Everything In Its Right Place

Monday's season lid-lifter at Citi Field was about everything you could ask for as far as the results of the first game of the season. The weather, which had heretofore been kind of dicey and in April at Citi Field can be downright brutal, suddenly turned bright and sunny and warm at around 11am, right around the time I arrived at Citi Field. George was with me as per usual, marking what I believe is 11 of the last 13 Opening Day games we've been present for. Howie Rose was on the field by 12:40 to blow the Shofar and welcome us to the 2017 National League season in New York, fans warmly welcomed back our team, as well as some fondly-remembered players on the opposing side, and then it was business time. Noah Syndergaard hit the mound and pitched, well, basically the way you'd expect him to pitch, mixing things up, getting out of jams and keeping the Braves off the scoreboard until a blister forced him from the game after 6 innings. The Mets had a hard time with Julio Teheran—because they always have a hard time with Julio Teheran—until he departed in the 7th, where the Mets capitalized on a replay reversal and then bombed the Atlanta bullpen into submission and cruised home with a 6-0 victory to start their season.

It had been some time since I'd seen George; this offseason has been somewhat checkered for me and certainly from a mental standpoint, though I might not have been especially prepared for it, I was more than ready to get back to the sanctuary of Citi Field. But at any rate I spent most of the pregame discussing with him reasons why I believe now that the Mets are going to win the World Series this season, and really, what it boils down to more than anything is that it's simply their time in the arc of this era, if this era of the Mets is going to be what we want it to be. They had the near-miss, they had the regression and somehow turned it into another near-miss, so now, it's time to strike.

But that was preamble and there was still the matter of seats and ceremonies and concessions and hordes of people to work through. I'd mentioned I upgraded my seats; after four years of bouncing between sections 512 and 513, I've moved down to 418, because it's just time for a change. However, the Mets for whatever reason decided to get cute and put me in different seats for Opening Day. Different seats being Section 106, sure, it's the Field level, but it's jammed down in the Right Field Corner. Not exactly where I would have preferred to sit. For one, you can't see the field directly in front of you. Two, you can't see the scoreboard above Right Field, which is where important things like pitch count and scoring calls are generally displayed. Three, because it's the Field Level, and because of the assorted "entertainment" options down there, it seems to be more crowded than the Promenade, and for whatever reason it seems there are substantially fewer restrooms, which is problematic...

...and as you can see in this video, you're kind of displaced from the action. But on the upside I got a real good view of Syndergaard's pregame routine.

Also a lovely view of Bartolo Colon's backside as he was introduced to a roaring ovation.

And then it was time to introduce our guys...

...and get hyped...

...And, finally, get on with the show!

The game from that point was a little bit of a blur, for a few reasons. For one, I, and this should illustrate how ill-prepared I was for Opening Day, didn't eat anything before the game. I almost always get something to eat before the game but for whatever reason, I waited. At the end of the 1st inning, I got up to use the restroom, thinking it would be quick and painless. WRONG. I attempted to use the restroom by Section 103 only to find the line stretching across the concourse and in fact splitting into two lines because everyone stopped caring. So that was already a clusterfuck. Then, I decided to get something to eat while I was up, and found the most palatable line to be at the Sausage stand by Section 105. Only I got on line somewhere in the bottom of the 2nd inning and didn't return to my seat until the top of the 4th. That's a bad job by me. It's a bad job by everyone, really, because there were rumblings of credit card terminals down, but really, it was a bad job by me. That's the kind of rookie move I don't usually make.

Fortunately, in this digital age, I was able to look at my phone and catch up on my scorecard. Of course, I sat down just in time for Freddie Freeman to bang one off the Right Field fence and after Jay Bruce mangled the carom, what should have been a double was a triple and the Braves were primed to strike first. Except that Syndergaard is unmoved by these kind of things and responded by putting the Baseball version of a sleeperhold on the Braves, striking out Matt Kemp and Nick Markakis to end the threat. More trouble unfolded in the 6th when Dansby Swanson and Freeman singled and Atlanta had runners on 1st and 3rd and 1 out, but, again, Syndergaard brushed this aside by striking out Kemp again and getting Markakis to fly out, ending the threat and, of course, thanks to the infamous blister, ending his afternoon.

