Brief Moment

I was back at Citi Field on Friday night, for my 11th game of the season and the 6th of which I didn't actually sit in the seats I'd selected for my plan. One of these little plan-holder quirks is, of course, the ability to not simply exchange tickets, but to exchange them for whichever seating area you so choose, and as such I've found myself sitting in all sorts of different parts of Citi Field. This night, I found myself over in section 331, in the Excelsior level, sort of out in shallow Left Field. I wouldn't call it my preferred section, but it's just a change of pace. Why the hell not?

Friday was also the 4th time this season I've drawn Jacob deGrom, which has generally worked out well to this point. deGrom's recent renaissance in fact started at a game I was at a few weeks ago against the Cubs, in which deGrom threw a Complete Game and really dominated in the process. Since then, he's been on a roll and, given that and given the weak Phillies lineup he was about to face, and you had to feel pretty confident about the Mets chances. Sometimes, you have a good feeling about games and then things end up blowing up. I had that sort of ominous feeling as I got my Fuku and headed up to my seats.

Then, of course, the game started and deGrom got to work, looking every bit as good as he'd looked in his previous three starts. On the other side was Ben Lively, whom I'd never heard of prior to a few days ago when I looked up the pitching matchup, and I still really don't know who he is, other than he's on the Phillies and he's a young pitcher, and he was certainly lucky in the early going because the Mets had him on the ropes in the 1st and 2nd innings and he managed to induce a pair of double plays. However, in the 2nd, he undid his good fortune by walking deGrom and giving up an infield hit to Curtis Granderson that scored the game's first run. In the 4th, Jose Reyes tripled when Odubel Herrera had a moment with Baseball and Travis d'Arnaud singled him home to make the score 2-0.

Meanwhile, deGrom continued to dominate, and in fact going into the 5th inning, he hadn't allowed a hit. I'd noticed this as I was keeping score, and usually it's around the 5th inning of these kinds of games where the fans start to pick up on it too, and you start to feel that building tension in the crowd. Of course, this was going on in typical deGrom fashion, which is pretty quiet. He was striking out plenty of batters, but I wouldn't say I felt like he had "no-hit" stuff. In fact, he was hovering up around 80 pitches, and as such going further into the game, pitch count probably would have been of some concern, and of course it becomes a thing and adds to the stress of the moment. But, you go with it. deGrom got the first two outs in the 5th, and then came Andrew Knapp, another one of these players I knew nothing about. deGrom got two quick strikes and then that roar started to build, because he was working on a thing here, and Knapp lofted a high fly ball out to Center Field. I turned and looked at Granderson, and then I saw Cespedes making a mad dash out towards Center Field and immediately thought, "Oh shit. He can't see it." Granderson was standing there with his hands out, which of course is the universal sign for No Good, and the ball ended up landing behind him and Knapp wound up on 3rd base with a gift triple. deGrom then gave up a soft single to old friend Ty Kelly to score Knapp and make the score 2-1. And finally, he got the 3rd out.

This was a major swing in mood, because you go from thinking that he's got a chance to do something, to all of a sudden now we have to tack on some more runs and the game's in doubt, to say nothing of the extra pitches deGrom had to expend to get through the 5th. However, this run proved more fluke than anything else as deGrom regrouped, struck out the side in the 6th, allowed a clean single to Nick Williams that I think made everyone feel better about the loss of the no-hit bid two innings earlier, and then finished out his night with 7 innings, 3 hits, 1 walk and 12 strikeouts, etching his name near the top of my personal best strikeout performances. This was good, because the Mets did nothing further against Lively or anyone else the Phillies threw out there. So the job of finishing fell to Jerry Blevins, who allowed a double to slick-looking Cameron Perkins—yet another Phillie I've never heard of—but nothing further, Paul Sewald, who finished the 8th, and Addison Reed, who made quick work of things in the 9th to seal up this 2-1 Mets victory.

This, then, puts me at 6-5 in my 11 games, for all intents and purposes my halfway point of the season. No, I didn't get that special, transcendent performance from deGrom I thought might be possible, but then again, I suppose it's just as well that we didn't have to go down that rabbit hole of pitch counts and "maybe so's" and instead the Mets just won the damn game, which is what they're supposed to be doing against the Phillies, even if this situation seems kind of hopeless.

