Maybe This Weight Was A Gift...

Sometime around 10pm Saturday night, when Brian Schneider's well-struck double had landed, Delgado and Marlon Anderson had scored, and somehow, someway, the Mets had come back from a game they probably shouldn't have trailed, but did, to take the lead, a voice emerged from my radio, and probably echoed throughout all of New York, and all of Mets Nation, wherever it may reach.

"FINALLY!" yelled the voice.

That voice belonged to Howie Rose, and it punctuated the first of three rather unlikely performances by three unlikely players for the Mets in Philadelphia this weeekend. When the dust cleared, the Mets won on Saturday going away, and again in Sunday's ridiculously extended game, and could just have easily won Friday's game as well.

Then again, the Mets could have very easily lost all three of these games in Philadelphia.

It's a testament to both teams and their fan bases. Listening to WFAN on Friday afternoon, and an interview with a Philadelphia beat writer, there's not a great deal of confidence in the Phillies from among their own fans. They have a loaded lineup, but they've been going through a widespread slump, the starting pitching has been spotty, inconsistent to the point that their supposed Ace, Brett Myers, was sent to the Minors to get his head together, and just when it looked as though they were going to pull away from the rest of the division, they played some AL teams and fell flat on their faces.

The complaints in Philly seem an awful lot like the complaints of Mets fans, where we have good starting pitching, a shaky bullpen, and an underperforming lineup that boasts some of the worst situational hitters in Baseball.

The real attraction when these two teams meet, however, is the fabled warring factions. Although I didn't see any major fistfights breaking out in the stands, it's always interesting to hop over to The 700 Level and see what the good folks there have to say. Mmhmm, Example A, Example B, Example C. Nope, no surprises here.

What was surprising was the result of Friday night's game, which, given the current state of affairs with the Mets, probably served notice to all of us that this was going to be a very long weekend. Santana did what he needed to do, but once again got a pathetic amount of run support from the Mets continually stagnant offense, and he departed a tie game in the 9th inning, when it was debatable whether or not he should have pitched the 9th after only 95 pitches. It's academic. Bash Santana all you want, but you're going after the wrong guy. He showed up. The rest of the team, you know, the team that's supposed to provide him with adequate run support? They apparently were still in St. Louis. After being mostly shut down by Muppet-faced Rookie J.A. Happ and Chad Durbin, the Mets spit the game up in the 9th when the Phillies did what they seem to do what they always do against the Mets: Score runs with 2 outs. Bah. This time, the culprit was one of my favorites: Puny little Shane Victorino. I hate this guy. I really hate this guy, almost as much as I hate Matt Diaz or Jeff Francoeur. I swear to God, this guy should be leading the Kiddie Clown Parade at a McDonalds in Upstate New York instead of being a Major League ballplayer. I think his At Bat Music is a Kazoo Calliope. I get erections bigger than this fucking guy, and here he is, getting his little game winning hit and getting pounded to pieces, and here we go again. This had all the makings of another 4-game Philadelphia washout and an early Football season.

Saturday appeared to be playing out much the same way. Maine was solid, if uneven through the early part of the game. He was staked to a 3-run lead, which of course he couldn't hold, because, first, he went and hit Victorino. I can't say I blame Maine for doing that, because I look at Victorino and want to throw things at him too, but doing it during the middle of a Major League Baseball game might not be a good idea, particularly when the Phillies have quality hitters like Chase Utley and Ryan Howard hitting behind him, and when Utley walked and Howard flicked his wrists, the game was, rather quickly, tied. Maine subsequently went back to business, at least until his arm cramped up and he had to leave. By that point, I was listening to the game with half an ear; I figured it was only a matter of time before the Phillies scored another one of their ridiculous runs, probably on an error by Reyes and an infield hit from Victorino.

It turned out not to be Victorino driving in that go ahead run in the 7th. It was the equally annoying Jayson Werth, or, as he should be more familiarly known, Spiezio-Lite. Werth singled home a run off Feliciano and the rally would have continued had he not gotten himself thrown out taking an extra base on a missed cutoff throw.

So, I figure that's that. Little do I know.