Still, the Mets offense was stagnant against Teheran, which as I said wasn't terribly surprising since the Mets always have trouble with him. But he too departed after 6 and the Mets attacked the Braves patently awful bullpen right away. Ian Krol was first up and he allowed a hit to Rene Rivera. Wilmer Flores followed, pinch hitting for Hansel Robles, and after being greeted with his usual standing ovation, grounded into a Fielder's choice. He then stole 2nd Base, which I suppose was his way of taking advantage of the Braves kind of falling asleep on him. Jose Reyes walked and then Asdrubal Cabrera followed with a clean single to center for his 3rd hit of the day. Flores was sent home, which if you'll recall is the play that finished his season last year, and although it seemed close he was called out at the plate. However, were I sitting in my normal seats, high up and behind Home Plate, I would have seen that Flores snuck his foot in ahead of the tag. Replay, of course, reversed the call, Flores had the first run of the season for the Mets, and the gates opened up from there. There were pitching changes, walks, more pitching changes, more walks and finally the carcass of Eric O'Flaherty was on the mound and Lucas Duda clanged one off the Center Field fence for a 3-run double that made the score 6-0 and removed any particular drama from the afternoon. Fernando Salas for the 8th, a surprise cameo by Robert Gsellman in the 9th, easy enough and off we go!

Certainly, there will be plenty of bad/irritating/exasperating things to happen to the Mets over the course of the subsequent 161 games. That's Baseball. The goal, really, is to minimize the issues and keep putting forth games like this when you are clearly better than your opponent. One of the Mets larger issues in 2016, besides the fact that everyone was hurt and the replacements stopped hitting for 3 months, was their inability to handle inferior teams. I'm pulling numbers out of my ass but I believe they were something like 7-12 against Atlanta and an equivalent of bad against other non-division lousy teams, and those 7 wins were difficult wins. By and large the Mets should win more of these games this season. Yesterday was a good start.

A Man for All Time, A Team for None

I wasn't at Citi Field last night for the retirement ceremony of Mike Piazza's number 31. I'm not proud of this fact. I do feel as though I missed out on something pretty special. Considering how many of Piazza's iconic moments I was present for, yeah, I probably should have been there. Think about it. I've gone over many times just how much Piazza is revered by all Mets fans, and just how deserving he is of the honor. I can go back to the day he was acquired on May 22nd, 1998, hearing about it as it happened on Mike & The Mad Dog, and then being there and being part of the welcome wagon that following Saturday afternoon, and being there for 27 memorable Home Runs, and being there on September 21, 2001, and being there when he hit his 352nd Home Run as a Catcher in 2004, and on his last day on October 2nd, 2005. I was even there the night he came back with the Padres and hit two Home Runs off of Pedro Martinez. Want me to keep going? Last game at Shea. First game at Citi Field. Mets Hall of Fame induction. Throwing out the first pitch at the World Series last year. Should I have gone last night? Yeah. Probably.

But as I'd mentioned yesterday, the Mets performance over the past several days just took me out of it. Plus, you know, the ceremony is readily available for viewing here. So, regrettably, I was not there.

Yeah, I'll probably hate myself a little bit for missing this piece of Mets history.

On the other hand, I won't hate myself for missing the 9-inning turd sandwich the current version of the Mets treated the sellout crowd to after the ceremonies concluded.

Usually, when the Mets hold a big ceremony, it doesn't bode well for the game to follow (or precede in the case of the closing of Shea Stadium). It's really weird. The Mets do a wonderful job of feting their conquering heroes. You can complain about a lot of things the Mets do, but when it comes to honoring champions and past heroes on the field, in front of the fans, it never disappoints. Unfortunately, juxtapose the ceremony and the honoree against what the team puts out on the field, and there's a major disconnect. The Mets do a wonderful job of throwing a really nice party, and then completely shitting the bed afterward.

