Mets ornament of the day: Dropping a big ball in hopes of a better year

I'm not a big New Year's Eve person. But I'm eagerly celebrating the end of 2011.

This has not been a good year. At the risk of tempting fate, I'm very happy to be throwing out the 2011 calendar in hopes that 2012 won't be as bad.

I'm not saying that we are not blessed as a whole, or that there have not been some good times during the past 12 months.

Manny Acosta, Jason Bay and Carlos Beltran sure provided a highlight. I learned a lot about marching bands. And I was able to visit some very interesting places for work, like New Orleans.

But we also suffered some tremendous losses, not even counting Jose Reyes.

I'm optimistic by nature, so there will be genuine celebrating as the giant ball drops in Times Square. I think we will do better in 2012.

And speaking of giant balls, I love this Shea Stadium ornament. While I've seen other ornaments depicting miniature versions of the ballparks, I've never seen this particular design for other teams.

Shea was a happy place for me, a magical place even during the dark times. The horrors of the late 1970s gave way to the glories of Tom's return, Doc and Darryl's emergence, Keith and Gary's arrival and the thrills of 1986.

The years with Jeff Torborg and Dallas Green at the helm melted into Bobby Valentine guiding Mike Piazza and grand slam singles and Subway Series.

Even the short-lived Howe era blossomed with David Wright and Reyes and Pedro and Beltran and a division title.

We work through the setbacks because we know that with hard work and a little luck, all will be good again. The challenges make the successes all the more enjoyable.

May 2012 bring you peace and happiness. It's time.

Mets ornament of the day: Shea Stadium, a little askew

No Mets tree would be complete without at least one tribute to Shea Stadium.

Like the beloved ballpark, my ornament is a little off. The Mets logo that is supposed to help the ornament hang straight.

This one is a little askew, but so was Shea. That's the way I'm rationalized this one, which wasn't quite pictured this way in the photo on eBay. Fighting with eBay vendors on a fairly inexpensive item just isn't worth the time and effort.

But there is much to like about this ornament, especially considering the size. The level of detail is fairly impressive. Note the neon players on the walls, the ticket booths along the entrances and the outfield scoreboard and video boards. Not too bad.

I picture this dangling from a branch and I can just imagine Swoboda stretched out in right, Buddy and Pete mixing it up, Ray Knight stomping on home as the the little roller famously gets by Buckner.

Look closely, and you see Robin Ventura mobbed before he can get to second base, Mike Piazza tugging at the heart with his healing blast and Tom returning home, bowing on the mound to thank the fans.

Shea still remains, at least on postcards.

Postcards are among the way-too-many things I collect, and I’ve had a lot of fun at work and on Facebook writing about the really bad ones.

Now that those are out of my system, I can focus on the other extreme – postcards showing baseball stadiums, especially those belonging to the Mets.

I’ve tried to collect stadium postcards from all the modern ballparks, and usually ask friends, relatives and co-workers to keep an eye out for the on their travels. Note, if you are on the go, I’m missing several.

But of course, all stadium postcard discussions start with Shea Stadium and Citi Field. Mostly Shea, that is, because I’ve struggled to find anything depicting the Mets new home and my glorious brick installed near the front door.

Actually, the selection for Shea is fairly slim, at least considering the bounty available in cities like S. Louis, where Busch Stadium postcards seem to rival those of the Arch.

I’ve come across two early Shea cards, both linked to the World’s Fair. Both are artist renderings, one showing the stadium and the whole waterfront and even part of the airport.


The second is more familiar, a painting that that was used in various team publications. I’ve not sure what’s casting the giant shadows in the parking lots.
The first postcard with an actual photo of Shea is again tied to the wonderful fair, with the stadium in the background and the spectacular Unisphere in front.

The first Shea-centric photo card I’ve found still has the World’s Fair logo, with a view looking into the horseshoe, but blocked by the back of the scoreboard. I’ve tried to figure out where the slightly elevated shot must have been snapped, and there are no postcards I’ve seen looking in unobstructed from beyond leftfield.

Another card uses the same photo, but with cartoon Mets and Jets players.

I’ve found two 1970s era postcards, a large one with a yellow border that just screams the decade. A second is probably the only Shea photo I’ve seen that allows us to see the New York skyline in the background – the real one, not the loveable plywood version that was atop the scoreboard for years. And the orange and blue panels are awesome.