I went back to tuning the game out to the point where I didn't even know who was pitching, and I wasn't aware that Easley and Delgado had singled. In fact, I wasn't even aware that anyone was on base until Gordon's wild pitch scored Easley with the tying run. If Schneider's subsequent 2-out double was the uprising, then this wild pitch was the awakening. This was probably the turning point of the entire weekend. And Finally, FINALLY, the Mets got up off the mat and fought back. Energized from their rally in the 8th, the Mets tacked on enough runs in the 9th that the Grounds crew in Philly thought it would be funny to make up a rain delay, pulling the tarp on and off a dry field and serving to do nothing but make everyone sit around for an extra 18 minutes. So, as it would turn out, the rest of the game was academic, but on the good side.

That's right. What the hell do I know?

This brought us to Sunday's game, which started off as a taut pitchers duel, and Oliver Perez picking up where he left off last weekend, hurling zeros at Philadelphia for 7 innings and looking rather dominant in the process. The Mets offense picked up where they left off, picking up 9 hits and scoring only 1 run.

Then the rains came.

Then the rains continued.

Then I was making dinner.

Then, it was 7:20 or so and I clicked on channel 11 to see if maybe they'd finally called the game like they should have, and sure enough, they're still playing, and Heilman is on and nearly making me choke on my steak and then getting out of the jam.

Then, the game turned into the same kind of Ionesco farce that I had attended last month. It wasn't even Wagner's nearly-predictable blown save that made me think so. It started with Carlos Beltran picking up David Wright and knocking in the tack-on run that proved to be vital mere minutes later. Wagner came in and gave up a leadoff single to, who else, Shane Victorino. He then got the next 2 outs before Spiezio-lite hit the tying HR, a bomb of Mark Reynolds proportions into that Steroid Field jet stream. Perfect. It's just a matter of time before Schoeneweis or Smith or whoever the Mets have left gives up that monstrous HR to Ryan Howard, and the Mets snatch defeat from the jaws of victory yet again.

In the 10th, Schoeneweis came in and struck out Howard and Jenkins.

In the 11th, Joe Smith got Werth and Utley to fly out.

In the 12th, Fernando Tatis hit a 2-run HR off Chad Durbin.

Yeah, Fernando Tatis. Come the 12th inning, the man's unstoppable. He hit a shot that, similar to Werth's HR in the 9th, appeared to be little more than a high fly ball that got caught up in that ridiculous Steroid Field jet stream and carried into the center field seats.

FINALLY! A break for the Mets, a chance to win a game that appeared lost. This was the second unlikely performance for the Mets this weekend, and it proved to be just as critical as Schneider's, since it proved that, once again, the Mets aren't going to fold their tents just yet. You could tell, when Tatis returned to the dugout, and got three emphatic high-fives from Jose Reyes, that they're all there, even if they don't always appear to be.

Then, it was Joe Smith, the final unlikely hero of the weekend, capping off a gutty, 2.1 inning performance by navigating his way through Rollins, Howard and Jenkins, before making a nifty barehanded play on a slow roller by Pedro Feliz, the kind of roller that, in another time, in another place, Smith either wouldn't have been able to pick up cleanly, or would have thrown away. Instead, Smith picked it up and threw his best strike of the evening, capping off the Mets second straight victory in Philadelphia, and second straight victory that featured them getting pushed around and pushed around, until finally, FINALLY, they pushed back.

One more in Philly, tonight. With feeling.

Lost Classics: July 15, 2004

This was part of a 3-way tie for the winner of the Choose the Lost Classic for 2004 poll.

In the interest of diverting attention from the current version of the Mets as they take on the Phillies in uninspired fashion, I offer the latest installment of The Ballclub's Lost Classics.

Today, I take you all the way back to a bygone era. Back to 2004, and a period of time we recently revisited just last week.

Following their sweep of the Yankees, the Mets continued to play solid baseball through to the All-Star break. At the Break, the Mets stood at 44-43, merely 2 games behind the division leading Phillies, who stood at 46-41. It would be the Phillies coming into Shea to play the Mets on this Thursday evening, July 15th, the first game after the All-Star Break.

As I've mentioned in the past, I've always been partial to the first game after the Break. It has a mini-opening day feel of sorts. I met El Guapo in Union Square as per usual, and we headed out to Shea for the game. It was a humid, cloudy Summer night, the kind of night reminiscent of the movie "Smoke," in which William Hurt, often dressed rather sharply, would sit in his small, sweltering, un-air conditioned New York apartment, wearing a Mets hat that looked all too out of place on him, and listen to the Mets game. These kinds of games, we deduced, could be referred to as "William Hurt Games," based on the opponent, the time of year, and the weather outside.

