Not overwhelmed. Not underwhelmed. Just whelmed at the moment. And cold. Very cold.
I have now been to my 33rd Major League ballpark to watch a Major League Baseball game, Citi Field, home of the New York Mets in Flushing, Queens. I cannot offer a definitive judgment of how much I love it or how little I like it because I really don't know yet…”yet” being the key phrase. I may not know for sure for quite a while, and that is a very fair way to take Citi Field: slowly.
We don't have to decide right off the bat whether it's the most beautiful sight our eyes have ever seen (which is what Rudy's father called Notre Dame Stadium in Rudy) or whether it's an overpriced, overwrought pile of bricks (which is what I feared from the moment it was etched into our future plans). It's not the greatest thing ever, it's by no means terrible. It is not going out on a limb to refer to it as not bad. Very nice would also do as a placeholder.
The shock of there being no Shea is dissipating quickly. The LIRR, like the Subway system, has eliminated its Shea Stadium stop, opting instead for Mets/Willets Point. That redesignation felt more appropriate than ever when I got off the train, climbed the steps, turned to pace the boardwalk and saw Citi Field on the right, nothing on the left. I somehow expected there to be two parks where there was only one. Oh yeah, I reminded myself, there's not.
My last living remnant of Shea, so to speak, was a pair of rainchecks from September 12, 2008, a horrible night when I was horribly sick. The fine print said they could be exchanged this season or next, meaning last season or this, even with Shea Stadium a goner and Citi Field allegedly in demand. I took my unused tickets to the advance ticket window (it's along the path to the Left Field Gate, FYI) and expected to be hassled. I wasn't. I put their value toward a game in May. Now I have no more tickets to Shea. Why would I?
Finally, I had to make a phone call. With Alex Anthony's warnings about what I could and couldn't take into the Jackie Robinson Rotunda blasting in my ear, I needed a little quiet, so I made my call from the quietest spot in the Citi Field complex: the Shea Stadium outfield, specifically the part that is gravel en route to it being paved. I figured sooner or later I'd stroll over there, so may as well get it out of the way now. Do you know what it was like standing in what I believe to have been short center field at Shea Stadium?
It was like standing in an unpaved area of the parking lot. When I got done with my call, I turned around and headed for the only ballpark on the premises.
Having used the Right Field Gate for the exhibition and the Rotunda for the workout, I tried Left Field on for size (and am testing the Orosco banner for a meetup on Sunday — Gate Jess-E, if you will). I was waiting to be told by the man in red or green, I forget which, that I was doing something wrong by carrying exactly the kind of stuff I've always carried into Mets games. But no, what I was carrying was fine. I was fine. The man in green or red was fine (though I had the sense he really wanted to be cranky). I was through the Left Field Gate and up an escalator and, once more, though this time for keeps, I was inside Citi Field.
Not as weird as it was for the Red Sox game on April 3. Not weird at all. But crowded. Teeming from the Left Field Gate out to center. I thought an hour before first pitch might win me some latitude toward some of the more popular concessions, but forget it. I wondered for all the celebrated width of concourses why it was so tough to get around. Because people were doing what I was doing: searching for something to buy and in no hurry to decide what they would choose. I wound up back at the World's Fare Market and opted for the Cuban Sandwich and Garlic Fries (with half of the latter falling to the ground in a play at the plate, tagged out by some combination of the cashier, my receipt and me).
The Citi Field Cuban Sandwich, in case you're wondering, is bleeping awesome. If somebody wants to tell me they don't go to baseball games for Cuban Sandwiches, I'll retort that they'll play the game whether you have one or not. I bitched mightily for three dozen seasons that Mets games lacked all but a smidge of Japanese food for edibles. I will appreciate what's good now that it's on tap.
That was just the preamble, or pre-ramble. There was still a matter of swinging through the Field Level to get back to the escalator en route to the Promenade on that side of the Citi. Yes, I could have gone upstairs in right field, but I'm still in that fascination stage with the Field Level, which is actually pretty unfascinating to walk through between the bases as there's no view of the field and, you may have heard, no sign of the home team's history to dwell upon. To be fair, I wasn't thinking “where's the Mets museum?” at that point. I was thinking “more people?”
