I'VE BEEN TO YANKEE STADIUM, TOO

I've spent so much time this year reminiscing about my visits to Shea that it wouldn't be fair for me to not touch on Yankee Stadium. I've spent nowhere near as much time at Yankee Stadium as I have at Shea, but I lived 10 minutes from Shea - that made all the difference.

I wish I had been to the old, old Yankee Stadium...any old ballpark, really. I like the idea of an expansive outfield that actually had monuments and flag poles in play. I'm in the camp of those who aren't too sad to see Yankee Stadium go, because it really went when it was renovated in the mid-1970's.

A couple of visits to Yankee Stadium stand out - I went to a Yankees-White Sox game in 1996, the day I got my driver's license, which got rained out in the 7th inning, tied at 1. My uncle, who I went with, drove me home, and then his car stalled out in a flooded road in Flushing. In 1997 I went to one of the first Mets-Yankees interleague games, sitting in the bleachers for a near no-hitter by David Cone. But the ONE stand-out memory of visiting Yankee Stadium is even less pleasant than those:

The Wife, back before she was The Wife (even before she was The Fiancee), thought it would be nice to bring both of our families together for a Yankees game. So she bought a bunch of tickets to see the Yankees and Red Sox at Yankee Stadium. Seats in the upper deck. Had I known she was making this purchase, I would have suggested she either A) not get upper deck seats, or B) not get tickets to a Red Sox-Yankees game. But she did, so on July 20, 2002, we went.

I'll keep this relatively short - it was a hot, hot July day, and this was a typical Yankees-Red Sox game. In other words, it took forever. So people had lots of beer, in the hot sun, and sat out there for a while. That led to a woman sitting in front of us throwing a peanut at the head of a Red Sox fan a few rows down.

He swung around, and immediately locked eyes with the Yankee fan who had been razzing him all day about five rows behind us. He goes up there, they get in each other's face, and then there's a full-out brawl. Punches are thrown, and less than 5 seconds into the fight, they're tumbling down the rows of the upper deck. Naturally, they come to rest right in our laps. Literally. A friend of The Wife's got pushed down two rows. The brawlers tumbled over the head of my future mother-in-law. I actually ended up in the middle of the two antagonists, pulling on one's shirt to make him stop punching. It was the most awful thing I've ever been near at a ballpark.

Great credit goes to the cops, especially the short, red-haired female cop, who were on the scene pretty quickly to break things up.

This fight overshadowed the exciting ending to the game, where the Sox took the lead in the 9th, but the Yankees came back to win in the bottom half. And the overall experience - we met in Manhattan and ferried to the Stadium - something I had never done before. (On the way back, though, the water level was too high for the ferry - we all had to stand in the front of the boat to get it to duck under an overpass. That was pretty ridiculous.)

I haven't been back to Yankee Stadium since. No desire to, really. One day I'll check out the new Yankee Stadium. But I'll make sure we have better seats. And it won't be a Red Sox game.

SHEA MEMORIES: BIG GAMES

The fifth in an occasional (OK, you caught me, weekly) series. I'm not going to sit here and try to defend Shea Stadium as one of the best ballparks of all time. I can honestly tell you, though, that I never walked into Shea and thought, "This place is a dump." The bottom line is, Shea is where the Mets play, and for me, it will always be special. I realize these are pretty individual memories, but I hope reading them stirs up something in your mind about some place that you may take for granted.

I've been thinking a lot about the big games I've attended at Shea through the history we have shared (me and Shea, that is). I mentioned last time the playoff games I attended. I've also written about one of the most exciting games I saw there, which came in the midst of a terrible season - the game where Anthony Young broke his losing streak. But I won't write about that again.

Instead, I'll tell you the story of what might as well have been a playoff game, since it was a do-or-die situation. It had everything - last-minute drama, everything was on the line - and it may in fact have been the biggest game I ever attended at Shea Stadium.