A Popular Attraction

I was not on hand at Citi Field on Saturday, which I've been hearing was probably a good idea. That's not to say I didn't make an attempt to do so. See, I had a pair of seats from a game late last season that was rained out, and usually, the rain check policy is that rainout tickets are good for one year. So I hung on to them thinking I basically had time to exchange them out. But earlier this month, I'd heard somewhere that these tickets could only be exchanged in April, and so I contacted my account representative (Yes, I actually have one of those) and she confirmed that yes, because the game had been made up as a day-night doubleheader, they made the rain check good in April only.

This created some trouble for me, because I could only attend certain games, and there were only certain home dates, and as it turned out, I'd had tickets on every possible April date I could attend except for April 30th. So I mailed the tickets back to the Mets, Byzantine as that may seem, and requested April 30th. I figured that shouldn't be a problem.

A few days later, I received a call from someone with Ticket Services (not my account rep), telling me that they "were out of inventory" for April 30th, and would I like to pick another date. I asked if there was anything available, and they told me that the only available seats started at $108 per ticket. I passed on that, since the only time in my life I've ever paid over $100 for a ticket was a World Series game. Instead, I exchanged the tickets for Friday night, the 29th, and shrewdly exchanged the tickets I'd originally had for that night to another game later in the season. As a result, I got two free shirts and a 12-run inning.

The reason, of course, that April 30th was so popular was the allure of the Noah Syndergaard Garden Gnome. I've talked in the past about how I, and many other Mets fans, have this bizarre attraction to some of the kitsch they pass out at games. I have, over time, acquired a host of Bobbleheads, rally towels, beach towels, calendars, fandinis and the like, and most of it has either been sold or sits in a closet collecting dust. I've developed a distaste for these promotion dates in recent years because for whatever reason, they've been limited in quantity and only doled out on weekends, when I don't usually go to games anyway. Because the Mets had been lousy for so many years, I was able to collect on some limited-amount giveaways when I was on hand, even if I was slightly on the late side of arriving.

I've heard grumblings that this is now no longer the case.

In watching the game yesterday afternoon, I heard Gary Cohen make mention of the fact that people were lining up as early as 9 or 10AM to be one of the first 15,000 people in the building and receive the Syndergaard Gnome. If I'd gone to this game, I can assure you there was no way in hell I was arriving at 9am and for a 4pm start time, it wasn't likely that I would have been there any earlier than 3pm. Had I done that, of course, I would have probably been stuck on line indeterminately, and shit outta luck when it came to getting a Gnome. And had I plonked down upwards of $100 a ticket with the intention of getting a Gnome and not received one, I would have been livid, to say the least.

So in this case, the joke isn't on me, but I have to say I wholeheartedly agree with Metstradamus' assessment of the situation. This is, of course, "the way things are done" now in the sense that any sort of business practice can't be done without in some way fleecing your customers, but it's really not proper or fair to the people that pay enough money for tickets and are probably going to spend even more on concessions no matter when they get in the building to get shut out on the promotion because they didn't show up ass-early. Complaining about these things in general is more or less like talking to a wall sometimes, but I wonder if this is one of those things where if enough people make enough of a stink, the Mets might start to listen and not limit these giveaways so much. I have so many Bobbleheads because when this whole thing started, it was given out to everyone who came to the game. But then, at some point, everyone turned into the first 25,000. Then 20,000. Now it's 15,000. At the rate we're going, they're just going to turn it into door prizes for the first 100 people and it's going to be some demented version of a Black Friday sale. I'm not sure how else that can be described when you're holding an event when you expect 44,000 people to show up and you're giving something special away to only the first 15,000. I'm sure some people were more than just a little upset about this. I can only imagine Ratso Wilpon is behind this crap. This seems like the sort of thing only a jackass like him could cook up.

But I digress. I played no part in this particular michigas and as such my only concern about the game was the game, and that went well enough, at least early on, when Jacob deGrom was cooking and the Mets jumped Matt Cain for 4 early runs, thanks to the usual suspects, Neil Walker and Michael Conforto. Conforto later hit a Home Run, because I guess he was getting tired of all those RBI doubles, or maybe because he's the hottest hitter on the planet right now, as did Wilmer Flores, and things seemed perfectly under control. deGrom had a 1-inning hiccup as a result of an ill-timed Flores error but for the most part things were fine, the Mets had a 3-run lead and everything was hunky dory.

Then, Addison Reed had a hard time of things in the 8th inning, and all of a sudden the Giants had come to life and appeared primed to steal the game away when they loaded the bases with no outs and the always irritating, always awkward Hunter Pence coming to the plate. Reed departed for Hansel Robles, who gave up a pair of fly balls that were a bit too deep for comfort, but not deep enough to accomplish anything further than a Sacrifice Fly, and thus the score sat at 6-5, and the Giants would ultimately get no closer than that as Jerry Blevins finished the 8th and Jeurys Familia, unavailable on Wednesday and unnecessary on Friday, worked a clean 9th inning.

