Observations and adventures from Citi Field

The Citi Field punch list helped us explore the Mets' new home, but Dad, Tim, Andrew and I had all kinds of adventures checking out the ballpark from top to bottom, inside and out.

Here are some of the rest of the things we experienced on Aug. 5, when the Mets smacked around the Cardinals.

There's a chance I really, really like my brick!



Our seats granted us access to the Acela Club, which was pretty darn fancy and with a nice view of the field. We didn't eat there, what with all the knishes and other fine New York dining opportunities inside the park.

But Dad and Tim checked out the bar and were glad that they were able to serve iced tea. I'm not sure they were actually drinking iced tea, but I was pestering the hostess for information about where the Dwight Gooden wall signature was being displayed.

Three employees all tried to help me find someone who knew, even giving me a phone number of someone in the stadium who would know such things. Sadly, this is where I discovered the iPhone was having reception issues.

But this attention also furthered our theory that the real Mets employees were replaced by pod people.



Lots of issues with the trash cans. The top one is nice, but what's with the Y tucking behind the N like that? I've never noticed the cap logo doing that. You have to wonder if someone signed off on that and didn't think it was a big deal, or that people would care. Clearly, we do.
Now, I thought this one was really cool. You have the batting helmet -- blue version, even! -- but my Mom took a look at the photo and asked, "Why did they put a helmet atop a toilet seat?"

We traditionally don menacing Mets tats prior to the game because we are most dangerous people. Andrew, of course, tatted up, too.

Sadly, I forgot I was wearing mine when we went to Coney Island after the game. While on line at Nathan's a guy walked up and said, "So, you go to the game today?"

"Yeah! How'd you know?"

"Cus you got Mr. Met on your face."

Luckily, at Coney Island, a strange facial tattoo didn't make me stand out from too many other people wandering around the boardwalk.

I was ready to annoint Daniel Murphy as my new favorite Met after watching how hard he worked during spring training. I know the season's been a disappointment, well, for everyone. But I'm hoping Murph will pick build on this year and pick it up next season.

My Dad snapped this great shot of David Wright moments before he launched his home run.

Alas, it wasn't long before we saw poor Jon Neise crumple to the ground and get helped off the mound. You can see Jerry in the background calling for Nelson Figueroa.

Albert Pujols congratulates Jeff Francoeur on a rare walk.
It was pretty exciting to see Bobby Parnell make his first career plate appearance -- and slap a hit and even come around to score. Then he earned his first career save. Pretty good game!
Mixed emotions about this guy. Part of me salutes him for honoring Gil instead of being among the thousands at the game with a current player on his back.

But as a jersey purist, I just can't. The Mets didn't have names of their backs when Hodges managed. And if I'm going to mock Yankees fans for putting Ruth 3 on their jerseys, I have to be consistent.
Oh man, Mr. Met himself calls me out on the Streak of Shame! Has he not heard that the streak ended last year in Cincinnati?
Yea! Final score 9-0, Mets win, as proudly proclaimed by the scoreboard and message boards!
We all checked in with the brick one last time before heading out.

Counting our way through Citi Field, part 2

Been a crazy couple days recovering from the glorious New York roadtrip and catching up at work.

But it’s time to get back to the Citi Field punch list!

11) Locate the knish stand. My favorite author confirms there are two locations, and since we’re there on a Wednesday, they’ll be open. Explain what a knish is to my son. Yum!

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! In fact, there were several stands, and Cousin Tim made sure we were able to knish nosh. They were excellent! Tim, however, opted for a pretzel. He dropped it at the concession stand, and was bummed. But the Mets employee said, "No problem!" and gave him a new one. We’re convinced the real Mets employees have been replaced by pod people.

12) Visit with my favorite author and ask him to sign a copy of "Faith and Fear in Flushing."

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! And I credit Greg for being persistent and looking for us when the iPhone suddenly couldn’t get service. Actually, not all the ballpark employees are as helpful as Tim’s pretzel vendor. Greg tells the story so much better than I could.

My copy of "Faith and Fear" now resides next to Robert Caro's "The Power Broker" on the "prized and signed" section of the book shelf.

