Tag Archives: shea stadium

Baseball

My Best Games: I’m Allowed to Go to a Playoff Game?

After writing my kiss-off to the immortal (?) Jeff Kent, I realized that Mr. Kent played a small role in the top three games I ever saw at Shea Stadium. I broached this topic a few times two years ago, though I never got quite as far as I wanted to. And now that Shea is all but rubble, the time has come to pay my last respects.

After dismissing or ignoring baseball for a good chunk of my high school/collegiate career, I got sucked back in by the ridiculously ridonkulous year of 1999. That remains my favorite Met team that I definitively, distinctly remember. 1986 had better results, but I was barely aware of the game at that point. 1969 and 1973 both made the mistake of occurring before I was born. 2006 seemed like magic when it was happening, but has become more and more depressing the more time passes.

1999 was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. It was like a carnival ride that whipped you around in the air a little too hard, and shook a little too much to be safe, and had lots of loose exposed bolts, and was run by a wild-eyed carnie on crank. There are some nights I wake up and I still can’t believe that it all ended on a bases loaded walk. And yet, I can totally believe it. How else could that year end–in a fair and probable manner? Pshaw!

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Baseball

We Can’t Have Nice Things, Can We?

I know Satchel Paige said don’t look back, but for days it was all I could do. I was obsessed with the signs of doom for the Mets that I chose to ignore. Not on the field. I wish I could have ignored those, but I would’ve needed to gouge out my eyes and get a lobotomy. I mean signs from my life.

Because going into the last game at Shea Stadium, I was sure that the Mets would pull out a win and at the very least force a one-game play-in game against the Brewers. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind this would happen after Johan Santana’s unbelievable performance against the Marlins on Saturday–a three-hit complete game shutout on three days’ rest after throwing more pitches than he’d ever thrown in his professional career while secretly suffering from a TORN FUCKING MENISCUS.

But now I look back and see the little signposts thrown my way, and I realize the Mets were doomed.

* * *

On Saturday, I stood on the 7 train platform, shuffling nervously, wondering how Santana would respond to the pressure and the fatigue. At least they’re playing the Marlins, I thought. Not because the Marlins were a cupcake team, but because the Marlins always ensured a more pleasant stadium-going experience.

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Baseball

My Best Games: The First One

Loving a sports team is like being in a bad relationship. Your own happiness takes a backseat to whatever The Team feels like doing. They’ll do things that they know will piss you off, simply because these things will piss you off or, even worse, because they haven’t the slightest idea of what will piss you off. They’ll put zero effort into your interactions, because they’re so confident that no matter what kind of evil, thoughtless garbage they pull, you’ll never even think of leaving them. Nobody deserves abuse, but if you’re free to walk out that door and you don’t, there’s gotta be a part of you that wants the pain.

The Mets’ current listless play is certainly not the worst I’ve ever witnessed. It is, however, as disgusting an imitation of baseball as I’ve ever seen from a team that’s supposed to be good at the game. It’s one thing to lose a lot of games in a short period of time. It’s another thing entirely to lose them because you’re putting as much passion and effort in the endeavor as you would put into washing your socks.

In a bad relationship, you will justify shitty behavior by remembering the good times. He’s not all that bad, you tell yourself. Remember the time he drove my mom to the doctor and only held it over my head fifteen times later?

So as I try to rationalize my love of a team that has suddenly become unwatchable, I will now remember games I’ve attended in the past. This, I hope, will help me forge anew the chains that bind me to a team that is currently doing very little to earn my fealty. I’ll start from the very beginning.

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