So, the Mets have now won 8 in a row and that's 8 games where they've really controlled the proceedings from beginning to end. This is really how you expect a first place team to play, and yes, I know the Mets aren't actually in 1st place, but at half a game back they're close enough and they're playing the way we expected them to play. They totally wasted Atlanta and Cincinnati and they've stuck it to the Giants in the first two games in this series. So if they're not getting slowed down by the really good teams either, then you know things are going really well.

In fact, things might be going so well right now that you don't need to give away limited Garden Gnomes to the first 15,000 fans as some hackneyed ploy to get people to show up early.

Horrible Game Friday

I went to Citi Field tonight. This is nothing new, but there were specific circumstances that brought me here on this specific night. Friday night, May 29th, was not a game on my plan. Generally, I don't pick Friday night games, or I don't pick many Friday nights, mainly because I prefer the Tuesday night crowd to the Friday night crowd. Tuesday nights are for the real purists, I believe. The people that come to watch a Baseball game and maybe eat a Hot Dog and drink a Beer, but food and other such entertainment are secondary. Friday night, you start getting the weekenders, the families, the hordes of Little Leaguers and, worse, Little League Parents that clog up the escalators and block you in the concourses and generally make life difficult. To say nothing of the Brosephs that tend to show up on Fridays.

I was at Citi Field on Friday night for one reason: to see Matt Harvey. After being at Harvey's first home start back in April, I'd fallen into a string of missing him by a game, or maybe two days, or whatever, but basically I just felt like I wasn't seeing him enough for my liking. So, on Tuesday, I decided to invoke my Plan Holder Privileges. I have two seats on my plan, but as I've mentioned, sometimes either I can't make it and can't sell the tickets, or I can't find someone to go with and instead I just go by myself. In the past, this would have meant eating the ticket or selling it to some geezer outside the stadium who invariably never actually shows up in the seat. However, last year, the Mets introduced a new policy in which unused plan tickets could in fact be exchanged for seats to other games. I don't know who came up with this idea, but this person needs to be nominated for a Nobel Prize for special brilliance. I invariably end up with extra tickets here and there, and now I can actually use them for some particular benefit. In this case, it meant trading in the unused ticket from the Mets/Cardinals crapfest I attended 2 weeks ago and getting a ticket for Harvey Day.

There was, of course, some concern about Harvey based on his awful outing in Pittsburgh and his Manager's assertion that he had a case of dead arm. If Harvey had a dead arm, I'd really like to see what happens when it's alive, seeing as how he charged out to the mound tonight with smoke coming out of his ears and struck out the side on 10 pitches. The second and third innings passed with similar results. Some Marlin batters did make contact, but none of them actually reached base. Harvey was pitching with his general ferocity, and the game kind of took on the feel of another game I'd seen Harvey pitch two years ago, in which he retired the first 20 batters in order and allowed all of one infield single over 9 innings (typically, he didn't win because the Mets didn't score any runs for him).

But, then came the 4th inning, and things basically went to hell in a handbasket. First, Dee Gordon did what has to be the most Marlins thing I've ever seen done: He bunted for a hit to break up the perfect game. The only way that could have been more Marlins is if he'd done it leading off the 7th inning, but I digress. Jorge Cantu Martin Prado (Cantu/Prado/Annoying Marlins 3rd Baseman, same thing) followed with a walk to bring up Mount Rushmore, but Harvey managed to get him to fly out. This, in fact, was the only time Stanton made contact all night. This brought up Justin Bour, the Marlins rookie who looks to be a cross between John Kruk and Greg Dobbs. Earlier in the season, he surfaced in a Mets/Marlins game in Miami. My other half was in the room and noticed his figure and his mullet and stated "He looks like a mouth-breather," and later, "He looks like the kind of guy who holds a woman's head down...(you can use your imagination from here)" Basically, it seems to me like the entire career of Justin Bour is that he's going to be the second coming of Chipper Jones every time he plays the Mets, and against every other team he'll go back to being Rich Becker. Tell me I'm wrong, because you know what happened here. Harvey came in with a slider on the first pitch to Bour, but I guess it hung a little bit and Bour pulled it down the Right Field line. It looked to me like it was tailing foul, but there were a group of people clamoring over a Hot Dog vendor and standing in my way, so I couldn't really tell. Also, the crowd, full and yet tepid at best, didn't seem to be paying much attention, so basically the only thing I had to go on was Bour happily rounding the bases. That was quite a turd in the punchbowl of my evening. Not only were the Mets now losing with Harvey on the mound, but nobody really seemed to care. I heard a gentleman behind me talking on his phone about something, and he launched into something to the effect of "...Yeah, Harvey's on the mound tonight and he is DEALING. I think he just gave up a hit, he had a no-hitter going for a while, I think the 6th inning, maybe..."