I came across another Shea painting postcard, though it’s part of a tribute to the 1969 team, and there’s a card for every player, coach and even the broadcasters.
The 1980s were not kind to Shea postcards, and I’ve yet to find one with the deep blue paint job.

But there are two nice cards from the 2000s, both interior views, shot at night. One was part of a final season postcard set I found in the Mets gift shop.


The final Shea card – courtesty of Greg Prince – places the beloved ballpark in its proper place among treasured New York landmarks. It’s a general New York card, and we have a photo in the lower right showing the iconic spires of the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building. Then the left side of the card is dominated by a view of the Manhattan skyline, taken, I think, from the south.

That left only room in the top right, and much of New York to represent. What image might be inserted to bring back warm memories of a trip to the Big Apple, or to tell a loved one, “Wish you were here” and really mean it? Lady Liberty might work, possibly Times Square. But are worthy, but why take a chance? The postcards producers wisely opted for a view of Shea.

With the arrival of the new ballpark and a hole in the collection, I spent part of my whirlwind New York trip in March searching high and low for a Citi Field postcard. Actually, I was confined to shops in and around Times Square , Penn Station and the Newark Airport. Denied.

So this artwork postcard will have to make do until I can make a return trip.

And, I suppose the spring training site at Port S. Lucie counts as a Mets home, and I have found one card showing what then was called Thomas White Stadium and the five practice fields.

Billy Joel's "Last Play at Shea" shows he's one of us

There's a funny moment on Billy Joel's live CD recorded on the night 1999 turned to 2000.

“There's some classical shit in there,” Joel said at the conclusion of “The Ballad of Billy the Kid.” “Tried to cop a little Copland.”

I laugh because the line captures why Joel is the embodiment of New York, showing off its beauty and coarseness at the same time.

I remembered that line today as I played by “Last Play at Shea” DVD, a Christmas gift from my wife that arrived this week. I thought it was a concert DVD of the highlights of Joel's two gigs at Shea Stadium in 2008.

I was wrong. It's so much more.

There's plenty of music, for sure. But the documentary is better described as parallel biographies of the performer and the ballpark, and, by extension, the Mets. It's magnificent. I spent most of the afternoon all weepy.

People here in the Midwest don't get Billy Joel. I've seen him perform several times at the Palace of Auburn Hills, and the shows don't compare to the nights I've watched him at the Nassau Coliseum, one of which was captured on video.

The people watching in the shows in the Detroit suburbs enjoy the hit songs, but they don't come with the shared experiences as the man from Levittown. They can't picture the old hotel on the beach he's singing about in “This is the Time,” they think “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant” could take place in a place like Olive Garden because they don't have places like Musicaro's here. They don't picture the fishing boats in “Downeaster 'Alexa'”

They don't get the Mets, either. These one-team cities don't understand how a person could totally embrace one team from your town and be repulsed by the other.

Watching “Last Play at Shea,” I was convinced that Joel was the perfect person to perform the grand stadium's final concerts.

His Mets loyalty has been questioned. He's mentioned the Yankees twice in songs, and there's the VHS of him performing at that place in the Bronx. But notice that they had to draw a picture of him wearing the Yankees cap, and he looks uncomfortable even in that. I suspect the label made him do it.



Because Joel whether he realizes it or not, has more in common with the Mets. Bruce Springsteen – not even a New Yorker, I might add – gets the love from the critics and the Super Bowl performances and the Oscars.

But Joel, as the documentary shows, is like the Mets in that Billy has had his ups and downs, and the ups are very up and the downs really suck. We can relate to that.

He's the boomer who came of age in the 1960s in “We Didn't Start the Fire,” the defensive guy in “My Life,” and the guy out of step with the trends in “It's Still Rock and Roll to Me.” We like orange and blue and giant apples, all right? The Mets are flawed, but we love them just the way they are.

The other team reeks of entitlement and thinks it will win the World Series every year. Billy said in the documentary that he's always surprised when one of his songs becomes a hit.

The movie has all kids of scenes of Shea beauty and magic, from the metal panels to the neon players, from 1969 to 1986.

It's got interviews with Tom and Sir Paul, the very best to perform in the building. And it's even got the best Mets blogger in there to pull it all together.

