far too vocal. They indeed make themselves into quite a road show spectacle: “Look at us! We're Cub fans! Woo!”. They wear their longsufferingness far too visibly on their sleeve. Okay, we get it, your team sucks. Now be quiet.
I used to sort of admire the Cub fans for their stawartness and their excellent ballpark. But the wife and I went to a Met/Cub game 3 or 4 years ago. It was June, we were already out of it, and the team (not to mention the weather) was ice-cold. We lost handily, and I was treated to “Haaaa! Mets Suck!” and similar sparkling repartee all the way onto Addison. No more simpatico.
I was going to ask, if anyone went yesterday, how obnoxious the Cub fans were. I get the sense they were as annoying as ever, so if I get the chance this afternoon I think I'll prepare a “1908” sign to take with me to Shea. Maybe I'll put BRAZELL / DIAZ on the back.
Feel free to pilfer this that I yelled at Piniella during one of his myriad pitching changes:
“BRING IN LATROY HAWKINS!”
The Cubs fans were legion as always as has been reported elsewhere. They were not, as far as I could tell, particularly annoying. At least not when compared to the unticketed human flotsam that frequents Loge 10 or the stalwart fans who always promptly arrive for the 8:20 first pitch and then get up every half inning.
And Cubs gear will never offend anywhere near the level of the vertical swastika from the Bronx which remains mysteriously ubiquitous even in these prosperous times.
Can't the Mets spring for an exterminator or something?
I smell sponsorship opportunity…
Arrow Exterminating eliminates the pests! (Mr. Met accompanies an Arrow technician into the stands to spritz anybody wearing the offending headgear…and replaces it with a better cap. Or a better fan.)
In the front car of the 7, the Cubs fans were fine. The most-vocal Mets fans were a little drunk on their victory (as well as a little drunk, period), but were basically OK. The most-annoying guy in the car? It was the one random woofing asshole Yankee fan.
As it always has been and always will be, world without end.
I mean, who invited the Yankee fan?
You went to the game? Whatever — your money's green.
You're wearing your hat despite having nothing to do with tonight's game and not even playing a game tonight? Annoying, but whatever. We all love our logos, even when it's the Mark of the Beast.
You're inserting Yankofascist woofery into a discussion of National League supremacy? Not whatever. More than annoying. Who the fuck asked you? What the fuck does it have to do with you? Nobody in the car gives a fuck. Nobody concerned with either team gives a fuck. You wanna hear yourself talk, fucking talk about one or both of the two teams involved. Or get fucking hooked on phonics. Failing that, shut the fuck up with your stupid Yankees fuckery, you stupid Yankee-loving fuck.
Good Christ I hate them.
I failed to consider the Mets would likely seek the endorsement revenue from an outfit like Arrow.
I was thinking more along the lines of Richard Kuklinski.
Mr. Met in his winter attire escorts the Iceman to our Yankee fan of the game.
Probably wouldn't work.
Still beats the shit out of the Kiss Cam.
Uttered without irony.
haven't been on the Mezz yet, actually all my tickets have been Upper. I'll have to go check out that observation deck, I like construction.
I'm not surprised about the Sushi thing, although I'm one of the truants that likes to sneak down to Field Level if I'm alone. Citifield thankfully will be different in that respect.
I've been complaining about the MLB update all the time. At least the game selection. Sure variety is nice, but we don't care about that stuff, we want the Braves, or the Yankees, or the Phillies..
I still don't care for the Upper Deck in terms of the game, even the Green Seats are remarkably closer. However, Upper Deck is often all you can get for big games(all three this weekend, that's where I'll be) and the reason most Saturday and Sunday's are done is because of people like me with Saturday season plans. However there is something magical about being hovering above the game in the nosebleeds, about feeling the stadium shake in huge games(As I imagine you felt at game 6 last year, I know I did) and about knowing in two years, you'll never be that high in Flushing again. There's something nice about being able to buy cheap seats, even if they aren't as good. Having “No bad views” is just another way of saying “No cheap seats”
in two years, you'll never be that high in Flushing again
Well there is LaGuardia.
Like the post but I can't see why we should dislike that the “best available” seats are in Section 48. Don't we want people to come to Shea?
Of course. But not at the expense of my convenience.
Hey, I didn't say I was King Solomon here.
Greg your hatred for the Cubs goes back to your Polo Ground days..
I've been to many Cubs games at Shea over the years. Real vocal Cubs fans at Shea have not always been the case..Sammy Sosa's Cubs came in on Dominican night! Remember the explosion of the crowd for someone other than a Met when he hit the HR? Incredible! The cubbies have become something of a warm and fuzzy teddie..
As for the cheap seats..I think the horse shoe shape of the place really holds it for me.. If Shea had a complete ring of seats around it, it would have been a totally different experience. Shea is a good place to see a ball game given its large seating capacity. .Too many good things to remember about the UD..
What was the original capacity at Shea?
Rich
You don't like the giant Dunkin Donuts cup? It could be worse, the new stadium coulda maybe been called something like Dunkin Donuts Field.
P.s. why the heck don't they call stadiums a Stadium anymore?!?