The weather being what it was, this was definitely a William Hurt Game.

It was a 7:10pm start on this evening, as Steve Trachsel took the mound for the Mets against Eric Milton for Philadelphia. We alighted to our seats, Upper deck, Section 9, Row C. The Guap and I had been to several games this season, and it seemed like, more often than not, Steve Trachsel was starting for the Mets. In actuality, it was only our 5th game of the year, but it was the 3rd time we'd seen Trachsel. The other two games were started by Jae Seo. Nonetheless, it was Trachsel starting and starting strong, zipping through the Phillies lineup in short order in the 1st, only allowing a walk to Bobby Abreu, who stole second and was stranded when Jim Thome (if you can remember that Jim Thome was actually on the Phillies—something I'd forgotten until I looked at my scorecard) struck out. In the 2nd, Trachsel was even more efficient, striking out Pat Burrell, Ricky Ledee and David Bell in order. He set down Philly in order in the 3rd and 4th as well, and appeared to be cruising along.

But Eric Milton was matching him. Through the first 3 innings, Milton didn't allow a Met to reach base at all. Neither team had a hit through 3 1/2. But the Mets finally broke through in the bottom of the 4th.

Jose Reyes, in the middle of his intermittent, injury-interrupted 2004 campaign, started off by working the count against Milton. And working the count. And fouling off pitches. And fouling off some more pitches. And working the count some more. Finally, after fouling off 6 straight 3-2 pitches, Jose poked a double, just inside the 3rd base line. Kaz Matsui followed, and it took him only 2 pitches to stroke a double of his own, past Abreu and off the wall in right, scoring Reyes with the game's first run. Piazza (starting at Catcher tonight, with Shane Spencer at 1st), Hidalgo and Floyd followed by doing very little.

In the 5th, it was the Phillies finally reaching Trachsel. After getting Burrell and Ledee, Trachsel allowed his first hit, just as the fans were beginning to get that No-Hitter murmur going, a David Bell single ground into left field. Mike Lieberthal followed with a double down the left field line, and all of a sudden, Philly had a decent threat...except that Milton was hitting next. He struck out on 4 pitches.

In the last of the 5th, the Mets would extend their lead, and Trachsel would be the one helping himself out. After Spencer led off with a groundout, Ty Wigginton hit a clean single to left. Mike Cameron, mysteriously hitting 8th in the order, followed by grounding out to Thome at 1st, with Wigginton moving up to 2nd. Trachsel was next, and Trachsel, using the trademark Pitcher's swing—Swing hard, you just might hit it!—lofted a single in front of Burrell in left, scoring Wigginton and giving the Mets a 2-0 lead.

But while Trachsel may have helped his cause at the plate, he couldn't maintain his pace on the mound. In the 6th, Trachsel got Rollins to fly out to center. Placido Polanco, however, followed by hitting a single to left. Bobby Abreu then jumped on Trachsel's first offering and launched it high and deep and out, into the bleachers in left-center for a 2-run Home Run to tie up the game. Trachsel continued to unravel after that, and very nearly cost himself the game. He would give up a single to Thome, and then, as Trachsel was apt to do when he allowed runners on base, he stalled. The game, to that point a quick affair, began to drag. You could see the infield grass grow as Trachsel stalled, and worked, and stalled, getting Burrell to pop out for the second out. But he went 3-0 on Ledee before walking him. Then, he slowed down even more in working a full count on Bell, then walking him to load the bases for Lieberthal. Finally, we'd had enough. The crowd, a hearty 36,803, had seen enough. Even Art How had seen enough. Mercifully, Trachsel was removed from the game after 5.2 innings and 110 pitches for Orber Moreno, who got Lieberthal to pound a comebacker to him for the 3rd out.

And from that point forward, the pitchers resumed their domination of the game. Milton departed after setting down the Mets in order in the 6th, allowing merely 2 runs and 4 hits over his 98 pitches. Moreno retired Philadelphia in order in the 7th. Rheal Cormier came on for Philly in the last of the 7th and got the Mets 1-2-3. Mike Stanton pitched the 8th for the Mets, and punctuated his inning with strikeouts of Abreu and Burrell.