Sting is in there, too. He confesses he doesn't get the magic of Shea. But he was in “Dune,” too, so his judgment is questionable. Go play in the Bronx.

The film winds down with Paul McCartney trying to land at JFK and get to the concert in time and the Mets scrapping to hang on as the end of the 2008 season. Paul makes it, the Mets don't.

At the end of the concert we see Billy backstage, imploring Paul McCartney to come back for one more song, almost as if he doesn't want the night to end. Kind of how we all felt when we saw Cameron Maybin at the edge of the warning track waiting for Ryan Church's ball to land in his glove.

The documentary ends with time-lapse photography of Shea's demolition that builds a lump in the throat as the sections go down one at a time, each revealing more of Citi Field in the background.

But the cameras keep running right to the lights go on for Opening Night in 2009.

The new ballpark isn't Shea, but it's beautiful.

An All-Star Game at Shea, and another reason to celebrate July 7

July 7 always will be remembered by Mets fans as the day of the only All-Star Game in Shea Stadium history. Ron Hunt ran out the play second base, the first Met player selected to be a starter.

But I'm also going to remember it as a day one year ago that an iPhone app changed my life.

You have to know that I’ve been overweight most of my adult life. I was a bit of a yo-yo dieter, losing a bit, getting frustrated when I couldn’t lose more, then falling back into old habits. I knew it wasn’t healthy, and I knew I had to change.

Then I discovered Lose It!, a free app that asks you to set a goal, and sets a daily a calorie limit to help you meet that goal. I’d record what I ate after every meal, adding up the calories. Then I recorded my exercise, which subtracted the calories I burned.

The app also has little charts and graphic to mark progress, which is key because it provides visual proof of accomplishment, like a box score.

The value here was not necessarily the app, but the education I gained because of it.
I used to think I was eating in a relatively healthy manner. But I was stunned when I learned the actual calorie count of some of my favorites. I used to think I was dieting if I ordered the foot-long roast beef sub, but passed on the cookie or chips.

And I learned how exercising every day — rather than just two or three times a week — makes a tremendous difference. I spend about an hour a day on the treadmill, though with the weather nicer I can run outdoors and paddle my kayak.

As I started to see results, I became more focused. Some might use words like "obsessed" and "annoying."

I set an initial goal of losing 20 pounds and blew past that in a little over a month.

Initially, 30 pounds was bold but realistic goal, 40 pounds a big audacious goal, and 50 pounds was a fantasy. Today I sit here down 60 pounds, hitting the mark in late winter and maintaining it since.

I was going to show a "before" photo, but it was depressing and a little scary. The "after" shots are so much more fun, especially when compared to a leatherback, which can join me on the treadmill.

Eating in restaurants has been a challenge. Chains are good about posting nutritional information on their websites, but I’ve also learned enough to know what to look for on a menu, and that it’s OK to bring some things home in a box.

I’ve also learned about the importance of portions, especially with snacks. A cookie once in a while is fine. Eating five of them, not so much.

I’m also ramped up the amount of fruit and vegetables I eat. We’ve always had healthy family dinners, but I make sure to pack an apple or a banana — or both — in lunch everyday. I also make my own lunches, and it's a good thing that I'm a creature of routine who can happily eat a turkey sandwich every day.

There’s a different mindset, to be sure. I often think, which would I enjoy more, the brownie or good news on the scale?

And there are some things I miss. Qdoba's three-cheese nachos, China City's sesame chicken and the aforementioned Jimmy John's sub are now just fond memories.

But I've learned a taste of a treat is as good as the whole thing, and running can be fun, especially with an iPod loaded up with "God rock" and 1980s hits.

I feel so much better physically — save for some sore knees once in a while — and I no longer duck for cover when someone brings out a camera.

Not long ago, I was in a store and picked up a 40-pound bag of bird seed, and thought it was pretty heavy. Then it dawned on me I was carrying around all that weight and half of another bag, and realized how difficult that must have been on my body.

I’ve heard that most people who lose weight gain it back over time. That might happen to me one day. But I can make sure I won’t head down that path today, and will take it one day at a time.

Making such a dramatic lifestyle change requires a supportive family, because I suspect I’m not as quiet as I hope I am when I rise a 6 a.m. and head to the treadmill. And buying new clothes was an expense we didn’t consider initially, and we all had to sacrifice. I’m grateful to have their backing even when I test their patience.