The real purpose of Citi Field is not the dinner menu or how construction necessitated a whole new parking lot but watching the Mets. Section 527, Row 7 would be the key to whether my first official impression was a dream date or a dud. It wasn't a dud, but everything you've been hearing about obstructed views is true enough. From seven rows up, the left field line is a rumor. Not a little, but a lot. There's still a whole infield and a lot of outfield to garner your attention, but there's enough fair territory blocked by concrete to make you wonder how three years of planning and building missed or, more likely, dismissed this little detail.
Before the game got underway and I settled in, my overriding thought was how small this place is. Never mind intimate. It's small. It's smaller than Citizens Bank. It's smaller than new Busch. It's bigger than Wiffle Park at Chapman Yards, but that's only got eight seats and its one club (the back porch) requires no special ticket. It's not a criticism to identify Citi Field as relatively minute. It's an observation. After a lifetime of large, this felt tiny. I spent a while looking for the rest of the stadium. It wasn't there. This is all we get.
The good news is pitch by pitch, minute by minute, it all felt a little less strange. I adapted to Citi Field in person better than I've been adapting to it on television. You look toward the pitcher and the batter and it's a Met versus an opponent. That's not strange. You've got Mets fans sitting around you. That's not strange. The scoreboards and such…a little strange because they are so different from their predecessors, but by the eighth as opposed to the second, they were the scoreboards where the Mets played. And by the eighth, I was as cold as I'd ever been at a baseball game in Flushing.
That's why Row 7 of Section 527 couldn't hold my host Sharon (by providing admission to my official debut at Citi Field, she became Camp Avnet for this millennium) and me. First we were gonna get a hot beverage and come back. Then the line was long and it was growing colder. Colder and windier. I'm almost certain this space in Flushing Meadows Corona Park is more frigid than our previous space in Flushing Meadows Corona Park. I'm bringing a thermometer next time to check for evidence. Anyway, once Sharon got coffee and I got pudding (Kozy Shack survived the move), we decided to try our luck in those generally unattended seats that are scattered about, presumably intended for the differently abled. Well, there was nothing marking them as forbidden and nobody had claimed them and, most importantly, nobody was stopping us, so we sat down in two of them for an inning. And an inning became three innings or so. It was there we watched Ramon Castro validate his presence on the roster. It was there we felt a legitimate “Let's Go Mets!” rise from this shoebox of a ballpark. It was there I grew used to watching the Mets come back on the Padres at Citi Field or at least try their half-assiest.
We shifted our act to the right field Field Level corner for the ninth, partly to get a jump on the exit after we managed a rousing come-from-behind walkoff victory and partly because of the shock that you can do that at Citi Field. In a way this was self-defeating because I wanted to experience the game as a regular game, watching it mostly from my assigned seat. But this is Citi Field, where you're allowed to roam, so it's hard to resist the temptation. It's April; it's cold; we roamed where we wanted, standing still long enough to watch Carlos Delgado — he who bombed Jake Peavy in the first — stand still and take a pitch that was too close to argue to close out the night.
Except for two homers, the game totally, totally sucked. We lost to Chase Headley & Co., which was hard to ignore, even on this personally historic occasion. But I gained a little more feel for the ballpark that will be mine even as the feeling in my legs began to grow icy by the sixth. I'd like to try Citi Field when it's more familiar and less frigid. I'd like to see the line score next to Mets overshadow whatever's above it, too. Until then, everything's pretty good, not bad, generally incomplete. That'll be filled in eventually. For now, I can fill in this:
It's just the first line in The Second Log, the first night of the rest of my Metgoing life. More whelm presumably to come.
How did we get to Citi Field? Retrace our steps through Faith and Fear in Flushing: An Intense Personal History of the New York Mets, available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble or a bookstore near you. Keep in touch and join the discussion on Facebook.
As someone who also had a Maiden Voyage last night, agree on all counts. Xtreme cold, ugly game, nice park invites wandering, good food.