But the Mets would mount a rally against Cormier in their half of the 8th. After Cameron flew out, Todd Zeile hit for Stanton and singled past Bell at 3rd. Joe McEwing came in to run for him, which proved to be a waste when Reyes slapped the ball back to Cormier, who wheeled and threw to 2nd in time to get McEwing, but Polanco's return throw was too late to get Reyes. Matsui then followed with a hard single to right, moving Reyes to 3rd. Mike Piazza was up, and so was the crowd. Larry Bowa, red-faced and pissed-off as always, stormed to the mound and removed Cormier in favor of Tim Worrell. Worrell came in and got Piazza to hit the ball hard, but in the air to center, not deep enough to get past Ledee, and the inning was over.

Braden Looper came on for the Mets in the 9th, as the stadium began to empty out. As this happened, a row of 4 or 5 Philly fans sitting a row or two behind us, began to make more and more noise. After retiring Ledee and Bell quickly, Mike Lieberthal came to the plate.

"COME ON, LIE-BEE, LET'S GET IT DONE!" yelled one of the Philly fans.

El Guapo and I looked at each other, dumbfounded.

"Did you hear what I heard?" he said to me.

I did.

Lieberthal drove a long double over Cameron's head in center.

"YEAH, LIE-BEE! THAT'S GETTIN' IT DONE!"

This wasn't looking good.

Chase Utley followed by poking a pinch single to left, but Floyd charged the ball quickly and threw it back in, holding Lieberthal at 3rd. Jimmy Rollins was next.

"TAKE HIM OUT, J-ROL!"

Oh boy, here we go again.

Rollins, though, hit a comebacker to Looper for the final out. After dispatching of Lie-Bee and J-Rol, I turned around and tipped my hat to the Philly fans.

Ryan Madson came on for Philly in the last of the 9th. He walked Hidalgo, and then promptly wild pitched him to 2nd. Now, we were the ones standing and rooting for a hit with Floyd at the plate. But Madson intentionally walked Floyd, and promptly struck out Spencer, got Wigginton to fly out and Cameron to hit into a weak force play.

"YEAH, MADSON! WAY TO GET IT DONE!"

I didn't like where this was going.

Earlier that year, I had been dating a girl who was also a Phillies fan. In my younger, more wily days, I wasn't so discriminating. But the relationship ended rather badly, and left a particularly poor taste in my mouth, particularly towards the Phillies. I really wanted the Mets to win this game, and the more the group of Philly fans yelled, the more my ire towards the Phillies was raised. By the time we moved to the 10th inning, I was gritting my teeth. Looper worked the 10th and retired the Phillies quickly. Madson did the same to the Mets in the bottom half. Jose Parra came on for the Mets in the 11th, and walked Burrell to lead off (despite the obnoxious "PAT THE BAT!" chants that had me tearing my hear out). But Parra settled down, striking out Ledee, getting Bell to fly to left, and getting Lie-Bee to strike out to shut the Philly fans up. As Lieberthal struck out, I rose to my feet and cheered the Mets off the field. Time to get this game over with.

Roberto Hernandez came on to pitch for Philly in the 11th, and he began by walking Piazza. Art Howe responded by sending Vance Wilson in to run for Piazza. With a thin bench, was this the right move? El Guapo didn't think so. The move threw him into a John McEnroe fit. He looked at me. "Are they serious? He can't be serious," he said. Then he stood. "YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!" he yelled.

Hidalgo followed by flying out to center. Cliff Floyd, however, nailed the first pitch he saw right back up the middle, moving Wilson to 2nd. Shane Spencer followed, and Hernandez quickly went 3-0 on him, before throwing a fat strike that Spencer watched.

"COME ON, MADSON, LET'S GET OUT OF IT!" yelled one of the Philly fans.

"Some fans," I say to El Guapo, "They're not even aware they changed pitchers."

Hernandez, not Madson, walked Spencer on the next pitch to load the bases. Ty Wigginton stepped to the plate as the infield and outfield crept in.

"LET'S GO, ROBERTO!" yelled another fan. Someone must have noticed.