It was just that kind of night.

Lucas Duda got the Mets one run back when he launched a Home Run halfway up the Pepsi Porch—not that you'd notice from the reaction of the crowd—but Harvey gave up another run in the 5th of annoying variety. Granderson Homered in the 6th and the Mets started to put a little rally together, but then Daniel Murphy had a Daniel Murphy and hit into a Double play. This was how it was going down. Harvey made a couple of bad pitches and got tagged, and meanwhile, Dan Haren, who's entire career has been a series of bad pitches was going to get away scot-free because this was one of those nights when the Mets decided not to hit. Harvey kept motoring along, through the 6th, 7th and through the 8th innings without allowing the Marlins anything further, and thus finished his night with a gritty 8 inning effort that featured an incongruous 4 runs and 6 hits, and a typical 1 walk and 11 strikeouts. Go figure. On a night like this, he should win but at that point, it didn't seem likely. Really, I think I could have predicted the endgame by that point. The Mets got a couple of hits off of A.J. Ramos—who looks every bit like one of these closers whose brains you just want to beat in repeatedly—and the Mets scored a run to make it 4-3, but they got no closer, and the Mets lost a stupid game in stupid fashion, wasting a perfectly good outing by a perfectly good pitcher in the process.

I've mentioned that I'm usually in a less-than-pleasant mood when I go to a Mets game and they lose anyway. The crowd, or, more appropriately the meatheads therein put me in even less of a good mood. It was, of course, Free Shirt Friday, and on this night the Mets were giving out perhaps the most boring Free Shirt I've ever seen, but it was sponsored by Goya, and as such, Goya had a table set up outside the stadium and was handing out free bags of something after the game let out. I tried to get close to see if it was anything good, and upon seeing it was plantain chips, I decided to pass, but at that point, I was immediately run over by a group of Kappa Phis screaming "GIMME FREE FOOD!" and some other similarly well-behaved youths scampering away with armfuls of bags. I had to pause for a second because I wonder if the allure of free food at this time of night actually trumped being aware of what you were about to shovel into your mouth. It was that kind of night. I have to remind myself that next time I have to go see Matt Harvey pitch, I should make sure it's on a Tuesday or a Wednesday. It might make for a more pleasant experience.

Free Shirt Tuesday!

Strange as it may sound, lots of good things happened at Citi Field last night.

First of all, last night was the first time in my now 5 games at Citi Field this season where the weather was actually pleasant. I'm aware that it did rain in fits and starts, but I'll tell you why that didn't bother me. See, my seats are up in the Promenade, uncovered, so generally I'm exposed to the elements. When it rains, and it often does, I'm forced to run up for cover under the paltry little overhang, or, duck into the Promenade Club, where I'm among the privileged with access. But, last night, while I was on my way up to my seat, I was approached by a Stadium cop. He asked me where my seat was, and then pulled out an excessively large stack of tickets. He wanted to know if I was going to use it for club access, or if I was going to sit in the seat. I told him I was going to sit in the seat. So he handed me a ticket in the Excelsior level, out in Right Field. Who am I to forgo a completely unannounced seat upgrade? So I never made it to Section 512, never made it to the food court, just walked to the nearest staircase and down one level, to Section 306, well covered by the Promenade overhang. Rain fell, but you wouldn't have known it from where I was sitting.

The seat upgrades were probably being handed out so liberally because there just weren't that many people out at the game. It seemed like the cop that gave me my seat probably just canvassed the Promenade level to fill things out. The Promenade was mostly empty even when I got up there before the game, and a glance over at the Pepsi Porch revealed a crowd that you could count on your hands. The ploy, I suppose, was to concentrate enough of a crowd in one part of the stadium so that they could have a camera crew along with Kevin or Brandon or whatever the name of the guy that's on all those in-game contests and TV commercials is camp out there throughout the game. In the 3rd inning, he was on my left, giving out Beatles CDs. In the 5th, he was hanging out with the T-Shirt launch crew. In the 7th, he was behind me trying to pump everybody up for the Dance Cam (he had to offer a $100 prize for Fan of the Game to get people excited—fortunately he was standing behind me so I wasn't in any danger of actually having to be seen attempting to dance).

