Shea Quest '08: Things to see while taking a final look

An advantage to getting to Shea well before the gates open on Saturday was that we had all kids of time to explore and snap photos to remember my favorite ballpark.

Here are some images I thought folks might enjoy.

I really like the neon players over the gates. They are features unique to Shea.

The Citi Field logo might grow on me, someday. But that won't happen anytime soon.


I've never noticed this cool iron work around the trees. It reminds me of the little NY that was in the team logo until it was updated several years ago.


No wonder David Wright feels like he's under so much pressure. I saw a couple of these trailers, and Wright was the only player featured. Carlos Beltran isn't marketable?

My dad, who grew up in Brooklyn and went to Ebbets Field, said he liked the rotunda. It does look pretty neat. I liked the team store, too.


I have to say that the Mets are doing a much better job of offering cool souvenirs. Sadly, most of the prices were stupid-expensive, as opposed to basic ballpark-expensive.

I waited for Fred Wilpon to arrive, but he was a no-show.

Citi Field rising in the background.

Honoring Tom Seaver, as they should. None of these colorful touches were there in 1991 when I last saw a game at Shea.

No Yankee fan dared mess with Tim and me in our sweet Mets temporary tats.

Clearly, we are dangerous people.

I thought this was pretty cool for an elevator, especially when Glenn Close is on the other side. This took me up to the Diamond Club.

I saw this dog statue hidden near the pay phones in the Diamond Club lobby. "What's with the dog?" I asked a woman working the velvet rope. "Beats me," she said. "I think there's a sign on it. Something about rescue dogs." At least the pooch is wearing his team colors.


Here's some detail on the tremendous 1969 World Series trophy. And how is it different from all other World Series trophies? Each of the little banners has a team name on it. This is the only trophy to have the Seattle Pilots on it.

Jerry Grote and Tom Seaver, forever forming a battery in the Mets Hall of Fame.

The giant apple, I get. The giant coffee cup, not so much.

This is the view from the Tommie Agee marker, where his upper deck blast landed in 1969.

I was hoping someone famous would pull down the number in the countdown, especially in such a big game. Alas, this was some young fan.

I didn't mind the rain delay because it gave me time to explore some more. I found the Steiner game-used memorabilia shop in right field. These are game-used jerseys from spring training, selling for $200. But you can fondle them for free, at least for a while, as I discovered.

This is what Shea looks like in a monsoon. The view with Citi Field is kind of cool.

I thought the "rain delay" sign with Mr. Met was kind of cool, though unnecessary. When the tarp is on the field, and thunder and lightening abound and buckets are dropping from the sky, I'm pretty sure Mets fans are smart enough to realize it's a rain delay. Oh, wait. Yankees fans were there, too. Never mind.


This is jersey abuse. Getting the traitor Damon on the back of a jersey is bad enough. But everyone knows the Yankees don't have players' names on the backs of their jerseys. I assume this is to spare them the embarrassment. Making things worse, this dude had a Joba t-shirt under his jersey. Pick one player at a time, please.


OK, the Derek F. Jeter shirt I expect. The Doof-Rod fan has it right, and I can accept the blank jersey. But the Mantle jersey with the name on the back? Kid, the Mick never wore polyester, at least during a game. And he most certainly never, ever had his name on his jersey.


I saw this kid after the game. His request was granted, as D-Wright hit one after play resumed. Next time he should aim higher, like asking for a victory.

Shea Quest '08: Finishing off the Farewell bucket list

OK, so we were off by a day. I’m glad the Mets could finish off Shea’s final Subway Series on a high note.

Here’s the second part of my 20-point Shea Quest “Bucket List,” with photo evidence where possible.

And I’d be remiss in not thanking all the folks who left comments and sent e-mail offering tips and suggested. Some of these would not have been possible without your assistance.

The previous post had numbers 1-10, so we pick this up at No. 11.

11) Make my way down to the field level seats deep in left to get as close as possible to the retired numbers for a photo. Then buy a frame when I get home for No. 41.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! Taking advice, I walked straight to that section like I knew what I was doing moved all the way to the rail and snapped off all the shots I needed. My wife has declared veto rights on the frame and hanging spot.