Disappointed they wouldn't let me into the Promenade level club.
my host Sharon (by providing admission to my debut at Citi Field, she became Camp Avnet for this millennium)
But without the salami ;)
It was great hanging out with you, despite the disappointing game.
Three things I noticed at Citi last night.
1) To echo your remark, it is more frigid in the Promenade than I can ever remember it being in Upper Deck.
2) It takes forever to get OUT of the ballpark after a loss. Maybe a W helps the trek become easier…
3) The buckets protruding from the men's bathrooms are awkwardly positioned. In looking for an open urinal I saw way too much accidental schlong
Well you are situated at like the farthest corner of the place ;-)
I was also standing near an exit on the field level (as were hundreds) by the press gate exit apparently. I did get yelled at by an usher for grabbing one of the handicap seats during Murphy's at-bat.
I also got kicked of the bullpen seating area during batting practice. (politely for what it's worth)
I took in yesterday's game as a single roamer to see how that would be since I do find myself there alone occasionally. It was also warmer to be standing and moving. (It's small solace, but the clubhouse shops are all heated. Sometimes a quick 5 min between inning jaunt can take the chill off, and they have tv) I found it held up nicely. By the end of the game it did get crowded in a lot of the viewing areas. I think a lot of people, like you, got up from their Promenade outfield seats and walked around, moved, left. I did find standing room was better on the Promenade than the Field for the most part. Plenty of places to stand and lean out of people's way up there and still have a great view of the game. The field level has a ton of standing room tables and even cup holders. (Those two items make me think they will eventually get around to selling standing room tickets)
I walked around the entire stadium on ever level i could. I took a zillion pictures. (350) There are only a couple of spots that i would actively seek to avoid, and all of them in the far outfield.
Gate Jess – E for a meetup? Is that a good choice? I'll have to meet my brother somewhere for a game in May.
Hi Greg,
Since you and Sharon moved around and sat in other seats, why didn't you try out those empty ones in the first few rows behind home plate? I counted at least 25 unoccupied and that was limited to the small portion zoomed in by the centerfield camera.
Luxury boxes there for the taking… from the taken.
Regarding the so-called “obstructions”:
First of all, let's make the distinction between obstructions and blind spots. Blind spots are what everybody is complaining about–not being able to see a corner of the field. An obstruction is when something is in front of you. And some of that exists at Citi too, which strangely nobody is complaining about, but if you're sitting in seats 1 and 2 in the first few rows of the promenade reserved, your view is blocked by the plexiglass staircase:
http://img17.imageshack.us/img17/9909/005oztozo.jpg
As far as the blind spots go, the Mets are getting such bad publicity for this because people aren't understanding the reason.
Now, in Shea, if you were sitting in the upper deck, about halfway between first or third base and the foul pole, your view would be something like this:
http://img15.imageshack.us/img15/3760/20080924004.jpg
That view wasn't even tolerable. You were so far away from the game that it wasn't pleasant to sit there by any means.
Now, you get a view that's something like this:
http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/3752/20090416002.jpg
The seats are not only pushed right against the field, but they're angled in towards home plate. But in order to get that closeness, you're stuck with this:
http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/6897/20090416003.jpg
So, it's all a matter of give and take–by giving the seats a good view of home plate, you're giving up the corner.
Excellent pictures. I've got some myself from last night that I'm sorting through now.
In a lot of cases, the obstructions come with tv access. so if you have to watch 2-3 plays on the tv a game, big deal.
I'd say there are one or two sections where the blind spots border on too much, but these are outfield seats, and are obviously, and priced as such, the worst seats in the place.
Your nomenclature may be more accurate than mine, so let's call them blind spots.
I found the blind spots a little disconcerting. Not an out-and-out failure of architecture, but surprising at how they cut off a slice of the park. And though I appreciate the tilting of the seats toward home, I have to say I didn't feel “on top of the action” to use one of the buzzphrases the Mets have. I felt I was watching from left field Mezzanine, angled in somewhat, but still not particularly close. A more human-scaled Upper Deck. But I wasn't getting the sensation of intimacy. The Shea picture you posted…I sat in seats like those many times and accepted the distance as a fact of life, so maybe the blind spots will become the new distance and after a while I won't even think about it.
