I’ve been home and with internet access since Saturday, but I’ve been missing from the blogosphere for quite some time. I came home and saw that the White Sox had suffered an agonizing sweep at the hands of the Yankees, and was all ready to write a post lamenting the end of all playoff hopes. Then, whaddya know, they went on a handy five-game win streak. But in between, Ozzie made some snide comments, and the six-man rotation came back, and I was just tired of the White Sox rollercoaster. They were too crazy, too much. I didn’t have anything to say.
So, as I was temporarily distancing myself from baseball, today came along, which was the day of the Mets-Padres game that my dad and I had planned on going to. We drove down there, and my dad talked about how he was excited to finally see Citi Field. I groaned about how I knew none of the Padres and hardly any of the Mets (especially now that Jose Reyes has gone on the DL).
But as my dad has said, Can you really have a bad day at a ballgame? Yeah, he’s right, you can not. Citi Field is an absolutely amazing stadium, very reminiscent of San Francisco’s AT&T Park, in my opinion. We entered through the Jackie Robinson Rotunda, a huge space dedicating to honoring the man who did so much for baseball. Quotes and pictures were scattered around the pavilion, and at the entrance to the field concourse was a giant #42.
From the rotunda, we entered the Mets’ Hall of Fame and “Museum”, which I personally think is slightly more impressive than the Yankees’ “Museum” (though I still maintain that both are just large rooms with memorabilia in them). Inside was the original Mr. Met, circa 1962. I thought the current Mr. Met was scary, but the 1962 one was even creepier. Apparently, in 1962, the mascot’s human hands were exposed, and the fine folks at Citi Field decided to, um, recreate them for this display.
(Note: Apparently, this picture is “corrupt” and will not upload. Haha. Mr. Met’s hands scared even my computer.)
After being traumatized by Mr. Met, we checked out our seats along the leftfield line. Pretty snazzy.
The game was about to start in a few minutes, so I headed down to the railing to watch some of the Padres players toss a few balls before first pitch. I didn’t know many of the players I was snapping pictures of, but it’s always cool to be that close to big leaguers.
But of course, we can’t begin a game without a little rookie hazing. Check out the backpacks sported by the Pads pitchers on their way to the bullpen.
Alright, now we can start the game. Around the fifth inning, with the Mets up 2-0, I decided to check out the team store and buy myself an obscure bobblehead to add to my collection. I was all set to get one of Daniel Murphy when look what I found…
Yes, ladies and gents, a K-Rod bobblehead! Turns out it was only 5 bucks. The cashier couldn’t get over that price. I, of course, had to have it. I also considered buying this plush pizza, but then realized that that was the stupidest thing I have ever seen in a team store. Just because it has the Mets logo on it doesn’t make it a good souvenir.
By the time I returned back to my seat, with my $5 bobblehead in tow, the Mets were down 3-2, and that’s how the score stayed. Oh well. Maybe because I wasn’t emotionally invested in the result, I really enjoyed watching the game. Nothing like a day at the park to remind me that win or lose, baseball should always be about one thing: fun.
(And plush pizzas, of course. They also sold plush pretzels wearing Mets hats, if that’s what you prefer.)