12) Walk up to a Yankee fan – any fan, it doesn’t matter – and say “Deep down, you know he’s over-rated, right?” That fact that they will know I am talking about Jeter without even saying his name shows that they know the truth.


MISSION ACOMPLISHED! Tim gets credit for this. There was guy in our section with Yankee gear, and he dropped the “Jeter is over-rated line” masterfully. The guy didn’t dare strike back, offering up a feeble, “Yeah, so is ARod.”

I think this happened for one of two reasons. The first is that the fan knows that Jeter is in fact over-rated. And throwing ARod under the bus is second nature for these people.


But the other is that I think the guy was just plain scared. Tim, Dad and I geared up before the game with Mets temporary tattoos purchased in the gift shop. We each had the Mets logo on one cheek, and a huge Mr. Met on the other. You have to be a pretty big bad ass to feel confident enough to walk around with a huge Mr. Met on your face. Because clearly, we were capable of almost anything at that point and were not to be messed with.

13) Participate in a “Jose Joooosseee Jose Joooooseeeee” chant.

MISSION ACCPMPLISHED! Well, kind of. There was no stadium-wide chant, but a couple smaller chants. Probably because Reyes was doing nothing more spectacular than getting picked off second.

14) Sneak into the Diamond Club to see the Mets Hall of Fame, pay tribute to the Seaver bust.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! Oh, and in glorious fashion. This was one of the best adventures of the trip. I took an elevator from the Loge to get there, and actress/Mets fan Glenn Close walked on. A brush with fame is always pretty sweet. I tried to not look like I was looking at her and blend in. But then, I did have a large Mr. Met on my face.

I stepped off the elevator and saw the gift store straight ahead and a maze of velvet ropes. An employee asked if I had Diamond Club reservations. Following advice, I asked to go to the gift shop and was let through the ropes. Then I asked where the Hall of Fame was located, and the employee said, “Ah, turn around. And there they were.

Tributes were paid, but it is not an especially impressive-looking display. Then again, anything that holds two World Series trophies and a Tom Seaver bust is by definition impressive.

One question: All of the players are depicted from their playing days and in uniform. But Cleon Jones’ bust shows him in a suit and tie and looks to be around the age he was when he was enshrined, long after his career was over. Anybody know what happened there?

After all this glory, I came back with the whole gang. And who steps on the elevator. Glenn Close – again! Either that’s an amazing coincidence or she likes to ride the elevator.

15) Buy one of those souvenir mini-bats with Mike Piazza on it, find a Yankee fan in a Clemens jersey and pretend to throw it at them, then say, “NOW YOU KNOW HOW MIKEY FELT, PUNK!”

DENIED! The souvenir bats were $12, and that’s too much try to teach a lesson to a Clemens fan.

16) Find the one they call “Cow Bell Man.” I hear it’s not wise to engage in conversation with Cow Bell Man or even look him directly in the eyes. But I’m just curious to see what this guy is all about.

DENIED! I saw plenty of strange looking and behaving people, but none were “Cow Bell Man.” Maybe he doesn’t get into the Loge. But I did a lot of walking and was listening for cow bells, and did not hear them. How is it possible to share an elevator with an Oscar-nominated actress – twice! – and not even catch a glimpse of a guy everyone called ubiquitous.

17) Walk up to a Yankee fan – any Yankee fan – and say, “So, is this the year he tests positive?” They’ll know who I’m talking about.

KIND OF. I threw a pretty week taunt at a Yankee fan after the game when he made some Jeter crack. But Jeter’s not the one we’re all thinking of. Nothing to be proud of.

18) Refuse to sing along with “Sweet Caroline” when it’s played on the PA. I like the song, but it’s lame to steal a Red Sox tradition.

MISSION DENIED! As several friends commented, the Mets have already stopped playing this. So I can’t take credit, nor could I not participate as planned.

19) Have my new camera ready on the video setting for when the Mets hit a home run and the glorious apple rises from the top hat in centerfield.