I'll be in the Prom Saturday and somewhere in left (the Landing?) Sunday, so I'll keep in mind the tradeoffs. But if you can't see a ball, you can't see a ball. At the moment one goes into the corner and you're wondering “where? where?” it is bound to be frustrating.
I'll let ya know. Just wanted to pick a spot that wasn't “in front of the Rotunda” for someone who hasn't been there because on a Sunday at noon, I'm thinking in front of the Rotunda will be a little vague and crowded.
Plus it's Jesse. Maybe we'll find his glove.
Ooops. Nevermind. I think my seats are much closer to the final shot you posted.
Great post. I felt that sensation of strangeness the whole time I was there for the Red Sox exhibition game. And I kept being struck by just how small it was. I sat behind the left foul pole and had an obstructed view of some of the outfield, but I really didn't mind… I accepted their explanation that if you want to be that close to the action, you're going to miss some of fair territory. But on the other hand, I was sitting two rows away from the edge so maybe I missed less than other people.
And, as ever, you're a gifted photographer.
Last night was my second visit after the April 4 exhibition game, and I am really loving the new park. I love walking around, I love the views from the promenade, I love the food, I love that bullpen area with the homerun apple. I love the picnic benches everywhere. I love the flatscreens showing the game while you wait in line for food. It's all so awesome.
I hope this doesn't come across the wrong way, because I know a lot of folks here are lifetime fans. As an NYC transplant, I made my first visit to Shea in 2001, and didn't really call myself a Mets fan until 2003. All of the faults of Shea that have been acknowledged on this blog–a lot of employees were pretty rude, the interior was difficult to navigate, especially when it was crowded, you felt sort of trapped in your section for the duration of most games unless it was a blowout and everyone else left, ushers were especially rude when you didn't give them a dollar for pointing in the general direction of your seats, other than hot dogs the food was terrible, the plumbing had seen better days–imagine how all that looked to adults with zero childhood memories of the place, players who are coming up now who weren't even born in 1986, and children who were making their first visits to the park between 2005 and last year.
The outpouring of love for Shea last year made me realize why I've gotten so attached to the team these past few years. But, I've got to say, I don't really understand all the kvetching in the press and on the blogs about the new park. I think it's gorgeous. And from my limited experience there, it seems like you're more likely to run into people, meet people while eating, strike up conversations. Watch the game from a variety of angles. It's just a really awesome place.
I agree with everyone, though. They really should put in a decent sized, fan accessible hall of fame in this park. There's PLENTY of room for it, and it really is tough to understand why that wasn't part of the plan from the beginning. I mean, I respect the team's unspoken, uber-strict retired numbers policy. And, I think the Gary, Keith and Ron team is awesome, not just for Keith and Ron's connection with 1986, but because they're easily one of the most intelligent and entertaining game-calling teams in the sport. I really liked the Say Goodbye to Shea ceremony, and the fact that they reran it all winter on SNY. And I think building the new park not just as a monument to the Mets, but as a monument to the National League's history in New York makes the Mets look like a better and smarter organization than the Yankees, who basically just built a bigger and more expensive monument to themselves in the Bronx.
So I DO see a respect for history coming from the Wilpons. But, yeah, it really would be nice to have a place in the park where you could go and take a look at some memorabilia or learn a few things about the team's history. They've got everything else at that place, including a dunk tank.
posted some of them: http://www.ceetar.com/optimisticmetsfan/2009/04/game-3-padres-at-citi-field/
also a link to the album with virtually every view from the promenade http://picasaweb.google.com/ceetar/041609_Padres#
and a video of hte promenade food court, which is cool: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6pexC8XGLgc
I lived and died for Shea, but I understand. I went to RFK in 2005 and thought “this is the worst ballpark I have EVER experienced,” and yet it was very very similar to my beloved donut in Queens. It's all about the memories.