I mentioned that the T-Shirt launch crew, or at least a T-Shirt thrower was hanging out with Kev-Brand in the aisles. Sometimes, these folks go up to the Promenade and throw shirts to those areas where the T-Shirt cannon won't reach, but most nights they seem to not bother with the Proletariat. So, it was one of those rare moments where I was actually within shouting distance of getting one of those dopey shirts. It didn't seem like it was going to happen (I am generally a repellant of these kinds of things), until the gal tossed one in the general direction of a group two rows behind me. In what can only be described as a brilliant stroke of luck, the shirt somehow managed to get juggled and bounced off the hands of 4 separate people before finally landing directly under the seat behind me. With nobody in that row, and nobody sitting on either side of me, I managed to have a free shot at a free shirt. Miracle of Miracles! After being around for a pair of Free Shirt Fridays, I now found myself present for the elusive Free Shirt Tuesday.

See, plenty of good things went on at Citi Field. The only problem is that none of it happened on the field, where the Mets were completely mastered by Adam Wainwright, who would have thrown a shutout if not for a 7th inning injury. Dillon Gee did his best, and he certainly needed to do his best to prevent an ugly 4th inning from getting completely out of hand. Still, the 2 runs that the Cardinals did score were more than enough for Wainwright and the tack-on run they added in the 9th inning was just salt on a wound. The Mets cosmetically made it interesting by drawing a pair of walks in the last of the 9th, but Tyler Rosenthal snuck a couple of borderline strikes by David Wright, and then got Murphy to ground out, capping off a mostly forgettable game. But, in keeping with the theme of the night, at least it was over before 10pm.

Tossed Aside

I'm 0 for 2 when I live blog from Citi Field, so maybe I should discontinue the experiment, no matter how much the lousy giveaways compel me to do so.

Then again, the I seem to have this every-other-game thing going this year. After winning the first two games I went to this season, the Mets have now alternated wins and losses in every game since. So, last  night, I was due for a loss, and I got it. It's better than, say, 2009, when they just lost every game.

It seems like every year there's a "forgotten late-season game" in August or September, usually a game the Mets lose, where nothing particularly interesting or noteworthy happens and after some time, I forget that I went to the game until I'm flipping through my album of scorecards and I discover that I was, indeed at this game. Given the way it played out, I see no reason why I'd want to remember being at this game.

It started out well enough, a nice pitching duel for the first 3 innings, until Jonathon Niese had an attack of whatever-the-hell-it-is-that-always-gets-him in the 4th. This time, it appears that he was undone by about 73 feet worth of singles from Justin Rugelach and Jose Reyes, the former of which David Wright just couldn't find the handle on, and the latter of which was probably an out. Nonetheless, the stage was set for the inevitable meltdown, and meltdown it did, replete with Andres Torres saving Niese from a 6-run bloodbath by running down Giancarlo's drive, and Josh Thole costing Niese a run by somehow managing to forget to tag Austin Kearns despite having the ball well before Kearns arrived at the plate. So, if, but, etc, etc, instead of 1 or 2 runs, it was 4, and it probably could have been worse. So let's count our blessings.

This didn't seem like an insurmountable deficit given that Wade LeBlanc had thrown about 103 pitches through the first 3 innings for the Marlins, and he was backed up by a bullpen that actually made the Mets bullpen look good by comparison. That's saying something.

Nonetheless, the Mets set about doing what they do best: Banging out single after single after single, and yet somehow never getting a long, key hit that would erase the deficit. Bases loaded in the 4th, Ruben Tejada grounds out. Bases loaded in the 5th, Terry Collins doesn't pinch hit for Niese (because giving Niese that extra inning was really important), Niese strikes out. 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, the Mets basically stood around with the bats up their asses. Ho hum, another boring 4-2 loss.

A performance as ridiculous as the license plate holders that were given out last night. Amazingly, I didn't notice anyone playing License Plate Frame Frisbee or anything, although I'm sure people were tempted to fling them at the field at any given moment during the game. I didn't even see any smashed License Plate Frame Pieces scattered around the Promenade level. But I did see plenty of sights like the above, where people deposited them under their seats and left them there, as if to say that they hold more utility being left at the place they were obtained, rather than being taken home.