Now, I share this for a reason. As some of the people leaving comments on this blog tell me often, I’m not a rocket scientist or a brain surgeon. Yet, I could do this. If I can do it, so can other people.

And if you need someone to cheer you on, you know where to find me.

Tux or Tom? Go formal with The Franchise

My son is going to his senior prom this weekend, and he’s intent on renting a tuxedo with the fancy shoes, vest and bowtie.

It’s a classic look, and he’s not going to cringe in 20 years when we pull out the photos.

Meanwhile, a package of joy arrived in the mail Friday, containing what can only be called The. Best. Shirt. Ever., which we’ll call TBSE for brevity in the rest of the post.

I offered this to my son to wear in lieu of the tux. Why just look great when you can look amazin’?

The new TBSE is sold at the new Mets Hall of Fame and Museum, and is a mini biography of our hero Tom Seaver.

Tom is shown from a photo I’m guessing is from 1975 or 1976, about to unleash a laser-like fastball with his knee just about ready to skim the mound in the way we all know and love.

The late Shea Stadium is in the background, the workmark from the front of the uniform is in the top right, and just below it are his No. 41 and arching name, near as it appeared on the back of this 1983 uniform.

The top left has the cap logo, and under that are the year he was elected to the Hall of Fame, Tom’s career 3,640 strikeouts, his three Cy Young Awards and noting his World Championship in 1969.

I’m still ticked that there aren’t two more Cy Young Awards on there from the 1971 and 1981, but we can’t go back and correct voters at every turn. It’s a shirt, not a protest.

One might ask why it took until 2010 for the Mets to produce such a fantastic shirt, but, again, we must be thankful that it’s here now.

It should be noted that my son’s tux will have none of this important information. I fear that many, if not all, of his high school classmates will go through the entire evening without one discussion of Tom Seaver or reflections about upon his career, even the 1986 season we don't mention in polite company.

So I suggested he toss the tux and strut with Tom. He could still wear the shiny shoes, but not the bowtie. And the lovely blue color of the cotton-poly blend will certainly compliment whatever his date is wearing. We even had plenty of time to match the shirt with her corsage.

Hey, the Mets are still wearing a lot of black. He could wear the alt cap, too!

Rejected.

In fact, I’m not sure he seriously considered the offer. And he quickly denied my attempt to be a chaperone.

It should be noted that the new arrival is the latest in a collection of TBSEs. When these eventually wear out, my wife ensures they are still available for future generations by giving the shirts a second life as throw pillows.

They’re not allowed on the sofa in the living room – don’t get me started – but do add a splash of style and color to The Baseball Room.

When the competition is two foods and a fraud, Mets can race to the front with felines

We’re hearing all kinds of rumors – mostly from reading Metsblog– that the Mets are planning to add some kind of race to add to the in-game excitement.

Sadly, our team no longer employs Steve Trachsel, because we could have enjoyed races between pitches, rather than between innings. Marathons, even. At least a 5K.

Granted, a competition between costumed racers is not the most original idea out there. But anyone looking at our ballpark knows that originality isn’t exactly the Mets’ forte. Heck, if anything, we’ve made swiping from other teams an art form.

The Brewers, of course, have the racing sausages. Brett Wurst the bratwurst, Stosh the Polish sausage, Guido the Italian sausage and Cinco the sombrero-wearing chorizo, when not offending entire ethnic groups by their stereotypical outfits and names, battle Frankie Furter.

That would be a giant hot dog and not the Tim Curry character from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, who would be so much more entertaining.

Sadly, going "El Kabong" on Guido was the defining moment of Randall Simon's career.

Randall Simon of the Pirates tried to make the race entertaining without resorting to singing “Sweet Transvestite” by whacking Guido with a bat, well, tapping him actually. But you have to stick with the stereotype. The stricken sausage fell to the ground, taking the leather and fishnet stocking-less Frankie with him.

The Pirates, no doubt in an effort to rehabilitate Simon, created their own Great Pierogi Race, featuring Jalapeño Hannah, Cheese Chester, Sauerkraut Saul and Oliver Onion.

I’ve witnessed both of these races, and they are indeed fun.

Then there is the gross miscarriage of justice that is the Washington Nationals’ racing presidents.