The hope is in 20 years when people are still complaining about sightlines and obstructed views at Citi that we simply won't care because we've attached ourselves to it, faults and all, like we do the Mets.
So far (sample size = very small) I'm partial to the Swoboda gate myself. First alternate entrance from the subway, short lines. Just don't emulate Rocky's dive when your party arrives.
Clearly the debate on the seats is going to take a while to play out — part of the problem is a lot of us have no idea what's normal for HOK-style parks. For instance, Greg and I were baffled and mildly offended to not be able to get into the Caeser's Club with our field-level tix for one exhibition game, because we were used to being able to walk around the entire concourse and figured field level trumped all. It was news to us, but not to lots of other fans, I bet.
And it doesn't help that it's only human to forget old bad stuff — Shea had blind spots, none more hideous than those U-boat views from the very back of the loge.
Regarding obstructed vs. blind spot, though, I think the Mets are doing themselves no favors by bandying semantics. How is my view from parts of the Promenade not obstructed? Granted, the STADIUM's the thing in the way (grin) and the geometry makes it inevitable, but still. There are drawbacks to those seats and the questions are if fans are adequately informed and if ticket prices reflect that properly.
The good news, to me, is both those things seem fixable.
I feel like the blind spots will become a part of life, much like the distance was.
I gotta say, when I was in the 400 section vs the Red Sox, I had to tilt my head to see home, and was kinda cheezed about that. Funny thing is, I never considered head-tilting a big deal because I sat in the UD so often at Shea, and it was never a problem there. If you were sitting in Field Reserved way down the first base line, I can understand the improvement.
Again, I think so much of this angst towards Citi is because the Mets made unrealistic promises and mislead us in regards to watching the game. All the non-game activity is 5 stars, but… we're there for the game, not the dunk tanks.
In regards to that blind spot, it will have its amazingly frustrating moments. Sitting in Section 46 of the Upper Deck at Shea for the Pratt game meant we had no idea of Cookie was right or wrong about arguing the foul call. I guess at Citi the trick will be to find the nearest TV.
I barely passed geometry, but once you've come down the subway steps, the LF and the RF gates would appear to be pretty much equidistant. Symmetry may be missing from the outfield, but I'm looking at a two-page spread in the yearbook and it looks as if both gates are at the same point on their respective sides of the park. Other than La Rotunda, there is no closest to the 7.
I chose Jesse, FYI, because the person I'm going with Sunday asked if I had a new Gate E meeting spot. I figured I'd go with the one closest to Gate E for now. Small homage.
Yeah, definitely a question of just getting used to it. I'm just bothered by the fact that we finally have a beautiful (not perfect, but a great place) new park and the Mets are getting all of this bad press, and making it seem like the Mets designed a place in which part of the field is cut off for no reason. “Citi Field has major issues,” I believe is what Evan Roberts said. Whether or not we like it, at least there's a good reason for it.
Either way, the blind spots are completely unavoidable if they want to make reasonably good outfield seats. At Citizens Bank Park, the stands run parallel to the foul line until you're about halfway out into the outfield, so it's less dramatic there, but once you move out into the seats that are angled, it would look the same way. http://www.virtualbirdseye.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/citizens-bank-park-birds-eye-view.jpg
As opposed to at Citi, where the stands are tapered in towards the foul line pretty much the whole way down the line, with the more dramatic angle starting earlier:
http://imgsrv.wcbs880.com/image/DbLiteGraphic/200904/4196145.jpg
All of these people calling up WFAN also seem to have selective memory when it came to Shea:
http://img12.imageshack.us/img12/5835/metshomeopener200804081.jpg
As far as your LF Landing seats go, they'll give you a nice panoramic view of the field, but of course (and why this has come as a shock to so many callers I don't know–it's pretty much common sense), you won't be able to see the LF wall below you.
http://img13.imageshack.us/img13/5674/098jmt.jpg
The left field landing seats may be one of the more overrated sections though, because those seats seem to be more expensive than they should be. There is a long expanse of the wall cut off. In this view (granted, i'm standing so this is worse than any seat) you can't see the apple. http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/rgRqw4ZEFbWoEH6xCsAB3Q?feat=directlink
As far as your LF Landing seats go, they'll give you a nice panoramic view of the field, but of course (and why this has come as a shock to so many callers I don't know–it's pretty much common sense), you won't be able to see the LF wall below you.