That sounds an awful lot like the way most of us feel about the Mets nowadays.

Seriously?

Yet another indignant blog LIVE from Citi Field. It's my first game in over a month, with work getting in the way as usual. But now I'm back, in my regular perch in the Promenade.

I'm relatively used to going to games where nothing is given away, although I've made mention in the past of my attraction to certain kitschy items that are generally given out at weekend games I can't go to. But it seems tonight was one of those "surprise" promotions that they dropped in when nobody was paying attention. More often than not, these are the dates they save the real crap for.

Well, you want crap, you got it, because this is what was shoved in my face unceremoniously when I entered the ballpark. It's a license plate frame. Yes, all the lucky fans in attendance tonight are getting a dinky little plastic license plate frame.

I'm attracted to promotional kitsch, but this is ridiculous. It's also especially helpful for everyone here who DOESN'T OWN A CAR!

I really know how to pick 'em, I guess. Dunkin' Donuts cards, a Mr. Met Window Cling, and now this. A Mets license plate frame. Hopefully there's someone out there who will pay $3 for it on Ebay, because that's right where it's headed. Assuming I don't fling it at Jason Bay in disgust.

Circle Back Around

Happy July 4th, everyone! On Independence day, as always, we remind you to take your hat off, and keep out of the aisles during the National Anthem. Don't forget to fist pump and genuflect while you're at it.

Three years ago, I went to a Mets/Phillies game that included a full house, some similar in-game fireworks, and ended with Citi Field covered in a smoky haze, but with a different result, one that resulted in an early exit for Mets fans and in Philly fans strutting around doing Harry Kalas impressions to tell everyone that the Mets season was "OUUUTTA HEEERE!"

Last night, the shoe was on the other foot.

I'd been waiting for that first really great Citi Field game, where it truly seemed like Citi Field was what everyone envisioned it to be before the team went in the tank and everyone stopped showing up. I know that the night of Johan Santana's No Hitter was one of the first truly great moments at Citi Field, but the stadium was only about half full. I could tell that there was going to be a big crowd just by standing outside the stadium. I'd never seen the line to get through the checkpoint at the Rotunda to be un-navigable, but that's what it was. Either I had to go down to Right Field, or risk not getting in until the 3rd inning. Although it may have been a bipartisan crowd, it was as full as I'd seen it since Opening Day (and the postgame boast of an attendance record may have been accurate—it certainly felt more full than I ever remember Citi Field being), possibly due to the lure of fireworks more than the fans actually beginning to believe in the team. You had to have the feeling that the crowd juiced up the Mets, because they came out and absolutely ripped Vance Worley to shreds. Ruben Tejada fired the keynote after dinging several 2-strike pitches foul, working out a 11-pitch at bat that resulted in one of the few outs Worley was able to get. Daniel Murphy followed with a triple, David Wright hit a run-scoring ground out, and the Mets were on their way.

Sure, the Philly fans were out in force, but they had little reason to do much other than slump in their seats and sit on their hands. Outside of Carlos Ruiz's 2nd inning Home Run (inspiring the requisite "CHOOOOOOCH" chants), Jon Niese had probably his best outing of the season, and something he's been building towards of late. He's been getting progressively better and better as the season has progressed, and now the results are starting to gather some notice. He also helped his own cause at the plate; with the score tied and the bases loaded (following Tim Teufel's questionable hold of Lucas Duda on Thole's hit—many were annoyed by this, however it was the right move since Duda likely would have been out by 20 feet), Niese slapped a pitch off Worley's glove and through the infield to plate two runs. He'd later score on Murphy's double, and later on, he'd draw a walk and score again on Wright's monster Home Run.

Though Daniel Murphy was the offensive standout with his 4 hits and 4 RBI, he wasn't without help. Ruben Tejada, of the aforementioned 11-pitch at bat, followed that up with 3 hits, and together, he, Murphy and David Wright served to back their pitcher up with an outstanding all-around defensive effort, taking hits and runs away from the Phillies at every angle, mostly stifling Shane Victorino, who is probably the Phillie most in need of some stifling.

So, if everyone was feeling nice and warm following this 11-1 washout, we all got to sit back and get treated to a fine Fireworks show, which was pleasantly cheesy, well-designed, not too long, not too short, and just enough to satiate me so I don't feel obligated to go watch fireworks tonight. I'd never actually been to a Mets fireworks night before. I usually tended to avoid those games, and in fact, this year would have been no different. I actually ended up at Fireworks Night by accident this year. When I selected the 15 games on my 15-game plan, I had no idea what dates would be promotion dates. I just picked July 3rd because it was a weekday night game, it was against Philly, and I knew I didn't have to work the next day. But, sure enough, they made it fireworks night, and so after 25 years of attending Mets games, I've finally been to a fireworks night. I guess you can have me bronzed and sell me on eBay or something.