Anything that combines my twin passions of presidents and baseball would be glorious, one would think. And when you add that the competitors are the quartet from Mt, Rushmore – with Long Island’s own Theodore Roosevelt -- well, you’re looking at Hall of Fame worthy ballpark tradition up there with watching batting practice, singing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” and paying $4 for a Diet Coke in a plastic collectible cup.

But, no. As they most always do unless they are playing the Mets in a crucial September game, the Nationals fail miserably.

You see, the team has made our hero the butt of jokes. President Roosevelt is famous for never once winning a race. There’s even a Web site called "Let Teddy Win"

Friends, is there any doubt that the Rough Rider would be dee-lighted to kick the butts of all three of those other commanders-in-chief? In real life, there would be a Web site called, “Theodore (no one called him ‘Teddy’) Let Someone Else Win Once in a While.”

So this is the competition the Mets face. Two foods and a fraud. The Amazin’s can do so much better.

I asked my loving family for suggestions. Wise guy son suggested various wounded Mets on crutches and in casts, but I insisted we’ve turned the page from last year.

They also offered vice presidents – since we’re stealing shamelessly anyway – and zombies, because, well, teen-agers love them.

We also suggested various superheroes who call New York home, like Batman and Spider-Man. But then you have issues with licensing rights and sidekicks, and before long you have the Wonder Twins and Wendy and Marvin tagging along for no good reason.

They also suggested various New York-based rock stars. As much as I’d like to see Twisted Sister, Kiss and Billy Joel taking turns embarrassing Neil Diamond, I’m not sure it would work. “Heart Light” only proved that Neil might not be capable of being shamed.

I went right for my New York icons, which I cling to dearly, decorating my living room and desk area at work with their images. Co-workers need to be reminded daily that one of us is from New York and it is not them.

We could have Lady Liberty racing the Empire State Building, a Big Apple, the Unisphere and, dare I be so bold, a giant poppy seed bagel!

Alas, this was dismissed at the dinner table as being too clichéd.

Then my wife had a fantastic thought, inspired, perhaps by Tug, the family pet.

Racing cats, she suggested. Brilliant!

Cats have a long history with the Mets.

Remember the black cat that ran out in front of the Cubs dugout in 1969, placing the dreaded "Fading in September Curse" upon them?

Remember the cat that made quite a stir during Citi Field’s nationally televised debut? It appeared on the field out nowhere, jumping on the screen behind home plate. He would have scared the heck out of Gov. Patterson had Patterson been able to see him!
This kitty was the only life form to step onto the Citi Field turf and not end up on the disabled list.

Remember, the beloved Shea Stadium was legendary for being the home to dozens of otherwise homeless cats.

The way I see it, we could have giant mascot cats, each named after a beloved Mets player of the past. You’d have Mookie running against Choo-Choo, Casey, Rusty, Tug and Benny Agbayani. (Hey, I wanted someone from each era). They’d each be wearing a jersey with the name and number on the back.

And they’re cats! You can’t herd them. They’ll run all over the ballpark every which way. It’s all part of the fun. Then a mouse dressed like Derek Jeter can appear near the finish line and the now-focused kitties can pounce on him like hard rain.

It’s marketing gold, I tell you! Think of all the merchandising opportunities. And it would show that the Wilpons know something about team history, which would be nice.

So Brewers and Pirates, keep your mobile concession ads. Nationals, continue to insult one of our finest heroes. We’ll have a borrowed idea of a promotion with a hometown twist and a nod to our traditions and history.

At least it is better than the animated taxi race on the scoreboard.

My family is standing by for any other consulting needs the Mets might have.

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.

Counting the ways our visit to Citi Field was perfect

It’s not Shea. It never will be.

But I can’t hold that against Citi Field, the Mets’ beautiful new home.

Wednesday’s first visit to Citi was perfect! And the Mets even won the game, showing some offense and great pitching, smacking around the Cardinals 9-0.

This will be the first of several posts detailing the afternoon, as we had all kinds of adventures.

Dad, Tim, Andrew and I arrived about two hours before game time and went right to work on the punch list, soon to be joined by Greg Prince, who is considered family in the Mets Guy household.

Naturally, tremendous thought went into this mission, including what to wear. Both World Series victories were represented. I went with my classic 1969 Tom Seaver Mitchell & Ness flannel and Andrew showed off the 1986 jersey – my first authentic! – complete with the 25th anniversary patch. You’ll read about Tim’s choice in a minute.

