I've been on a bit of an unplanned, unannounced hiatus of sorts, not because of any particular reason, I guess I just didn't have anything in particular to write about. Nothing noteworthy has happened, as far as the Mets are concerned, at least as it pertains to me. And, I suppose, that was probably a good thing. As a Mets fan, there's not much one can do right now except for just lay low. Maybe reflect on some prior glory (Always welcome and needed in these difficult times). Maybe some of us petulantly declared our fandom in open forums such as Facebook (not naming names or anything...!). But, otherwise, just lay low and wait for something to happen. That is, if something happens. There's talk, but then again, there's always talk. I have this somewhat faint hope that Roy Halladay will be sitting under my Chanukah Bush next month, but I fear that not a likely scenario. Stranger things, however, have happened.
There have been odd snippets that have popped up over the past few days about things the Mets are doing to their stadium and their uniforms to try to acknowledge the history of the Mets. And it is a History that shouldn't be ignored. It was mentioned to me late in the 2009 season that the lack of Mets History in Citi Field was, perhaps, the brainchild of the Boy-King, who for some reason felt that our beloved Shea Stadium was cursed and the time the Mets spent there should be ignored. It's hearsay, but if it's true, then the Mets owners are, perhaps, even dumber than we give them credit for being. Asking a Mets fan to ignore the Mets past is, perhaps, akin to asking the Sun to not rise in the morning. It's not going to happen. And if you try to make us ignore it, well, the backlash can be rather nasty. So, the Mets are doing what they should have done in the first place and making Citi Field into a place that will celebrate the history of the team that plays there. Wonderful. After last season, Fabulous Freddie and the Boy-King had better listen to what the fans want. Was that really so hard?
Then, there's this whole cream-colored uniform thing, which is kind of ridiculous, if you ask me. I'll be honest, I don't care what kind of uniforms the Mets wear. They could be beet red with lime green pinstripes and a lavender accent. The uniform doesn't matter so long as the team wins. So, when they announce things like this, I have a tendency to ignore it because personnel moves should be of paramount importance right now, not clothing. However, Paul Lukas at the Uni Watch took this as the impetus to launch a full-scale diatribe at Fabulous Freddie and the Boy-King, saying what I'm sure most Mets fans feel right now. I'll just let Paul do the screaming for me on this matter.
But there was one thing Met-related that did pertain to me this week. On Tuesday, I got a letter from the Mets. I was pretty sure I knew what it was before I even opened it, and, of course I was right. Inside was an invoice for a 2010 Weekday 15-game plan, which included a schedule and a list of the 2010 plan dates. The promised "discount" wasn't much of a discount. I suppose I should be happy with what I get from them. A drop of $20 per plan isn't much, but it's something, right? One thing I didn't expect was that they were expecting me to renew for the same seats I had last year. I've taken many pictures from those seats (and even of those seats).
I seem to be of a small sliver of the Mets fan base who had the following feelings about Citi Field. 1) The seats were, all things considered, fairly reasonably priced for a new stadium where ridiculous ticket prices were thought to be the norm. 2) I didn't have a problem with the seats. Though they were in the last row, they weren't obstructed, they weren't somehow blocking my view of any major part of the field, and they were near a bathroom and an exit. But, they were still in the last row. And I was hoping that I would be able to upgrade these seats. I'm new to this whole season-to-season seating thing, so I figured it would probably be worth my while to call the Mets and see if I could change my seats. Not surprisingly, I got on the phone right away with a woman who was all too happy to help me out, though at first she seemed convinced that I was calling to cancel my plan and tell Jeffy-poo to kiss off. I'm sure she's gotten that call more than a few times. She seemed somewhat pleasantly surprised when I said, "I'd like to renew, but I'd like to see if I can move my seats." She said they could try to accommodate me, but they had to know how many plan holders were renewing for 2010. I can't imagine that every plan holder from 2009 is. But they wouldn't know until December 18th, so I should renew, and they will leave this note on my account and will contact me after December 18th to see if I can be moved. That was, all things considered, rather helpful and nice of them. Hell, if I pay online, I can even pay off the tickets in two separate payments.
There is, I'm sure, a certain segment who would scoff at me for renewing and willingly hand my money over to a pair of half-wits who will probably throw it in the air and run around screaming. But how could I not renew? The Mets are, as many of my loyal readers are aware, my one big luxury in life. Going to games is my escape, it's my sanctuary. I don't think it mattered how bad the Mets were in 2009 or how bad things look for 2010. I'm going to be there. I don't think that was ever in much doubt. Sure, I joked about it. I asked for suggestions such as using the invoice as toilet paper. One friend suggested I go to each game, put a sign on my seat that read "FIRE OMAR" and walk out. No, I'll be there. I may feel stupid for doing it, but I'll be there.