Citi Field – Welcome Home – Part 1
For a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that I live in San Francisco, I haven’t seen the Mets play at home in twenty-two years. But on Wednesday, August 31st, I finally saw the Mets play at Citi Field, where they defeated the Florida Marlins by a score of 3 to 2. It was a dazzling day that I will never forget.
Riding the 7: It started early that morning at the New York City Transit Museum, where I learned that the subway cars on the 7 line, which took me to Shea Stadium more times than I can recall, have been replaced. The museum has a vast collection of retired subway cars, and I found my way to a 7 car where I sat contentedly, dreaming that I was being whisked away to the big Shea. I closed my eyes and the memories came flooding back. I recalled good times talking about the team with friends and fans, dismay after the Mets found yet another unimaginable way to lose another game, the weird characters on the car and the way all that humanity was shoe horned into a single car. At that moment a sentient soul came along and asked me if I wanted my picture taken. I said yes and the result is displayed on the left. My ride to the game had started right then and there. I left the Museum with a smile on my face that spread from ear to ear.
A Familiar Sight: In the late afternoon I rode the new subway cars to Citi Field. The pedestrian walkways were the same ones I traversed when I first walked on them in 1964. I reveled in being surrounded by a sea of orange and blue. Some guy was playing a “Meet the Mets” solo on his trumpet. Everyone sounded like a New Yorker. Another guy was hawking Mets t-shirts which he threatened would cost much more at the Clubhouse Store. I asked if he honored my “Club Mets” card with its 15% discount and he said no. Harrumph! What kind of a bargain is that?
The Big Apple: The old big apple from Shea is there, just outside Citi Field. It’s surrounded by a lovely flower garden that is elevated two and half feet above the sidewalk. I decided I wanted to have my picture taken in front of it. While attempting to scale that Everest-like height I suddenly realized I was no longer young and limber. When I almost fell and crushed a five-year old child, I swear I could hear Bob Murphy announcing that the Big “E” had lit up on the Rheingold scoreboard. I finally got up there and a Mets employee started snapping away. “Try not to make me look too fat,” I called out. The guy, clearly a New Yorker, humorously replied “I’m a photographer, not a miracle worker!” A good-natured insult! Home! I wiped the grimace off my face and let a smile out, pumping my fists all the while.
The Ticket Counter: Off to the ticket counter. I told a charming lady named Patricya my story… moved to San Francisco after the blizzards of ’78… last home game in June of ’89… first time back in 20 years… and on and on. She graced me with a great ticket at a HUGE discount, and when she gave it to me she said warmly, “welcome home.”
Jackie Robinson Rotunda: Into the Jackie Robinson Rotunda I go. It’s an impressive space and appropriate that he be honored in the New York National League franchise’s home. I hold this ultimate lead-off hitter in the highest esteem.
Mets Team Clubhouse: Next up is the Mets Team Clubhouse for some aerobic shopping! What’s this… a sale on replica jerseys? Buy one of the team jerseys, and they will personalize another one with your name and choice of number on it, at no additional charge? Sold! I’ll take a #7 Reyes, and a #41 Michael.
Mets Museum & Hall of Fame: Whoa. Into the Mets Hall of Fame & Museum for a quick look. All is well, except my stomach, which was growling. I decided it’s time to go to the most popular destination at Citi Field…
The Shake Shack! After a twenty-minute wait, I ordered a burger, fries and coke. I’ll worry about my girlish figure another time. I ambled up to a table with no stools and only one gentleman. After putting everything I had on the table, arranging it just so, taking my backpack off and breathing a long, satisfying sigh of relief, I asked if I could join him. Of course he said yes. Mets fans always say yes to each other. It wasn’t long before we struck up a conversation and were chatting away like a couple of old pals. In between trading points with the gentleman, I devoured my burger and fries, which were delicious. Now I get what all the Shake Shack fuss is all about.
I Sit Where? I’m ready to settle into my seat when I discover someone’s already in it. He was part of a group of guys who “moved down” closer to the action. After he surrendered “my” seat, I saw the view for myself. I was in the second deck on the third base line, which was very nice. I like our new yard. It has its problems, like all stadiums, but it sure looks good to me.
Howdy, Neighbor: It’s always a cosmic roll of the dice when it comes to who is sitting close by. This was an interesting roll, to say the least. To my left was a young couple, a handsome fellow with a gorgeous girlfriend. What game? To my right was a Father with two young sons. The kids were very chatty, but the Dad was terrific, a knowledgeable baseball guy and Mets fan. In the row below were “the guys,” a foursome who were fun to talk to, knew all the Mets history and engaged in conversation throughout the game.
Coming Soon!
Welcome Home – Part 2: The Game.
Comments