It was October 3, 1999 - a Sunday. Last game of the regular season, against the Pirates. This was after my college graduation, a month before I was regularly employed. Actually, at the time I was flat-out unemployed. And I was in New York to attend a wedding on October 2nd. I remember specifically that I planned only to be down for the weekend, so I only packed a suit for the wedding, and my jeans and gray t-shirt for travelling back on Sunday.

Well, when things shook out on Saturday the way they did, the Mets could face a win-and-get-in the playoffs situation on Sunday. So at the wedding, a couple of friends and I decided to pull some strings we had and go to the game on Sunday. I'm fuzzy on who I was with - I'm pretty sure there was a group of 3 or 4.


We had great seats - behind the plate, about ten rows up. I was on TV throughout the game, right behind the batter from the center-field camera.

The game itself did not match the excitement level (or the intensity) it deserved, considering the situation. The Mets played the Pirates, and the game went to the 9th inning tied at 1. (Ironically, future Met Kris Benson pitched for Pittsburgh that day.) In the bottom of the ninth, the Mets got back-to-back singles with one out, and with runners on the corners, the Pirates intentionally walked John Olerud to face Mike Piazza with the bases loaded.

Of course, we couldn't believe it - that's exactly who we'd want at the plate in that situation. The place was going nuts. So what happens - the pitcher throws a wild pitch, Melvin Mora scores, and the Mets win. Pretty anticlimactic...and, it turned out, the Mets would have to play the Reds the next day in a one-game playoff to decide the wild card (Al Leiter threw a two-hitter in Cincinnati), and I forget if we knew that at the time, but it was still a wild celebration at Shea, since we knew the Mets had kept their season alive.

A personal note: This was the game where while waiting for our tickets at the Will Call window, some older woman kept making passes at me. Turned out, she was Richie Hebner's wife - he was a coach with the Pirates at the time, and spent one season with the Mets as a player in the 1970's.

More importantly, though, that gray t-shirt and jeans turned out to be very lucky. I ended up staying in New York almost the whole week - I watched the Mets beat the Reds on Monday night at my parents', and then went to a Rangers game with my dad later that week - still wearing my gray shirt and jeans. Then the gray shirt and jeans were lucky for the Mets' win over the Diamondbacks in the first round of the playoffs, and it's what I was wearing when Robin Ventura hit his walk-off grand slam/double while I was interning at Channel 7 here in Boston. (OK, not really interning, since I had already graduated and basically just hung out and logged games...That was a great day though - I was watching the Mets in extra extra innings, and the U.S.'s dramatic Ryder Cup win all at the same time.)

The lucky outfit, which began its string of good luck on that Sunday afternoon at Shea, finally ran out of luck a few weeks later. I hate to end this story on such a down note, but the moment involved Kenny Rogers and Andruw Jones.

SHEA MEMORIES: BIG EVENTS

The fourth in an occasional (OK, you caught me, weekly) series. I'm not going to sit here and try to defend Shea Stadium as one of the best ballparks of all time. I can honestly tell you, though, that I never walked into Shea and thought, "This place is a dump." The bottom line is, Shea is where the Mets play, and for me, it will always be special. I realize these are pretty individual memories, but I hope reading them stirs up something in your mind about some place that you may take for granted.

Got to talking to my friends last weekend about the biggest games they ever attended. Among the answers: Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS (Aaron Boone), Derek Lowe's no-hitter for the Red Sox, a 2004 World Series game, Game 6 of the 1986 World Series (though the 8-year-old Southern Bureau left that one early), and Game 6 of the 1996 World Series (the clincher for the Yankees...and how about those two Game 6's a decade apart for the Southern Bureau?). The interesting thing about all of those examples is that the team you would have wanted to see win in each of those scenarios won the game.

My experience with big games is not as exciting. Sure, I've been to playoff games. And I've never seen the Mets lose a playoff game - I've been to two and they were both wins. Game 3 in 1988 was an 8-4 Mets win and Game 4 in 2000 was a 10-6 win, notable because Armando Benitez closed out the game without blowing it.