Definitely experienced that in Philadelphia a couple of years ago. Deep fly to left and…hey, I can't see what happened — guess this is what life will be like at Citi Field sometimes.
One of the cherished memories I hold of Shea is the day in 1980 my friend Joel and I had marvelous seats on the first base side and we agreed we could see everything but the RF corner. Soon enough, a ball was hit out that way, in the general direction of Jerry Morales. The ball and Morales disappeared from view. The ball emerged without Jerry Morales. For the rest of our Shea days, we referred to the Jerry Morales Seats, and any time I couldn't see something, I just reasoned it away as “Jerry Morales.”
Time imbued Shea with charm the objective visitor never could have inferred. May time have the same effect here when the ball is temporarily out of view.
Deep fly to left and…hey, I can't see what happened — guess this is what life will be like at Citi Field sometimes.
I was in Section 334 on Opening Night and had to pick up the third base umpire to figure out what happened on what turned out to be Wright's three run home run.
I guess that's the thing. I may have just been lucky (or, more accurately, the friends who were kind enough to invite me have been lucky) with seating, because the views looked great to me. A few rows back in the promenade really did remind me of mezzanine seats at Shea.
I does seem like seatholders near the stairs may have gotten a bit of a raw deal. But with regard to mildly cut-off views of left and right, if a ball is hit hard and it looks like it might go out, or if it's driven into either corner, everyone is going to stand up to see it better, regardless. Everyone did that at Shea, too.
I've only been to half a dozen other new-ish parks, so I can't speak with much authority about how Citi Field stacks up against recent competition. And, there's a good possibility that I'm just infatuated with it's newness and the fact that it's filled with fellow Mets fans. But, when John Maine gave up 5 in the 3rd last night, it was great that I didn't have to sit there and stew. You can walk around, check out an inning from an outfield picnic table, meet friends for a few minutes, check out the relievers warming up 15 feet away from you in that bullpen area, and then go buckle down when it looks like they might be making a comeback. It just felt really “fan-friendly” to use a horrible word.
we went on Wednesday night got there early and walked the whole park looking at views I went after hearing a lot of negatives about citi but after looking around I thought it was a beautiful place I relay like that you can walk around the Promenade and choose to stand and watch for a while if you want which people behind us did we sat in section 101 and the view was wonderful even without seeing the right field wall which we expected. Now being a Mets fan since 72 Shea held a lot of memories and seeing it close bought a few tears but we were ready for a new home and the only thing missing from citi field is memories which will come and make IT feel like home
And that's a pretty big deal. I'm sure many of us pace at home. Citi Field for better or worse, can cater to that. If you got up to pace at Shea you'd miss the action.
To paraphrase the Bard…
The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in the views, but in the price…
Shakespeare…
2003 Value price $8. 2009 Value price $11.
2003 Gold price $18. 2009 Gold price $23.
Yes, blind spots cannot be avoided, however, if Citifield was designed just a little bit differently, those would have been at the bare minimum.
Had the outfield wall been a bit lower, less of the warning track would be hidden from those sitting behind it. Had the front of the left field prominade begun a little bit further back, more of the outfield would be seen by those higher up. Had the outfield field level seats begun a few rows further back fair territory in the corners could be seen by most (Gary Cohn lost sight of the ball from his vantage point even though he was behind HOME PLATE). Like the players in the dugout, fans sitting in the high priced field level infield seats see none of the corner action on their side.
Minor changes that would have allowed more of the playing field to be seen.
Went to the game with a friend who is a Yankee fan. He was enormously PO'ed every time Chase Headley did something well, which that night was often. Surprised he would be so into it, I asked him if his first game at Citi Field was turning him into a Mets fan. He replied that Chase Headley was on his crappy fantasy baseball team and showed me on his Blackberry how many points Headley's performance was costing him.