Kitschy Weekend

Not much noteworthy went on this weekend, or at least that's a kind way of saying that the Mets looked lousy all weekend. Coming off their great series in Tampa, the Mets arrived home and continued to pitch well, but apparently left their bats in Florida. Too bad, since good performances by Jonathon Niese and Chris Young were mostly wasted.

The only good thing to report from the weekend would be Sunday's Keith Hernandez Bobblehead promotion, which I was on hand for. I'd made mention in the past of my bizarre attraction to this kitsch the Mets give out from time to time. It serves no greater purpose than to clutter up my life and my closet, I suppose. But over time, I'd pared some of that stuff down. A number of promotional items I'd accumulated over the years became eBay fodder, among them bobbleheads of Willie Randolph, Pedro Martinez, Carlos Beltran, a bunch of old caps of varied colors, and even a Dunkin Donuts gift card (the Endy Chavez Bobblehead, I have kept, along with the mini Shea Stadium replica from 2008). Nonetheless, with the Mets doing their 50th Anniversary Bobbleheads, I felt I had to try to get to at least one of these games. I would have preferred Edgardo Alfonzo, but scheduling being in my way, I had to settle for Keith Hernandez. That's not to say that this is settling much. Keith is as beloved a Met as anyone. So, when a ticket for June 17th landed in my lap, I of course ran out to Citi Field to get my Keith Bobblehead. And, with it, I got to sit through a relatively boring 2 hour, 50 minute Mets loss. But, who cares? I got a Keith Hernandez bobblehead, right!?

I feel silly, sometimes, getting quite so excited about these kinds of things. But I also know I'm not the only one. Or at least I hope I'm not.

Pour Me Another One, My Good Man!

Blogging at you Live, from Citi Field tonight as the Mets are wooing the Baseball Muse before starting their series with the Diamondbacks. It's a rare Friday night appearance for me, and even rarer still that I'm present when they're giving something away. Tonight is Collector Cup Night, where all the hearty fans are treated to this little plastic cup.

Back in those Halcyon days known as the 1990s, and even through the 2000s, up until Shea Stadium closed, the Collector Cup used to be rather prevalent at Mets games. Every time you bought a souvenir soda, you got a cup. I liked the cups. I have a reasonable collection of them at home. They used to have the season schedule on them, and on special games, like the Subway Series, they even had extra special collector cups.

When the Mets moved into Citi Field in '09, the collector cups were still around. But they had changed. They were smaller, and made of a harder plastic. There was supposedly a series of three collector cups for '09, but for some reason, I've only ever seen one of them. Even worse, when I ran them in the dishwasher, the color on the cups faded out into a disgusting yellowy mess. Nonetheless, a collector cup is a collector cup.

But something disturbing happened beginning in 2010. The cups vanished! No more collector cups were to be had at Citi Field. Nobody seemed to notice, or at least nobody seemed to be up in arms about it that I could tell. But I noticed. It made me less likely to buy a soda, since now it just came in a dopey paper cup that fell apart. This trend has continued ever since, with the only plastic cups around being for beer, mostly useless and not collectible. All we have now are these promotion dates for our Mets cups. It's just not the same.

Hasn't someone written a letter to someone important about this? Where have the cups gone?!

Great Idea!

I've been hearing Howie Rose talk about it on the radio ever since last weekend, but the Mets have been running all sorts of goofy promotions to try to drum up some kind of interest as the Mets play out the string. There have apparently been seat upgrades, and giveaways and players signing autographs, but the crowds have remained sparse (though, since most of the tickets were already sold, they're not announced as sparse, but that's a different story).

Last night, the folks at SNY had the brilliant idea to do a "Silent Sixth Inning," which I didn't watch, but I heard people making fun of on WFAN afterwards. I suppose they can do whatever the hell they want to try to generate some interest. Whether they were in the race or not, I would have been listening on the radio, where they know better than to do a "silent" anything.

But tonight, the Mets have it right. Tonight is Free Hot Dog night at Citi Field. It's not unlimited, unfortunately, but everyone coming in will get a coupon for a Free Hot Dog. Now, we're talking! And, how fortuitous that this should fall on the day of a game I happen to have tickets for. This should come in handy after I've had my tacos before the game (assuming I have tacos before the game), and I get that little strike of hunger around the 7th or 8th inning.