We explored the ballpark, inside and out, top to bottom, checking off items from the punch list along the way. Let’s start!

1) Find my brick. Tim is the benefactor of my slice of Citi Field real estate, located in section 18. Expect photos from every possible angle.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! This was a very emotional moment, to be sure. We found it right there in section 18, just to the left of the front of the ballpark. It would be nice to meet the Franzese Family from Rockville Centre, Mary Scanlon and the Carney Family. After all, we’re neighbors!

Greg was kind enough to show us his brick, too.

The brick makes me feel very connected to the new yard, even though I’m 800 miles away.

2) Find the plaque that shows the location of Shea’s home plate, bases and pitching rubber now located in the parking lot. Recreate the scene from Tom Seaver Day when Tom stood on the mound and bowed to all sections of the stadium.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! The Mets designed the parking lot so no cars would be right on top of the plaques designating where Cleon Jones batted, Robin Ventura and Felix Millan fielded and Keith Hernandez scooped up long throws. We happily recreated Tom’s magical moment, and others.





Bowing just like Tom did on his special day.

Tim is taking a big lead off of Shea's third base. I hope he doesn't have to slide head-first when he heads home!

3) Don the photo-day-worn Freddy Garcia jersey that Dad won during the spring training home opener. Freddy never got to Citi Field, but I think it would be nice for at least his jersey to make it there.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! Tim did the honors, and looked great! We hope Garcia enjoys knowing that someone wanted him to get to Citi Field.

4) Revel in the beauty of the giant Mets history mural outside the stadium, stretching from Stengel to Santana.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!! From both sides, I might add. I read the constant complaints that there isn’t enough about the Mets in the Mets’ home, but this mural is pretty spectacular.

5) Look for the silhouettes of Endy’s leap, Swoboda’s dive and Tom’s delivery outside the entrance gates.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! They blend in a little too much, but I think they’re still a very nice touch.

6) Enter through the Jackie Robinson Rotunda, marvel at Jackie’s courage while ignoring that his link to the Mets is, well, not not especially strong. Pose for group photo in front of the giant 42 sculpture; search in vain for the giant 41 sculpture that we know should be there, too.

MISSION ACOMPLISHED! The rotunda is everything advertised, a wonderful tribute to a true American hero. The Mets even placed a pair of cleat marks on the floor in front of the No. 42 so you know the best place to stand. We did lament the lack of a giant No. 41.

7) Squish pennies for my daughter. I hear there is a machine in the main team store off the rotunda that has inaugural year designs. I also hear that the Mets charge $1 per squish instead of the usual 50 cents, and this is outrageous.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! Too expensive, but it was nice that the team has special “inaugural year” designs to squish. The machine was easily found in the gift shop, which was huge. There were some nice specials, too.

8) Locate the former Home Run Apple on display in Bullpen Plaza. Pose for many photos.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! How do you not get all weepy posing with the Home Run Apple? A Mets staffer was on hand taking photos for folks. He had some rules, too. A group of Yankees fans wanted to pose. He said he wouldn’t take the photo until they changed, pointing out that there were t-shirts in the gift store for as little as $10, and they needed to go and buy some before they would be allowed an audience with the Apple.

9) Photograph the massive new Home Run Apple. I hope it’s up and on display before the games like the old one was. Given our home run production this year, that might be my only chance to see it.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! And shame on me for lacking confidence in our Mets mashers. The new Home Run Apple was in fact out of its silo for all to see prior to the game. But it came rising out twice, celebrating blasts from David Wright and Angel Pagan.

On the rise after David Wright's bomb. Poor Rick Ankiel is sad, but he is capitvated by the glory of the Apple and watches it, wishing the Cardinals had something that cool at Busch Stadium.

10) Locate the New York Skyline that once graced the Shea scoreboard and now rests above the Shake Shack concession. I’ve never had something from a Shake Shack, but have heard wonderful things.



MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! The skyline looks a lot nicer now that it is down lower and we can get a good look at it. There is a lot more detail than I realized. The Shake Shack line was already long, but we walked right up to the counter at Blue Smoke.


Perfect score so far. We’ll cover No. 11 through 20 in the next post.