Wiggy responded by drilling a hard shot right back at Hernandez. But instead of getting his glove on the ball, Hernandez could only manage a crude kick save of the ball, letting it dribble in front of him. Mets were flying around the bases as Hernandez desperately tried to pick the ball up. El Guapo and I were screaming for Wilson to "GO! GO! GO!" Hernandez made a desperate fling of the ball towards Lie-Bee at the plate, but could only manage a weak toss that bounced to the plate, arriving just as Wilson completed his slide across home with the winning run. With that, the vitriol that I'd been building up towards the Phillies poured out, as I raised my fist and screamed some unintelligible yells, partially directed at the field, partially directed at the quickly-departing Philly fans, who said nothing as they left. The Mets poured out of the dugout and gang-tackled Wigginton at first, his 60 foot single proving just enough to provide the Mets with a 3-2 victory to kick off the second half of the season, and move them to within one game of the 1st place Phillies.

The ride home is mirthful. The train is well air conditioned, fortunate as there was no breeze to speak of, and the haze was clearly visible in the Shea lights. The William Hurt Game ended up in the Mets favor on this night, but the joy would be short lived. The Phillies would win the next two games in the series, and the Mets, whose offensive struggles had held them back to this point, would only continue, and their desperate attempt at a Pennant race would fall short. Piazza would get injured in the midst of his failed experiment as a 1st baseman within the week. His trip to the DL would result in the arrival of a much-hyped 3rd Base prospect who would turn out to become pretty good as time would go on.

TAKE YOUR HAT OFF!!!

I know, I did this last year. But it's too easy to make that joke and it's always pretty funny. Particularly after the results of last night.

For the Mets, it remains status quo. A little good, a little bad, one day they hit, next day they don't, they pitch, don't pitch, up, down, left, right. I think it's at the point where I'm beyond getting too worked up about it. At least, until the next time Heilman or Wagner or whoever blows a late lead, or the Mets lose a game 3-1, getting 4 hits and looking lifeless.

Last night, they managed to put a little bit of both together, with Pelfrey pitching 7 strong innings, and continuing his recent string of solid to very good outings, further solidifying his place in the rotation. It's nice, for once, to see a prospect such as Pelfrey mature on the job. All too often, we've been told of great prospects and talented young stars in the making who either were traded away or never really panned out like we hoped. Pelfrey, however, has stayed, and stuck it out, and persevered even after a host of well-deserved criticism, and now it appears that he's finally starting to put it together. It's similar, if only in pattern, to Edgardo Alfonzo, who spent two seasons backing up and filling in, shifting positions and playing sporadically before landing the starting Third Base job in 1997 and responding by hitting .315 with 72 RBI. But more than that, Alfonzo was our guy. He was a homegrown player who appreciated his journey and his role in the organization. I'd like to think that, should Pelfrey continue to peform well, he will become a similar figure for the Mets over time. For now, though, let's just let him continue to do his thing, and if he chips in with some clutch hits in the process, that's great, too.

Meanwhile, the Mets ride into Philadelphia tonight and will feature another pitcher who needs to do his thing a little better than he's been doing it of late.

Johan Santana hasn't pitched particularly badly over his last few starts, and his run support hasn't been great, but he's generally been undone by one bad pitch or one bad inning, and it's spelled his doom. We've been waiting for that bigtime Santana performance, and we've seen flashes of that at certain times, but with the Mets in Philadelphia, playing the team that they trail for first by 4.5 games, desperate for some consistency, now would be the time for Santana to step it up. Earlier this season, Santana took the ball in Philadelphia against Cole Hamels and threw a brilliant game and got the victory, the kind of game that made you remember why we got him in the first place.

It's time for him to do that again.

Tonight, Santana takes the ball against J.A. Happ, he of an emergency start due to the struggles of Brett Myers, and he of one Major League game's experience, that coming last season against the Mets, and that which saw him get knocked around for 5 runs in 4 innings, and allow 3 HRs, one to Wright, one to LoDuca and one to Beltran. A repeat of that performance would be nice.

This is the way the Mets are. They could very easily get swept by Philly this weekend, and it wouldn't really surprise me. They could also just as easily win 3 of 4, and that wouldn't surprise me. There could be a massive fistfight between the two teams' warring factions, and that wouldn't surprise me (in fact, I'd say this is the one thing you could most likely count on). Philly is similar, but they run hot and cold in longer streaks. Is this how the entire season will play out?

Probably so.