FAILURE. Both Castro and Wright hit homers, and both time the apple went up and down before I could even get the camera out. But I enjoyed watching it.

20) After the game ends, I want to stay for a moment and look to the spot in left where Cleon dropped to one knee with the final out in his glove, the mound where Seaver bowed and the place behind first base where Mookie’s dribbler rolled past.I want to see and the spot midway up the scoreboard where Mo’s blast hit – and the area below it where Robin’s “grand slam single” landed.I want to look at the foul territory where “Mettle” briefly ran to remember that as bad it is, it’s not as bad as it was.I want one more look at the outfield wall where Endy leapt and the dirt around second where Pete and Buddy brawled, and the infield grass to speculate when and where Jesse’s glove finally landed and the area near home plate where Say Hey said “Willie, say ‘Good-bye’ to America.”I want to burn all of these places into my memory, as if to stick them into my backpack with the program and yearbook and camera. Then, finally, I can say, “Good-bye” to Shea.

I look at this and see Tom, Willie, Yogi and Rusty walking out to ask the fans in left to stop throwing garbage at Pete Rose.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. I actually did this through out the day – and the hour-long rain delay. James Earl Jones’ line in “Field of Dreams” about the memories being so thick that you have the swat them away is true. There wasn’t a part of the ballpark that didn’t summon a memory of a game, a play or a special day.

Dad said he found it hard to believe that this building that Shea simply wouldn’t exist a year from now.

We’re going to look out on Citi Field and not see Cleon or Willie or Tom. Nothing will need to be swatted.

Which is not to say there won’t be new memories. It’s just a little hard to let go of the old ones.

Shea Quest '08: Of course they lost. But a wonderful day at Shea

Me, Dad and Tim before our final game at Shea Stadium.

In my very first trip to Shea Stadium in 1971, the best pitcher on the Mets – if not all of baseball – lost 3-2 on a rainy afternoon.

In what I expect to be my last trip to Shea on Saturday, the best pitcher on the Mets – if not all of baseball – lost 3-2 on a rainy afternoon.

I am, if nothing else, a creature of routine. And my streak of not seeing the Mets win in person since 1991 continues. But the loss to the vile Yankees put only a slight damper on a glorious day at Shea with my Dad, cousin Tim and Aunt Dee.

There were plenty of adventures, and we’ll get to those during the week. But first let’s see how we did on the official Shea Farewell bucket list.

We’ll hit the first 10 today and offer photographic evidence when possible.

1) Buy a program and yearbook immediately after entering the stadium.


MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. Easy enough. The vendor was right inside the gate. Both the yearbook and program are impressively thick this year. And of course I properly kept score in the program.

2) Meet Mr. Met! The team never had the mascot out there in the 1970s and 1980s when I was able to attend games. After seeing photos of the new and improved Mr. Met – and being subjected to other mascots good and bad in other ballparks – I must have an audience with the ball-headed one.

Partial success. We got to see Mr. Met on the field at atop the dugout.

3) Head to the Clubhouse Shop and find the awesome penny squishing machine for my daughter.


MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. But I lost two of the four squished pennies, the one of Mr. Met and the one reading “You Gotta Believe.” I think this happened in the gift shop when the security guy wanted to see my receipt and I had to dig trough my pockets.

4) Boo Derek F. Jeter when the starting lineups are announced.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. I don’t think we even waited that long.

5) Eat a ballpark knish. People in the Midwest have absolutely no idea about knishes.

DENIED! The kosher stand was closed on a Saturday.

6) Boo Derek F. Jeter when he comes up to bat. Every time.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! Not only did we boo him, but we came up with a Jeter chant: “OVER-RATED clap, clap, clap-clap-clap” People sitting near us in the Loge picked up on it, and by the end of the game we could hear fans in other sections starting the chant even without use leading it. Very exciting.

7) Somehow get into the picnic area beyond left field. I’ve never been out there, and it’s the closest Shea has to bleachers.

DENIED! No one is allowed to pop in for a couple photos.

8) Eat a ballpark pretzel – but only if it’s cooked over charcoal. I have no delusions that it will be warmed by the charcoal, but it at least should smell better than the ones spinning on racks under heat lamps.