Mike Piazza is and will always be remembered as a Mets hero for all times, and as he instructed us, whenever the team needs some inspiration, just look to the top of the stadium in the Left Field corner at that newly-minted 31 plaque and remember that Ol' Mikey is always there with us. Unfortunately, he can't will the team to hit right now. In fact, Mike at age 47 could conceivably do a better job of driving in some runs than half the lineup the Mets threw out there last night. Bartolo Colon on short rest didn't have it. Once again, the Mets were throttled by the Colorados and Jorge De La Rosa, who I think has made a career out of pitching to a 5.38 ERA, had no problem swatting away the Mets hitters like flies.

I seem to keep finding these weird parallels between this year's Mets team and some historic era Mets team, and right now, maybe these Mets are like the early-1998 Mets, before Piazza showed up on May 23rd. They're a nice little team with no particular direction, except that right now, there's no Mike Piazza floating around on the open market to be acquired and save everyone's hide. I know that everyone seems to be hot on Jonathan Lucroy, but the Brewers seem to want a king's ransom in return and he's already rejected a trade to the Cleveland Indians, so that's a bad sign. Plus I seem to remember hearing somewhere that he didn't want to play in New York, so there's that little wrinkle too. Regardless, for as much as Lucroy might be viewed as such, he's no Piazza. One player isn't going to fix the issues here and I wonder if the what the Mets really need is a sports psychiatrist and maybe a team-wide prescription for Lexapro or Ativan so they all relax a little bit.

Otherwise, 2016 will just dissolve into 2012, the team will fade back into obscurity and all the haters will crawl back out of their caves, pointing and laughing and screaming about how last year was a fluke and now the real Mets have come back (duh slobbuh drool see yuh next week).

Air Out Of Building

As much as I hate to say it, the scene at Citi Field last night kind of had all the makings of a major letdown as far as the game itself was concerned.

The Mets, in something that's often not spoken about, have a bit of a history of having these big, glitzy ceremonies where they roll out the red carpet for past heroes before a big game, and then they go out and shit the bed. It's happened more times than I care to remember.

They went out and did it again last night. After what I'm told was a very moving tribute to the 1986 World Series Champions (And no, I didn't actually see it—thanks to the game being on FOX, the ceremonies weren't shown on TV and I haven't had a chance to stream it yet), the Mets were then thoroughly humiliated by the Dodgers and the Umpires in a 9-1 disaster of a game.

This was another one of those nights where I wasn't actually around for most of the game, so I wasn't witness to the compounding bullshit that the Mets were subjected to, but since the game was on FOX, that means everyone's favorite dickheads, Joe Buck and Ken Rosenthal were on hand. Which means Joe Buck spent the entire game sneering at the Mets and Ken Rosenthal buried his head up the Dodgers' asses. I don't need to have seen the game to know this.

Noah Syndergaard matched up against Kenta Maeda. Last time this happened, things worked out pretty well for the Mets. It seemed headed in a similar direction until the 3rd inning when Syndergaard whipped a 99-MPH fastball behind Chase Utley. You didn't need to be a genius to know that something like this was coming. Even Utley expected it, and I suppose had the pitch drilled him, he would have just taken his lumps and gone to 1st base, because for as much of a jackass as he is, he's still a pro and knows when to take his medicine. Generally, these things are met with a warning and then it blows over. But for whatever reason, Adam Hamari, the home plate umpire, who I wouldn't know from a hole in the wall, ejected Syndergaard from the game immediately. Again, I don't really bring Umpires into the equation unless they make a severely poor error of judgement and need to be called out on it. Hamari was totally out of his element on this one. Give Syndergaard a warning and leave it at that. Terry Collins blew his stack at Hamari and got himself ejected as well, and, well, can you blame him?

Essentially, Adam Hamari nuked this game for the Mets. Instead of Syndergaard on the mound doing Syndergaard things, the Mets now had to bring Logan Verrett in in the 3rd inning, and he did yeoman's work until the 6th when Utley hit a Home Run. Because of course he did. Then, in the 7th, he hit a Grand Slam off Hansel Robles. Because of course he did. Because if you didn't hate Utley enough already, this was going to be the night he made sure he placed his name at or near the top of all-time Mets Villains, depending on who you ask on which day.