I only remember three things about the 1988 game, when I was 10 - 1) It was supposed to be on a Friday night, after which my dad and I would drive up to see my cousins for a weekend in Vermont, but the game got rained out and was played on Saturday instead, putting a damper on the weekend. 2) I forgot my glasses at school that weekend, so I didn't see the game very well. My dad was mad about that. And 3) I remember Keith Hernandez taking a digger running from second to third base. I guess it wasn't very costly, so that's good.

But that's the extent of my big-game experience at Shea Stadium. Big games, sure, but not really eventful ones. Of course, being a Mets fan, I've never been to a no-hitter at Shea. The big games I remember at Shea are for events that don't even come close to playoff games in terms of importance, but for some reason they stick out in my memory even more. Here's one example:

I was at the game where Spider Man married Mary Jane. The sports angle here is that this was the game where Lenny Dykstra and Mookie Wilson both dived (dove?) for a ball in the left-center gap, and collided. One's mouth hit the other's nose...neither was seriously injured, but it was pretty bloody...and pretty cool for a 9-year-old.

So was the "wedding". It took place before the game, with live-action characters. Spider-Man got married in his costume, and for some reason Doctor Octopus was there. Not sure I would have invited my mortal enemy to my wedding (as a matter of fact, I didn't), but to each his own. And the kids in attendance got the commemmorative comic, seen at left. I must have that somewhere - I bet it's worth keeping.

As the season winds down, I'll chronicle my other 'big games' at Shea. They don't quite match up in my mind with what my friends have seen...but when you deal with the Mets everything is relative.

SHEA MEMORIES: MY FOUL BALL

The third in an occasional (OK, you caught me, weekly) series. I'm not going to sit here and try to defend Shea Stadium as one of the best ballparks of all time. I can honestly tell you, though, that I never walked into Shea and thought, "This place is a dump." The bottom line is, Shea is where the Mets play, and for me, it will always be special. I realize these are pretty individual memories, but I hope reading them stirs up something in your mind about some place that you may take for granted.

I've done some research and concluded the date must have been Tuesday, May 13, 1997. (The attendance that day according to the box score I found was 13,997. Think that's accurate, or someone was just having fun with numbers?)

The low attendance number also helps explain why my dad and I were able to get walk-up tickets, and sit about twenty rows from the field in the orange seats (field level), a little bit behind first base.

I was able to identify the game because of one notable thing that happened - Armando Reynoso started the game for the Mets...and he also hit a home run. I remember that very well.

What I didn't remember was that future Mets NLCS hero Mike Hampton started the game for Houston. He pitched well in that game, according to the box score (except for the homer to the opposing pitcher). We also saw John Franco notch his 11th save of the season, in a Mets 4-3 win.

But the reason this game stands out is not something you can find in the box score. And it happened during the first at-bat of the game.

Like I said, my dad and I bought tickets the day of the game. I had just come home from college, and we decided to catch the Mets...and we decided to get good seats. So there we were, 15 rows from the field, when Craig Biggio stepped in to lead off the game.

He fouled a pitch off, and it headed our way. I had been close to foul balls before, but this one looked really close. My heart started to beat faster. I put my arms up, and it was more than just the obligatory reach-out - this one I had a legitimate shot at getting.

It was a pop-up type of foul ball. So when it started its descent, it was weird - it was getting bigger and bigger, like it was coming straight down towards me. So my hands went straight up, with a crowd of other hands. And then I felt it right in my palm - stinging - and then it was gone. I missed it, I think because I was tippy-toeing trying to outreach everyone else and I wasn't focused on catching the ball.

I turned to look at my dad, disappointed. And there he was, holding the ball.

"Wow, Dad!" I said. "18 years, and I finally got a foul ball!"

"I don't think so," he said. "48 years, and I finally got one."

He still has it. And I'm glad my only foul ball opportunity happened at Shea. Hopefully I'll get another at Citi Field. Or my dad will.