DENIED! No outside vendors, and inside stands only had the spinning racks.

9) Boo Derek F. Jeter every time he makes a routine play then rolls around in the dirt in a shameless attempt to get on ESPN’s Web Gems.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! We did not lack opportunities or motives to boo Capt. Intangibles.

10) Find that spot in the right, err, left field upper deck where Tommie Agee’s epic blast is marked.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. Heck, the only question here is how in the heck I couldn’t find it before. Once I knew where it was, I could see it from any spot in the stadium.

OK, those are the first 10. The rest are coming.

Shea Quest '08: Tom takes a bow for top memory

Tom, before making his dash to the mound.

Shea Memory Countdown No. 1: July 24, 1988, Braves 4, Mets 2

I suppose it’s fitting that the Mets didn’t even win the games that make up my top two Shea Stadium memories.

That must mean that my glass is half-full when it comes to the Mets, and that our happiness doesn’t necessarily depend on the final score. I think anyone who stuck by this team through the 1970s and early 1980s has to feel that way.

What transpires Saturday could change everything, but it would be hard to top what happened on Tom Seaver Day.

My whole family has endured my passion for the Mets and Seaver, and they were all present when Tom won that magical 300th win at Yankee Stadium three years earlier.

We decided to make the day when Seaver was honored by the Mets a family affair as well. Six of us – including my fair bride of less than a year – went to Shea to watch Tom enshrined in the Mets Hall of Fame and have his No. 41 retired.

I’m not much for bringing signs to games, but we spent the day before preparing two pieces of poster board for a sign reading “41 FOREVER” and tape to hang in from the rail.

I remember Tom and Nancy waving from a convertible, entering through the centerfield gates and driving to the home plate area, where Tom was presented with the usual gifts and his now-retired jersey.

Then, with great drama, the plywood was removed from the fence to show a huge 41 in a white circle with pinstripes. Seaver was the first – and still only – Mets player to have the honor.

Tom’s speech wasn’t anything especially memorable, until the very end.

''To those on the field and in the stands and at home watching on television, I'd like to say thank you. If you'll just allow me to say it in my own special way. And if you know me, and you know how much I love pitching, this is a special way.''
Seaver then ran out to the mound, stood on the pitching rubber. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do. I didn’t see a ball, and noone was behind the plate with a glove.

Then, as Shea erupted in cheers, Tom bowed, like an actor at center stage to a rousing hose after a great performance. First he moved to face right field, then to those behind the plate and, finally, to those of us in left field.

It was brilliant and classy and said so much without saying anything at all. In other words, vintage Seaver.

The Mets did a decent job on their end. There were special t-shirts and caps to buy, and WFAN handed out “I was there” stickers, all of which are on display in the baseball room.

Alas, there were two blemishes on the day.

First, after the bowing the team directed attention to a special video tribute on the Diamondvision. It started with footage of Shea and Tom and tinkling piano playing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”

Then came the unmistakable voice of WFAN’s Suzyn Waldman, who at that point was not exposed as the hysterical, weepy Yankee freak that we know today.

What follows is possibly the most cringe-worthy two minutes, 37 seconds even captured on tape. It’s embarrassingly bad, the kind of thing that makes mothers cup their hands over their children’s ears. I think some of the crowd was cheering for the sentiments that were intended to be expressed, some cheered to be polite and others, like me, cheered that the song was over.

Here's the video tribute from the game. But don't say I didn't warn you.

And if Waldman went all Broadway on Seaver, can you imagine what she’d do for Clemens or another Yankee?

The team will have another chance when a Mike Piazza Day is finally scheduled. Please, guys, no more “tributes” from Yankee hacks.

The other blemish was the game itself. A day after rookie John Smoltz slapped down the Mets, they were set to face another Braves rookie pitcher.

Let’s just say German Jimenez will always remember Tom Seaver Day. It was the only win of his one-year major-league career.

He held the Mets to one run on four hits in five innings and gave way to Charlie Puleo, who was traded by the Mets to the Reds with Lloyd McClendon for one Tom Seaver back in 1983.

