Monday, September 29, 2008

Good night.




























































That's it. Tough being a Met fan. Today sort of feels like I just buried a friend. An old friend. There's pain involved. Rage ensues only after remembering how they lost yesterday, again, to the same team on the last day, again. O the pain.

But Shea deserves better. Maybe it was a dump to everyone else outside of NY but to us it was our dump. Layers of concrete, steel and wood. Saw two championships. Forget everything else. I would be lying to you if I say I cared the Jets played here. Or that the Beatles played this stadium. My memories are things like my first baseball game. I was nine. August 19th, 1989.

My dad worked overtime that week and surprised me with the tickets. It was a Thursday day night and happend to be his birthday. I begged for him to let me stay home from school the next day. Hard ass always said no to those types of requests. Bobby Ojeda was that day's starter, the Dodgers were in town and we hated the Dodgers that paticular year because of what they did to us in the playoffs the year prior. 88' was supposed to be our year.

Our seats were in the Loge section. A luxury considering our income. The first time I saw all that grass I just froze. It smelled wonderful. I had my glove on, never took it off. Heads up dad said. We might get one tonight. I had my Mets starter cap on, with my Darryl Strawberry pin on it. Dad smuggled in some food but when I begged for some ice cream he gave in. $2.50 later I had a carvel sundae inside a plastic mets helmet. Magadan went 3-3. Ojeda went 7 strong. Darryl laced a double. Meyers with the save. I remember looking out the window as we merged onto the Grand Central Parkway, to the right, and seeing the neon lights of shea blare. I said to myself before I nodded off to sleep that I would come back here, to this baseball chapel, as much as I possibly could when I grew up. And I did.

Some memories:

Every Darryl Strawberry home run. Sweetest swing I've ever seen in person. Skinny, tall, fluid. He was my favorite met.

Every Doc Gooden start. The guy was out of this world electric.

Kevin McReynolds grand slam vs the Pirates in late September. Specifically because dad called it.

Playing catch with Roger McDowell from the Loge section overhang near the bullpen.

The post 9/11 first game back Piazza go ahead blast to center.

Seeing Ricky Henderson in person. Steal a base.

Kevin Mitchell's seemingly 500 foot shot that bounced to the parking lot.

Watching Darryl hit BP, constantly hitting the scoreboard with ease.

Ron Darling autographing my baseball, hat and glove.

David Cone autographing a baseball and program.

the 14 inning game

those silly ramps

Home Run Apple

chicken fingers with those spicy waffle fries

Walking right by Ralph Kiner.

Sneaking into field level.

the John Rocker game.

Game 6, NLCS 2006.

Subway Series.

Maturation of David Wright, Jose Reyes.

I could go on forever so I'll stop here. Goodbye old friend. I will miss you.
*single tear rolling down cheek*

7 comments:

Keef said...

Damn, I can't even muster a smart as. comment after that.

El Padrino said...

it hurts keef, it hurts deep

The Rev said...

You made me a little sad.

Made me think about the Vet.

Los said...

The Vet was a dump too ... but, I had formed a close bond with it ... I feel for ya, man.

Anonymous said...

I don't give a rats ass about Shea. County Stadium was the better.

iamunstoppable said...

beautiful, mayne.

Anonymous said...

Shhiiiittt. Like a lil bitch...