13) Cross the black bridge in rightfield that they still haven’t named.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! The bridge was much more impressive in person than in the photos, a very nice feature. Greg thinks it should be named after Willie Mays. I don’t disagree, but I want something named after Tom Seaver first.

14) Locate the controversial Dwight Gooden signature, sprawled on the wall of the Ebbets Club, removed, framed and now allegedly on display for all to enjoy.

DENIED! Our first failure. I looked all over the place, and even checked with numerous employees. Some very helpful folks even gave me an phone number to call — which is how we discovered the phone issues. Another employee did some checking, and said it was out for a while, but is now under wraps until the Mets Hall of Fame or something along those lines is created. Not holding our breath, of course.

15) Pose with Mr. Met. My friend Dave Pelland says the World’s Best Mascot makes time to greet fans in the area near the Wiffle ball field, which we also shall attempt to crash.

MISSION PARTIALLY ACCOMPLISHED: We didn’t actually pose with Mr. Met, but we did see him close-up from our seats in the sixth row. We ventured out to the Wiffle ball field, which is very cool. It was camp day, so there were a million kids. We had no chance at getting into the batter’s box to take some swings, but we were able to watch a little.

16) Locate, but not pose with, the infamous Cow Bell Man. Just need to see this guy after hearing about him all these years.

DENIED! I’m not distressed about this. It would have been interesting, but there were other, more important things to do, see, and eat.

17) Purchase something with the awful rectangle Inaugural Season logo, know that it is historic. No team can possibly create a worse logo.

DENIED! This stunned me. The only thing I saw with the horrid patch was the patches themselves at the team shop. Rather than pay $15 there, I bought one for half that on eBay.

But there were many things with the far superior logo that has the rotunda, and I snagged some outstanding caps for our celebrants.

This shows me that the Mets are aware of just how brutal that patch is — national ridicule will do that — but were already locked in to having them on the jerseys.

18) Walk past the Aylssa Milano "Touch" boutique. Openly wonder why it exists. Lament that the ballpark has a Aylssa Milano "Touch" boutique but not a Mets Hall of Fame.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! I did indeed stumble upon the Touch boutique while heading up to find Greg. I did lament. But it sort of out of the way, and not as bad as feared.

19) Find out if we can get down into that field level area in right field under the overhang. Discover what the game looks like from Jeff Francoeur’s perspective.
You can see he rightfield corner under the Model's sign. But it's more fun to see the Home Ron Apple rising after David Wright's blast!

DENIED! We didn’t get there. I don’t know if the area is off-limits. It was a matter of priorities at this point. Maybe putting 20 items on the list was a little too ambitious. Last year we had the benefit of a long rain delay that have me an extra hour or so to wander around Shea. This time there was so much to see and enjoy that we really didn’t to get to explore as thoroughly as I thought. Hmmm. Might have to go back again!

20) Sit back and enjoy seeing the Mets with some of my favorite people in the whole world. Last year was about reliving memories and saying good-bye. This time is about making memories and saying hello!

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! In the most spectacular fashion, I must say. Taking my son to his first Mets game in New York — he attended the first inter-league game at Tiger Stadium as a 5-year-old back in 1997 — was very special, especially being able to do it with Dad and Tim, and Greg, who counts as family.

Next we’ll get to some of the non-punch list observations from our wonderful visit.

The Chicken, Mr. Met and less-worthy mascots

Occasionally at a baseball game, we can enjoy a brush with greatness.

And on rare occasions, we can assist those who are great. For me, this would be that day in 1990 when I had the pleasure of assisting the Famous Chicken with his act.

For this to make sense, you need to realize that I love mascots. We all have our guilty pleasures, our moments of shame.

For reasons I can’t fully comprehend I am drawn to the fuzzy costumed beings that roam the stands inspiring smiles. I am compelled to give them high-fives and when possible pose for a photo – or compel my kids to do so.

When my previous employer, The Flint Journal, created a mascot costume, the marketing types knew who would be the first volunteer. The costume was a giant rolled-up newspaper that I named “F.J. Scoop.”