So, you tell me. You think Utley goes apeshit like that against Syndergaard? Yeah, me neither. Thanks, Adam Hamari. You basically screwed the Mets out of this game. I'm sure Joe Buck and Ken Rosenthal sent you flowers this morning. They must have loved watching this shit show unfold. I turned the game on sometime around the 8th inning—lord only knows why since I knew it was done with—and you could hear the glee dripping from Buck's voice. After the game, they threw it to the studio, where they have a real announcer named Kevin Burkhart—remember him?—and he was clearly incensed at what he'd just been subjected to. It seems like most everyone feels the same way. Sometimes, you just need to let the players police themselves, because outside of this, it's not as though the Mets and Dodgers have some stewing animosity toward each other. Instead, the Mets end up looking like clowns on National Television once again. Thanks, Hamari. You Ass.

The Place To Be!

There was, of course, no better place for any Mets fan to be on Friday afternoon than at Citi Field for the 2016 Home Opener. I was, as promised, there at 11am, and in spite of the fact that I'd left my house later than I would have liked, I was still there on time, which means that had I left when I had intended to, I would have been there, what, 10:30? George was there as well, and in fact beat me by a few minutes, but it seemed a bit of a fruitless exercise because the gates hadn't yet opened when we arrived, and so we were reduced to standing along the perimeter of the masses that had gathered outside the Rotunda, ready to get in and get their slice of Baseball Nirvana.

We did, eventually, make it inside, and of course as per usual, did our lap around the Field Level, just to see what was new since we'd last sojourned to Flushing. Lines had already formed at the usual places, Shake Shack, Pat LaFreida's, and at the new David Chang Fuku outlet, which seems to have either truncated or bumped completely the Lobster Roll stand. I will, I'm sure, have to try this mythical sandwich, but today was not the day; my aptitude for waiting on long lines for food has vanished completely, as opposed to my aptitude for sitting in Arctic conditions at Citi Field in April, which has grown tired but may never evaporate.

Eventually, we did get upstairs, and to our seats, just in time for the Opening Ceremonies and the proverbial blowing of the Shofar. I have, of course, captured everything for you loyal readers who were either unable to attend or wish to relive it, and thanks to an offseason acquisition of a new camera, I bring it to you in eye-popping HD, as opposed to an iPhone video. The difference is stark.

This video ran us through the history of Mets Pantheon years and events leading up to last season, I was late in joining it but nonetheless, you get the idea. I'd already taken note of the most notable new addition to Citi Field:

which I suppose would have been more fitting if it had been unveiled by Matt Harvey, but that's not Harvey standing there by himself in the Excelsior level, and there was already another unveiling planned, but we'll get to that later. Meanwhile, there was the Shea Family presentation of the Opening Day Wreath, which to me is, for all intents and purposes, the Baseball version of the blowing of the Shofar, which was followed by Howie Rose:

For the Baseball purist, which I consider to be just about anyone who truly embraces the National League style of play, I've always been struck by the fact that this is how Howie Rose welcomes Opening Day. It's not just the Baseball season, it's the National League season, and as I've been over many times, that National League style of Baseball is the way it ought to be done. People may not agree, I don't especially care, and the fact that Howie Rose acknowledges it as a thing means he agrees with me. It's straight business after that, of course, as Howie introduces the Phillies roster and lineup, which consisted of the carcass of Ryan Howard and a bunch of rookies and retreads and guys we'll only know because the Mets and Phillies play each other 19 times a season. They are all booed heartily, some more than others. And then, of course, our guys:

For years (and I have the videos to prove it), most of the trainers and staff got booed, with the exception of Yoshi Nishio, the massage therapist, whom everyone seems to love and I've never understood why, other than he always looks really happy to be there. This year, everyone got cheered, even Cortisone Shot Ramirez. When you go to the World Series, everyone loves you. But we'll see how long that lasts. Then, there were the players, and most hearty welcomes were reserved for Wilmer Flores, Steven Matz, Matt Harvey, Noah Syndergaard, Jeurys Familia, Michael Conforto and, of course, Bartolo Colon.