Tim Teufel had a good day, with three hits and four at-bats, but he was pretty much the only one. The Braves tacked on a run in the ninth to make the score 4-1, which I thought was appropriate considering the number of the day..

But then Darryl Strawberry ruined that, too with a home run in the bottom of the ninth, making it just another loss to the stinking Braves.

Hopefully we have a magic day today. But if the Mets lose to the vile Yanks, it’s still going to be a special afternoon. You have to think that way when you root for this team.

Shea Quest '08: One career saluted, one career started and one about to crash.

I’m going to lay Shea Memory Countdown games No. 3 and 2 side by side here for a reason. I’ll actually start with No. 2 and work backward. It will all make sense in the end.

Shea Memory Countdown No. 2: July 23, 1988, Braves 6, Mets 1

It can be said that we came to Shea that day for the exhibition, not the main event.

That year, July 23 and 24 were dedicated to Tom Seaver, No. 41 was going on the wall for on Sunday, but I was just as excited to head to the Saturday game.

The prior year, 1987, was a tease for the Mets in so many ways, but the one that struck most closely in my household was Seaver’s near return to the Mets after most of the rotation got hurt.

It would have been perfect. We were living in Connecticut at the time and my buddy Rich were frequent attendees at Shea, Fenway or the dump in the Bronx to root for the opposition.

I took Seaver’s 1983 return for granted and didn’t get to see him pitch in person after the Opening Day debacle. That wasn’t going to happen again.

But, as we know, the semi-retired Seaver of 1987 decided he just didn’t have it anymore after a series of simulated games and minor-league warm-ups.

So I wasted no time in snagging tickets for July 23 when it was announced that “Tom Terrific” would make his first appearance at a Mets Old-Timer’s Game.

There was something spectacular about Tom, in a Mets uniform, throwing from the mound at Shea, even if he was just lobbing meatballs out there for the other retired veterans to swat at. One of my friends at my former paper in Connecticut took the action shot from that game.

It was the fitting coda that we were denied in 1987, and a preview of the celebration that was to come the next day.

The official game that day was pretty interesting, too. Bob Ojeda was on the mound for the Mets, and a kid pitcher was making his major-league debut for the Braves.

Ojeda gave up two runs right away, and the Mets got one back in the bottom of the first when the rookie hit Lenny Dyksta -- the first batter he had faced in the majors – and Nails came around on a Dave Magadan double.

Sadly for the Mets, that was the last run they’d score that day. In fact, they’d only get three more hits off the kid. The score was closer than the 6-1 final indicates, because Mets reliever Edwin Nunez coughed up three of those runs in the ninth.

The kid pitcher making his debut? That would be John Smoltz.

In addition to torturing the Mets since that day, Smoltz has piled up 213 wins and 154 saves and some stud-muffin performances in the postseason.

Smoltz is a Michigander, and I’ve met his dad a number of times at baseball card shows when he was selling things for a charity. Nice guy.

His son is probably headed to Cooperstown, which is where I thought Dwight Gooden was destined to be enshrined. Which leads me to:

Shea Memory Countdown No. 3: June 19, 1989, Mets 5, Expos 3

This was Gooden’s 100th win. Even after the drug problems surfaced, I was confident that Doc would have 200 more wins, certainly 150 more.

Instead, it was the last win he’d get that year.

The line score was vintage Doc, with five hits and three runs over seven innings. He had nine strikeouts to go with just two walks.

That brought his record for the season to 9-2, and with three weeks until the All-Star Game it was safe to think that a second 20-win season was in the works.

Instead, he hurt his shoulder, and added only two losses to his stats. It’s safe to say that his midseason departure doomed the Mets chances of defending the division title.

Of course, looking at the box score and seeing “Samuel CF,” I realize Doc doesn’t carry that burden alone.

Gooden had one more great season for the Mets, going 19-7 in 1990 before slipping to 13-7 in 1991, 10-13 in 1992, 12-15 in 1993 and 3-4 in 1994, when he was busted for drugs again and suspended for the rest of that season and all of the next.