And yes, inside the character is hotter than Busch Stadium Astroturf in August. Here’s an insider’s secret: The costumes come with a vest with long pockets that hold gel-like plastic strips that you stick in the freezer. You’ll still perspire enough to soak through your clothes, but it makes the heat tolerable for about 45 minutes.

My baseball buddies are aware of this attraction, and humor me by snapping photos. But they say my nadir was forcing them to snap a shot of me with Foto, the Fuji Film mascot at Comerica Park’s Photo Day in 2003.

So naturally, I hold a soft spot for our own Mr. Met. You might not realize it, but our baseball-headed hero was the first of the live action mascots to appear at games. I didn’t see him much in the 1970s – I blame M. Donald Grant and Dick Young. If those two could conspire to trade Tom Seaver, there’s no limit to the evil they could inflict upon us.

My buddy Bob recently tried to raise a ruckus over on the Baseball Truth discussion boards by relating how he took his kids to a park recently and they saw statues of Phil and Phyllis, two kids in colonial garb who were trotted out as Phillies mascots for a while during the 1970s. His kids remarked that they thought Phil and Phyllis were much better than Mr. Met.

Bob’s a teacher, so I was surprised he missed an obvious teachable moment.

The proper response is that the couple were soon jettisoned because they were in fact lousy mascots, violating all sorts of rules. Yes, like the responsibilities for fans we discussed last post, there are some basic responsibilities for mascots.

For the sake of Bob’s kids, let’s review.

1) Be a recognizable thing.
We know what Lou Seal of the Giants is supposed to be, as well as Dinger of the Rockies and even Billy of Marlins fame. Mr. Met of course is a guy with a cool baseball head. But what in the heck was Youppi, the embarrassment that no doubt contributed to the demise of the Expos? Existing as a Muppet reject on steroids is not the basis for suitable stadium entertainment.

2) Be funny.
The Philly Phanatic is an unidentifiable life form, but at least he brings a chuckle. He’s got that motor scooter thing that zips around the yard and he goofs around with players and umpires. He can enhance a game without upstaging the players. Bernie Brewer has his cool chalet and slide that he uses when a Brewers player hits a home run. Compare that to, say, Paws, the Tigers mascot who aimlessly wanders around Comerica Park for no apparent reason.
Zimmer's a mascot, right? I mean, what other purpose could he possibly serve?

3) Have a costume.
The Yankees once had a mascot called Dandy, but he didn’t last very long. They had another, called Don Zimmer, who was around for most of the 1990s. Dandy had a costume, Zimmer for some reason didn’t. He didn’t even wander around the stands, just kind of sat there in the dugout. Pedro went through a brief anti-mascot phase and threw Zimmer to the ground. Luckily he’s over that now.

Condi consults with Mr. Met on matters of state

4) Be a foreign policy expert.

Mr. Met has many skills, including some that we don’t dwell on a lot. But as you can see from this photo, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice sought out Mr. Met for his knowledge of world affairs. Now you know why the Mets host that International Week every year.

The Famous Chicken of course adheres to all these rules, making him the Willie Mays or Tom Seaver of the mascot world.

You can imagine my excitement when I learned that the Chicken would be performing in Rochester during the weekend that I was spending chronicling the life of Mickey Weston, a pitcher from the Flint area who had several cups of coffee, including one with the Mets in 1993.

Before the game I was introduced to the chicken’s alter ego, Ted Giannoulas, who looked a lot like Sonny Bono. We chatted a while, and he seemed like a really nice guy. I was going to ask him about the situation in the Middle East, but his time was short and I’m not a secretary of state.

During that game I abandoned the press box in favor of he photo bin, which was really just a section at the end of the dugout. Needless to say, I learned more about baseball that afternoon than I had in a previous lifetime of fandom.

About halfway through the game I heard a muffled “Dave!” and felt a poke in the back.

It was the Chicken, in full costume, holding a broom.

“When I get on the field, can you hand this to me?”

Can I? You know the scene in “Wayne’s World” when Alice Cooper invites Wayne and Garth to hang out back stage with the band? “We’re not worthy! We’re not worthy!”

So at the appropriate time, the Chicken ran out the dugout steps, turned and said “OK” and I handed him the broom, a prop for one of his gags.

It was my brush with mascot greatness.