Then, there was the National Anthem. They had cast members from the musical, Hamilton on hand to perform, which is when I realized that this is now officially a Happening. Citi Field is truly the place to be. Other teams in this town that love to revel in the past seem content to beam out an image of Frank Sinatra, but we're getting guys from the hottest show in town for our party.

And then, finally, the ceremony was capped off by the raising of the Championship Banner, which feels very anticlimactic, perhaps because of the short flagpoles, or perhaps because it's not a banner for something bigger, but regardless, a banner is a banner and the Mets have a long tradition of banner waving, so here's one more:

And finally, with the shofar blown and the ceremony dispensed and the banner raised and the crowd plenty fired up, it was time to play a game:

And play the Mets did.

After the pomp and circumstance I guess the game itself is almost a sideshow. Once the ceremony is done with and everyone finally settles in to watch a game, things kind of settle down, or at least it settled down plenty this afternoon. That was probably because Jacob deGrom settled in and in spite of not having that pop on his fastball that he had last season, he still shoved aside a mostly overmatched Phillies lineup over his 6 innings of work. There were some hits, mostly singles, but when deGrom needed a strikeout he tended to get one. This, of course, with the specter of impending fatherhood hanging over him, but where such circumstance led to the undoing of other pitchers in prior seasons, deGrom seems to have the uncanny ability to not allow outside things to distract him from the task at hand. Really, the only thing that slowed him down was this nagging lat injury, which knocked him from the game after 6 innings, and while he'd have us believe it was no cause for concern, on a frigid afternoon, there was no need to push anything.

deGrom did depart with a lead in the 6th, because it was in the 6th that his teammates finally figured out Jerad Eickhoff, the young Philly starter whom the Mets saw a few times last year and had a hard time with. Eickhoff ran into some trouble in the second; partially his own doing because he was walking guys, and partially the fault of Freddy Galvis, his Shortstop, who dropped what likely would have been a double play grounder off the bat of Asdrubal Cabrera that set up the Mets first run of the game, an RBI groundout by deGrom. Though Philly did tie the game in the 6th, which seemed somewhat accidental, the Mets then stormed back in the bottom of the inning, as Lucas Duda led off with a double, Neil Walker followed with an RBI single—his "WELCOME TO NEW YORK!!" moment—and Michael Conforto drilled a double to score Walker. That settled Eickhoff.

In the 7th inning, Jim Henderson had his "WELCOME TO NEW YORK!!" moment, coming in and doing what he's done all spring and retiring the side in order, throwing heat and striking out 2 of the 3 batters he faced. For Henderson, this has to be gratifying considering he'd missed the better part of 2 seasons with injuries and basically had to prove himself worthy of a role, which he's done in spades. Sometimes, you take chances on guys like this and they work--at least this has been the case so far with Henderson.

The Mets then put the game away in the bottom of the 7th, against James Russell, who's bounced around a lot and basically fits the mold of a lefty reliever to a tee. He was in there to face the alternating lefty hitters in the Mets lineup, but he didn't do a very good job of it. He walked David Wright with 1 out, gave up a single to Yoenis Cespedes, walked Lucas Duda, and then gave up hits to Neil Walker and Conforto that plated 3 runs between them. Travis d'Arnaud then capped the scoring with his first hit of the season, a single that scored Walker and, with the game now 7-1, sent many of the frozen revelers to the exits--and some warmth.

I, however, stuck around to the finale, which got needlessly hairy in the 8th thanks to Hansel Robles' inability to get anyone out, and might have been hairier when Jerry Blevins entered the game, but after falling behind 3-0 against Odubel Herrera, but he eventually got Herrera to pop up, and this turned into a Double Play when Cesar Hernandez forgot the machinations of the Infield Fly Rule. Antonio Bastardo worked an uneventful 9th, and the Mets wrapped up a fine Opening Day with a 7-2 victory, and at least for one afternoon all was right in the world.