Save for one glorious night of no-hit ball with the Skanks, Doc’s magic was gone. He was in the Bronx in 1996 and 1997, then Cleveland in 1998 and 1999 before the disaster of 2000 when he was dumped by the Astros after one game and canned by the Devil Rays – the Devil Rays! – after eight.

He wrapped up the season in the Yankees bullpen, but luckily didn’t appear in the Subway Series. I’m not sure which would have hurt more, to see him pitch well against us, or if we wailed on him.

Gooden finished with 194 career wins and 112 losses, an outstanding .634 winning percentage despite all his issues.

In fact, he’s still among the Mets’ all-time leaders in most pitching categories, including wins, where his 157 trails only Seaver.

Yet when I make my way to the Mets Hall of Fame on Saturday, I won’t find a bust for Gooden. Because as good as we thought he was on that day in 1989, there should have been so much more.

Shea Quest '08: "Welcome Home Tom"

Shea Stadium Memory Countdown No. 4: April 5, 1983. Mets 2, Phillies 0

Opening Day of 1983 was the best game I almost saw.

I suppose I did get to watch part of it, the part of the field you can see from the train station that used to be just beyond rightfield.

But we could see the mound, and that’s all that mattered that afternoon. I needed visual confirmation that Tom Seaver was back where belonged and the world once again was turning on its proper axis.

My friends at Nassau Community College were well aware of my devotion to the Mets and to Seaver — it would be impossible for them to not be. We were a close group, all of us on the staff of the campus newspaper, and piled into the car to head to Shea to celebrate my birthday, which was two days prior.

Get tickets in advance? We were college kids! We didn’t plan things in advance. And besides, it’s not like the Mets attracted crowds. We even parked for free in our secret spots in Flushing Meadows Park. When you come from the park, you walk across a long, boardwalk-like bridge over the train tracks, and descend through the train stop.

We walked up to the ticket window and were stopped in our tracks by a hand-made sign reading, "SOLD OUT."

The Mets? Sold out? Are you kidding me?

I remember we slowly circled the stadium two or three times in a daze. I don’t know what we expected to find. But after all that driving and walking we needed to do something. And it’s not like we could go to some sports bar across the street to watch the game.

I guess I figured that somehow, some way we were going to get into that stadium. Tom Seaver was back, and we weren’t going to get to see it? Unthinkable.

Reality set in and we headed back, climbing the steps to go back across the bridge.

It was then we discovered that we could see a decent chunk of the field through the gap between the scoreboard and the right field stands.

My friends, none who whom were as fanatical as I was, knew how important it was for me to see Seaver, and humored my by sticking it out for a while.

From our vantage point, we could hear the crowd, and the introduction, "Warming up in the bullpen, No. 41...." with everything else famously drowned out by the cheers.

Eventually — and distantly — we could see Tom take the mound.

We close enough to see that there were new racing stripes on the uniforms. And even from that far away, Seaver’s’ motion was unmistakable. It didn’t make up for June 15, 1977, because nothing will. But that sight was special.

The game itself was probably the high point of the season for the Mets, the last year in the cellar before Davey and Doc restored respectability.

It was the final time Seaver and Steve Carlton would duel on Opening Day. And the Phillies — the eventual National League champs — boasted four Hall-of-Famers in their lineup, plus Pete Rose, who, well, you know. The others were Carlton, Joe Morgan and Tony Perez.

Seaver and Carlton matched zeros through the sixth, when Tom was lifted for pinch-hitter Wally Backman. Seaver had given up just three hits, replaced by Doug Sisk who was a couple years away from being renamed Doug "Bleeping" Sisk.

But in the seventh, Dave Kingman — also returning from exile — lead off with a single, followed by George Foster. Then Mike Howard, probably the least-heralded Mets Opening Day right-fielder since the 1960s, drove in the first — and winning — run. Foster scored a second run on a sac fly from Brian Giles, and that was enough for Sisk to close the door and earn the win.

Howard’s hit was the 12th and final of his career — he never played in the big leagues again.

Tom’s Opening Day was his 14th, tying him with Walter Johnson for the record. And as we know, it was his last with the Mets.