Parallel Universe

I'm not quite sure what happened last night, but a game that seemed to begin as a mirror image of Monday's game somehow morphed into something else entirely, as if the Mets and Cardinals had drifted into an alternate dimension where the faults of each team, specifically the Mets, seemed to turn into strengths. All of a sudden, here were the Mets, getting up off the mat after falling behind 3-1, and getting a big hit from Castro to tie the game, more hits from Delgado, Church and Castro to take the lead, and a long HR from Wright to cap it all off. Tony Armas, who seemed to hold all the promise of Chan Ho Park as he made his spot start Mets debut, shook off what appeared to be a meltdown of Lima-esque proportions early on and held the line, going so far as to shut the Cardinals down in the 5th inning after the Mets had gone ahead, and earned himself a W.

It's rare, but after all the dumbfounding losses the Mets have had over the first half of the season, they kicked off the second half with a dumbfounding win. Maine's dead arm debacle on Monday did nothing to inspire any confidence, and following that up with a spot starter in Tony Armas, who wasn't very good to begin with, certainly didn't bring much hope. But that appears to be the way this season has gone for the Mets. A little bad, a little good, more bad, some good, dash of bad, sprinkle of good and so on and so forth. So, why not Tony Armas? As if nothing else has worked up to now. And after the first two innings, it appeared that this wasn't going to work either. But, somehow, the Mets hung around and started to hit Todd Wellemeyer, another one of these overachieving Cardinals pitchers. And as Howie and Wayne were busy discussing the genius and the mastery of the Great LaRussa, and here I was getting angry hearing about it, and even angrier when Howie made some references to the NLCS two years ago, and yet here were the Mets chipping away and dragging themselves kicking and screaming back into the game, taking the lead, and before I could really wrap my mind around what was going on, Wagner had closed it out, and the Mets beat the Cardinals.

Go figure.

Diversions

Yesterday, I mentioned that I had more coverage of the Subway Series from Shea. I had wondered if I would actually follow up on this, given that the Mets don't have any off days in the near future. But, since the Mets cooperated with me and laid an egg in St. Louis Monday night, it seems a pleasant diversion from the misery to offer you the Shea Subway Series experience in pictures. Whereas in my other pictorial posts, I've offered many views of Citi Field, or close-up shots of the Game Experience, I thought it more appropriate, with this being the last season of Shea, to take some photos of the Shea experience from the inside. Think of this as something to file away for posterity, views of our beloved Shea as its days wind down.

The game sold out, there's no need for the ticket booth by Gate E to be open. The lineup is posted, as per usual.

The satellite team store is still here. I've never actually gone into this store. I see people in there, although I can't imagine it's much different from the one inside the stadium. Maybe it's less crowded. I don't know.

Gate E has, historically, been my gate of choice, whether or not my ticket says to enter at Gate E. It's become a superstitious habit, in reality. I always go in at Gate E, buy my program, and then walk through to the Escalator by Gate D, up through the Field and to the Loge, then walk through the Loge to the New Era cap stand, then continue upstairs. Sunday, however, I had to stop at the Will Call window to drop a ticket for El Guapo. I went in through Gate D and walked around the Field Level. Blasphemy? Well, the Mets won. So, I suppose, this proves that I'm completely insane.

Better view of the Neon Spaghetti Strands above Gate E.


More Spaghetti. Here's Gate D's version.
And above the Diamond Club.

And, having dropped my ticket and entered the Stadium, I'm now in the Field Level. The Sausage and Peppers has, over the past few seasons, become my food of choice at Shea. It's always tasty and as the food at Shea goes, it's probably the best bang for your buck. Either that or the footlong Hot Dog, if you know where to find it. Keep reading and I'll show you.

What's a photo essay without a shot of BP from directly behind Home Plate?

Most of the satellite concession stands have these campy names like the "Grand Central Grille" or the "Midtown Express." This one's behind Home Plate on the Field Level.

Here's Fernando Tatis in the cage for some BP. Met for a Minute Andy Phillips is walking towards the dugout.

This seat looks like many other seats in the ballpark. The difference with this seat is that I can't afford it.

I believe these packet kiosks are relatively new. But, unlike most of the others which only offer Ketchup or Mustard, this one by the "Grand Central Grille" offers Relish and Onions. I don't know that there are any others like this one.

Sbarro took over the Pizza concession from Cascarino's. You probably read about my Shea Pizza experience a couple of days ago. I have no plans to go back. The Guap and I noticed some brave soul eating pizza during the game. He was mildly nauseated. I had an acid flashback.