Doing it the Right Way

I know I did this last year, too, but since today is what today is, I have to do it again...

"Today is Father's Day, so to all you Dads out there, Happy Birthday!"

Now, to the more important issue at hand:

I, for some reason, felt compelled to go out to Shea last night, rather than Friday night. I guess I never really considered Friday an option, and Saturday's game offered a chance to see the same Texas Rangers team that I'd never seen before, a chance to see Pedro Martinez, and, in my opinion, a much better promotion.

This isn't to denigrate Beach Towel night one bit. In fact, Beach Towel day was one of the seminal promotions of my youth. Somewhere, in the bowels of my Father's apartment, lie years upon years worth of Mets Beach Towel Day towels, which used to be sponsored by Met Life, and usually featured some permutation of Snoopy and the rest of the Peanuts gang. As promotions went back in those days, Beach Towel day was usually the best. The game would usually sell out, and the towels would be whirled around, much in the same fashion as the little hand towels they hand out today.

Then, sometime around 1991 or 1992, Beach Towel day disappeared. Or maybe they just held it on days when I couldn't go. At any rate, there were no more beach towels at Shea. Until, mysteriously, it popped up again in 1998, sponsored by Rheingold. It occurred on a sun-soaked Saturday afternoon, where Mike Piazza posted his first Multi-HR game with the Mets, and I was in attendance to pick one up. It's still with me, packed away somewhere in the bowels of my apartment. But I found it recently, when putting away the dopey little Rally Towel I received earlier this season.

Then, it disappeared again. I think I noticed it pop up in '06 or '07 as a kids only promotion, useless to me. And, in fact, I didn't even notice that it was happening this season until earlier this week. Sponsored by, of all places, Fox News. I thought I should go for old times sake, but I had planned to take Friday off, and go Saturday. Saturday being Shea Stadium Replica night, a much more attractive promotion, undoubtedly, particularly with this being the last season for Shea. Much like I just HAD to be there for Endy Chavez Bobblehead night last year, I HAD to be there for Shea Stadium replica night. Why do I have such an attraction to this kitsch?

At any rate, because I HAD to be there, I ended up sitting through about 90 minutes of, perhaps, the hardest rainstorm I've ever seen at Shea Stadium. It's a good thing I was sitting underneath the overhang in the Upper Deck, because there was no way anybody should have been sitting out in the uncovered seats. The rain whipped around to the point where I swear it was falling up. The Field Level seats appeared to be a swimming pool, and the field itself was a quagmire, with the warning tracks reduced to mud. The field was totally unplayable, this was clear at around 8pm. Yet, they announced that the front would move through within the half hour. Well, I guess they would try to play, there were probably about 40,000 people at the stadium, and the concessions were doing a land office business. I kept dialing the Mets Rain hotline for updates, and they said the game "was still scheduled to be played at 7:10pm. But there was no way. I figured I'd stick it out until they called it, at least. Then, around 8:30, several players dashed out of the Rangers Dugout and slid across the tarp. The fans went wild. I couldn't see who they were (and later found out that the ringleaders were Ian Kinsler and Milton Bradley, accompanied by Josh Hamilton, Gerald Laird, Michael Young and Josh Rupe), but they dove around and slipped and slid for a good 5 minutes before they bowed to the crowd, which was mysteriously chanting "LET'S GO RANGERS!" and headed back in. Everyone got a kick out of it, apparently, except for Willie, who would only say, "That's dangerous." Killjoy.

I took that opportunity, then, to call the rain line one more time. Now, they were announcing that the game was postponed. Which was odd, since they hadn't announced it to the crowd. Why should they, I suppose. People were hanging around, eating, drinking and whatever, and the concession stands were packed. It was a good 5 minutes before they finally announced "We regret to inform you that tonight's game has been postponed."

I was a bit nervous that they would pull their new trick of scheduling my favorite, the day-night Doubleheader, today, with tickets only good for the makeup game. They surprised me by bucking the trend and scheduling—God Forbid—A Traditional, Single-Admission Doubleheader! Be still my heart! A real Doubleheader! Of course, I'm not there, but it's the thought that counts. I can exchange my ticket whenever I please, just like the old times. Maybe with the Beach Towels and the Shea Replicas, everyone was feeling a bit of old-time spirit.

Now, if only the team could feel that old-time spirit. Old time meaning 2006, or 2000, or 1999.