There are, of course, still some complaints about the service on Opening Day, when it often seems like the stadium staff is sometimes ill-prepared for 44,000 people to show up. The scorecard golf pencils were blunted, to the point where I now have an unreadable scorecard (my handwriting is bad to begin with and when I have to write with a horseshit pencil it's even worse). There were no vendors to be found in the seating areas for a majority of the game, until the pretzel guy came by in the 8th inning, which was useless because I didn't want a pretzel. I would have loved to get some pocket schedules, but there were none to be found, which happens every season.

Fortunately, I have more complaints about the ballpark than I do about the team, which is a good thing. deGrom's line was, for him, pretty standard stuff so there's not much to write about. Neil Walker had himself a nice afternoon and was in the thick of all the Mets rallies, as was Michael Conforto, who is supposed to sit against lefties, but I have a suspicion he's going to force Terry Collins to reconsider this before too long because he's hitting everyone right now. We'll see how this goes. The Mets aren't scheduled to face a lefty pitcher until I believe Tuesday.

So, the Mets have dispensed with the ceremonial portion of their schedule, and can now get back to the business of the day-to-day life of the season. It was a Happening at Citi Field, though, and I suppose it is what happens when you go to the World Series. Those days of 10-15,000 people out there on a Tuesday night are probably over. When you're winning, every game can be a Happening.

Break Out The Bunting

George and I were discussing what the plan was for Opening Day tomorrow, as we usually do since we've attended Opening Day I believe 10 out of the past 12 seasons, and he asked me what time to meet out at Citi Field. I thought about it for a few minutes, and this was the answer I gave him:

"You know, every year, I say let's meet at 11:30, and every year I go dashing out there and show up at 11, so why kid myself anymore? Let's meet at 11."

I suppose, in my advancing age, I've become wiser about my own particular patterns, if not so much my aptitude to sit out in freezing temperatures at April Games at Citi Field.

Regardless, as if it were a surprise to anyone, I'll be at Citi Field tomorrow for my 12th consecutive Opening Day or Home Opener as the case may be. I've got the Shofar polished, I have a brand new Game Hat for 2016 (Classic Blue, 2015 World Series patch), and now all we need is Howie Rose, the Bill Shea Good Luck Wreath, the Ceremonial First Car Fire and a whole mess of Bunting and we're ready to go.

Things will be a bit different this year as opposed to prior seasons, for obvious reasons. The usual blind hope that everyone enters Opening Day with has been replaced by actual Hope, and there's going to be a banner-raising ceremony to prove it. I've never actually been to a Mets banner-raising ceremony, and the scuttlebutt I'm hearing is that Rusty Staub, John Franco and Edgardo Alfonzo will be there to perform the banner-raising, so this should be a rollicking good time.

It's going to be a festive day—Opening Day usually is—but with a bit more of a purpose. Usually, when I leave Citi Field at the final game of the season, which more often than not has been the final game of the regular season, I'll detour myself to walk down through the Rotunda and smack a pillar on my way out, as if I were patting an old friend on the back and saying, "See you next year!" This didn't happen last season. On the final day of the regular season last year, I knew I'd be back, and I ended up being back 6 times subsequent to that date of October 4th. I didn't say my traditional farewell after Game 4 of the Dodgers series—that was too depressing an evening and too jammed a crowd. After Game 1 of the Cubs series everyone was too busy reveling. And then, there was the final game against Kansas City, at around 12:30 in the morning on November 2nd. And on that night, saying farewell for the offseason wasn't really on my mind and I'm sure it wasn't on the mind of anyone else who was silently and sullenly streaming out of the building. This hasn't sat well with me, not so much the lack of farewell, but the way it all ended—I'm sure that holds true for most fans—the ending kind of undoes the great vibes of the journey to get to that point—but now we get to start over again. The crowd will probably be as full and as fired up as it was last October, albeit with much lower stakes, but that doesn't matter. It's a festive occasion no matter how you look at it.

Come on! Opening Day has it all! The Shofar, the Wreath, the Bunting, the 11:30am Beer, the Car Fire...Can't wait. Howie Rose at 12:40, First pitch 1:10. Who's Drinkin'!?