Where's Keith?

I'm now walking down the first base side.

I would have liked to get closer to the field, but, in reality, this area is pretty much un-navigable. I was fortunate to get as close as I did.

Hey! Here's a good place to get a Footlong Hot Dog! I don't recall what year Nathan's took over the Hot Dog concession from Kahn's. I've always been pretty partial to Nathan's, although, finicky eater that I am, I only eat them at Shea or at the original location at Surf and Stillwell. The bootleg franchises just don't rate.

This is new. If you ever wanted a game-used, Spring Training Jersey of such luminaries as Gustavo Molina, Brady Clark, Willie Collazo or Ben Johnson, here's the place to find it. This little Mets Authentic Merchandise store has them all. Even jerseys of Tom Nieto and Rick Peterson can be found here. Only $200 a pop. The only players I noticed that were still on the Mets were Aaron Heilman and Scott Schoeneweis. Popular guys, indeed. I thought about getting the Heilman Jersey and sending it to Shirts vs. Blouses as a gag gift. I'm sure he would have gagged.

The Subway is still here. What's even more disheartening is that people are actually eating there. I can't understand why. I didn't take a close look at the prices, although my guess is that they're not participating in the $5 footlong promotion.

This I don't get either.

I'll accept this one, although, again, I didn't take a close look, so I don't know what their $9 Pastrami Sandwich looks like. It's right next to...

...this, which does make sense, although the sadist in me was really tempted to walk up to the counter and whisper to them that Shawn Green isn't on the team anymore.

Get your Mets Mustard here, folks!

I'm not really that close. I'm behind about 20 people and just got a good enough angle to zoom in and catch Pedro warming up.

Heilman, too.

Another look towards home.

I couldn't think of a proper snide response to the question posed to me by the ATM. If you have one, feel free to leave a comment.

People were looking at me funny when I took this picture, on the Loge. But when they tear down Shea and you're trying to remember what the bathrooms at Shea looked like, well, here you go.

I can't afford these seats, either. What's even stranger is that they'll let anyone walk around the Field Level during BP, but they shoo you away if you set foot in the Loge without a ticket.

I'll just continue upstairs, then.

Here's another Grand Central Grille, this one behind Home Plate on the Mezzanine. This one's pretty big. So big, it doesn't fit in the shot.

Only the Mets could make something like napkins look important.

Let's continue upstairs, then.

This is a view I'm more familiar with.

They don't name the concession stands in the Upper Deck. This dreary little stand is the UD's equivalent of the "Grand Central Grille."

OK, these seats, I can afford.

I believe it was Mookie Wilson who said that the best way to tell which way the wind was blowing was to look at the flags at the top of the Right Field side of the Stadium.

These signs telling you where you are are fairly new as well, although I didn't notice them anywhere other than the Upper Deck and outside the Stadium.

I thought this stuff was called "Dippin' Dots." Apparently, it's called "Molli Coolz!" I've never actually had it, but I'm told that it's the Ice Cream of the Future!

This is my seat for the day, Section 11, Row S. Covered, so I won't get wet when it rains later on, and I won't cook in the sun that's out now.

I thought the Apple was going to make the trip to Citi Field, although apparently that's now in some question. Anybody know the truth?


And now, some bonus video...


Ryan Church and Jose Reyes running in the outfield.



Starting Lineups are introduced.



And the Mets take the Field!

And away we go!

Oliver's Army.

At some point, it was raining pretty hard. You could see it ponding on top of the Yankees dugout.

With the Mets ahead, and a threatening forecast, we began to root for the game to speed up just to get to the middle of the 5th and an official game.

But it cleared up. Here, it's nice and sunny as Wright comes to bat in the 6th.

I think they played "Enter Sandman" extra loud when Wagner came in for the 9th just to piss the Yankee fans off.

And here he is.

I think Jeter and A-Rod just make an adorable couple, don't you?

One more out to go...

...And the Mets win!

Rejoyce!

And let the mass exodus begin.

And an out-of-focus shot of the scoreboard to close out the day. In the past, the crowd crush has been so bad that we've either had to stand by the Subway until things thinned out or walked down to Main Street just to get a train. But I think the problems may have finally been ironed out. With the Weekend Express running, the crowds moved steadily through the staircase and we were able to catch an Express in short order. A perfect way to cap off a fine Sunday at Shea.