As we know, a front office goof allowed the White Sox to claim him — and the Nassau Community College voiced its displeasure on the editorial page.

At least the White Sox allowed him to break the record in 1985 and extend it by one in 1986, Seaver’s last year. The only years he didn’t take the ball on the first game of the year was 1967 — his rookie year — and 1984, when the Sox let Cy Young Award-winner LaMarr Hoyt do the honors.

We also learned why we couldn’t get a ticket: The attendance was 46,687, or almost three-quarters of the total attendance for the previous five opening home games combined.

So among the most important lessons I learned in college was to buy tickets in advance for games I really, really want to attend.

Shea Quest '08: 20 things I must do before bidding farewell

I didn’t see “The Bucket List” because I don’t get to too many movies that don’t involve superheroes or computer-generated talking animals.

But I know it’s about two older guys who decide to do all the crazy things they’ve always wanted to do before they die.

Not my kind of movie, but I’ll steal the idea and provide the list of 20 things I want to do and see at Shea this Saturday, my final trip to the glorious stadium.

1) Buy a program and yearbook immediately after entering the stadium.

2) Meet Mr. Met! The team never had the mascot out there in the 1970s and 1980s when I was able to attend games. After seeing photos of the new and improved Mr. Met – and being subjected to other mascots good and bad in other ballparks – I must have an audience with the ball-headed one.

3) Head to the Clubhouse Shop and find the awesome penny squishing machine for my daughter.
4) Boo Derek F. Jeter when the starting lineups are announced.

5) Eat a ballpark knish. People in the Midwest have absolutely no idea about knishes.

6) Boo Derek F. Jeter when he comes up to bat. Every time. It’s the right thing to do.

7) Somehow get into the picnic area beyond left field. I’ve never been out there, and it’s the closest Shea has to bleachers.

8) Eat a ballpark pretzel – but only if it’s cooked over charcoal. I have no reservations that it will be warmed by the charcoal, but it at least should smell better than the ones spinning on racks under heat lamps.

9) Boo Derek F. Jeter every time he makes a routine play then rolls around in the dirt in a shameless attempt to get on ESPN’s Web Gems.

10) Find that spot in the right field upper deck where Tommie Agee’s epic blast is marked. (Read the comments below to learn that there's a reason I've never found the marker in right field. And that's because it's in left field. Color me embarrassed.)

11) Make my way down to the field level seats deep in left to get as close as possible to the retired numbers for a photo. Then buy a frame when I get home for No. 41.

12) Walk up to a Yankee fan – any fan, it doesn’t matter – and say “Deep down, you know he’s over-rated, right?” That fact that they will know I am talking about Jeter without even saying his name shows that they know the truth.

13) Participate in a “Jose Joooosseee Jose Joooooseeeee” chant.

14) Sneak into the Diamond Club to see the Mets Hall of Fame, pay homage to the Seaver bust.

15) Buy one of those souvenir mini-bats with Mike Piazza on it, find a Yankee fan in a Clemens jersey and pretend to throw it at them, then say, “NOW YOU KNOW HOW MIKEY FELT, PUNK!”

16) Find the one they call “Cow Bell Man.” I hear it’s not wise to engage in conversation with Cow Bell Man or even look him directly in the eyes. But I’m just curious to see what this guy is all about.

17) Walk up to a Yankee fan – any Yankee fan – and say, “So, is this the year he tests positive?” They’ll know who I’m talking about.

18) Refuse to sing along with “Sweet Caroline” when it’s played on the PA. I like the song, but it’s lame to steal a Red Sox tradition.

19) Have my new camera ready on the video setting for when the Mets hit a home run and the glorious apple rises from the top hat in centerfield.

20) After the game ends, I want to stay for a moment and look to the spot in left where Cleon dropped to one knee with the final out in his glove, the mound where Seaver bowed and the place behind first base where Mookie’s dribbler rolled past.

I want to see and the spot midway up the scoreboard where Mo’s blast hit – and the area below it where Robin’s “grand slam single” landed.

I want to look at the foul territory where “Mettle” briefly ran to remember that as bad it is, it’s not as bad as it was.

I want one more look at the outfield wall where Endy leapt and the dirt around second where Pete and Buddy brawled, and the infield grass to speculate when and where Jesse’s glove finally landed and the area near home plate where Say Hey said “Willie, say ‘Good-bye’ to America.”

I want to burn all of these places into my memory, as if to stick them into my backpack with the program and yearbook and camera. Then, finally, I can say, “Good-bye” to Shea.

It's been 17 years, so if there's something that's developed at Shea since then and you think I need to do it, let me know!

Shea Quest '08: How about Seaver, for openers

Shea Memory No. 5: April 8, 1975. Mets 2, Phillies 1

Tom Seaver took the mound on Opening Day 16 times for three teams. And I witnessed the best of those games in 1975.

My grandmother was my baseball buddy, and took me to the first game of the 1975 season, a huge deal because we knew Seaver was pitching. We even asked for seats on the third base side because we thought we’d have a better view of the right-handed hero.

Then, as now, I drag companions to the stadium as the gates first open. After snagging a program, we hurried out to our field level seats and I ran right down to the rail by the Phillies dugout.

And there was the recently traded Tug McGraw, in his powder blue and maroon Phillies road uniform, about to be interviewed by Ron Swoboda, then a sportscaster.

Two Mets heroes!

I remembered that one of Swoboda’s baseball cards said his nickname was “Rocky.” I’d never heard that before, but Topps wouldn’t make stuff up, right?

Mustering up all the courage an 11-year-old unsure of his facts could muster, I broke out a “Hi, Rocky!”

Swoboda looked up, said “Hi,” and went back to whatever he was doing. But I, having experienced a conversation – of sorts – with the player who made the amazing diving catch of the 1969 World Series, was pretty darn thrilled.

But the main business at hand was a stellar match-up of Tom and Steve Carlton, the third year in a row these future first-ballot Hall of Famers would battle on Opening Day.

The Phils took the lead in the third when Bob Boone walked, went to second when Carlton sacrificed and scored on a Dave Cash double.

But the Mets tied it in the fourth when celebrated acquisition Dave Kingman launched his first Met home run.

Seaver and Carlton proceeded to match zeros. Then in the bottom of the ninth, Felix Millan singled and moved to second when John Milner walked. Then, as if called for in the script, the other celebrated off-season acquisition, Joe Torre, singled home Millan for a walk-off win.

Both starters went the distance – Carlton is credited with only eight innings because the Mets scored before making an out in the ninth – which is something you’d never see today.

And both were masterful. Seaver gave up six hits but struck out nine, including future Hall-of-Famer Mike Schmidt three times.

Carlton only gave up four hits and two walks, done in when three of those seven trips to first happened in a row.

Seaver and Carlton would pair up on Opening Day again, in 1981 when Tom was with the Reds. Again, there was a 1-1 tie when each left late in the game, this one ending with a walk-off walk at the hands of the bullpen.

And it's only appropriate that Carlton was on the hill for the Phillies again when Tom made his glorious homecoming on Opening Day 1983.

Check out Seaver’s Opening Day performances:

Yr: IN H ER R BB K HR

1968 8.1 7 4 3 0 3 1 ND

1969 5 6 4 2 3 5 1 ND

1970 8 9 3 3 0 5 0 ND

1971 5 4 2 2 4 4 0 W

1972 6 5 0 0 0 6 0 W

1973 7.2 5 0 0 2 8 0 W

1974 7 7 3 3 0 8 0 ND

1975 9 6 1 1 2 9 0 W

1976 7 5 1 1 1 8 0 W

1977 7 9 3 3 1 7 1 W

1978 3 6 5 5 0 3 3 ND

1979 1.2 6 7 4 1 0 0 L

1981 8 6 1 1 3 4 0 ND

1983 6 3 0 0 1 5 0 ND

1985 6.2 5 2 2 2 3 0 W

1986 5.1 7 5 5 0 3 2 L

There are a couple nice games in there – and one terrible day in 1979 with the Reds – but I still think that 1975 duel with Carlton was the best of the lot. And it’s a Shea memory that will last forever.