SHEA MEMORIES: OPENING DAYS

The second in an occasional series. I'm not going to sit here and try to defend Shea Stadium as one of the best ballparks of all time. I can honestly tell you, though, that I never walked into Shea and thought, "This place is a dump." The bottom line is, Shea is where the Mets play, and for me, it will always be special. I realize these are pretty individual memories, but I hope reading them stirs up something in your mind about some place that you may take for granted.

My first ever trip to Shea Stadium is one I don't remember. My dad says we had great seats, and he took me as a baby to see the Mets, along with both of my grandfathers. I think that's pretty cool - even though both have long since passed away, I take pride in knowing they were at the first game I ever went to. (The games I attended with my paternal grandfather were some of my favorite memories - he would always go to the Senior Citizen's Days - I thought of him last Thursday, at one of those summer afternoon games, which he would have attended, when I took my daughter to her first game at Shea.)

I bring this up because the one constant in my early attendance at Shea was my dad. Even when I was in my teenage years, I rarely went to games without him. And whenever I attended an Opening Day, I went with my dad.

There's always something special about Opening Day. There's usually a ceremony, there's always the hope that "This could be the year", and even though the weather in New York wasn't always great, there was always the sense that spring was in the air.

I've written before about my favorite Opening Days - click here to read about them and to read the story about my dad lying to a nun.

But one in particular stands out right now, because of the series the Mets played at Shea just before the All Star break. The Colorado Rockies made their last visit to Shea Stadium, and the Mets unceremoniously swept them away. It dawned on me that after Sunday night's game, the Rockies had played their last game at the building where they played their first.

I was at that Opening Day - and the one thing that stands out in my memory was that they sold out of programs. I sent away for one (at left), and I guess anyone could have, but I also got this letter of apology, which proves I was there (at right). (I also remember that when the Marlins made their first visit a month later, there were plenty of programs.)

But that expansion was a big deal to me. I remember taping the expansion draft, watching intently as these players I had never heard of were taken by the two new teams.

And I was deathly afraid the Mets would lose to this brand-new team. They didn't, though they also didn't crush them like I hoped they would. The Mets swept the 2-game series, 3-0 and 6-1. So there's a bit of symmetry - a Mets sweep to start and end Colorado's time at Shea. Dwight Gooden pitched a complete game shutout that Opening Day - one of his last good starts at Shea. And for this Opening Day, the weather was nice - a very sunny Opening Day.

I don't know how many Rockies fans could tell you who started the first-ever game for Colorado, or how many know the result - but I do (David Nied was the starter). And 20 years from now, when the AFLAC Trivia Question asking "Where was the Colorado Rockies' first-ever game?" shows up, hopefully I'll be watching, and this memory of Shea Stadium will come back to me.

SHEA MEMORIES: AN INTRODUCTION

The first in an occasional series.

I'm not going to sit here and defend Shea Stadium as one of the best ballparks of all time. Deep down inside, my dream of visiting all the different ballparks probably came about when I was younger because in my subconscious I might have been thinking, "There has to be something better out there."

But the bottom line is, Shea is where the Mets play, and for me, it will always be special. That's why I was psyched when The Wife mentioned going to Thursday afternoon's game. I realized that I won't have many more opportunities to visit Shea this year (this will in all likelihood be my last visit for a game - Billy Joel won't be the same - unless somehow the Mets can swing the playoffs and I can swing getting down there for them), and this is probably the only time The Wife and The Baby will be there. And with her pushing eight months pregnant (The Wife, not The Baby), I wasn't going to push it - so it being her decision, I'm loving it.

The suggestion for Thursday, though, made me think about my favorite memories of Shea. And I'm only considering events I attended, so I'm not going to talk about things like 1969, 1986, or anything involving the Jets. I'll do this once a week or so (maybe more) to share with you why this cookie-cutter ballpark will always be one of my favorites, right up there with the current jewels in Houston and San Diego.

My first memory (these are in no order) doesn't refer to a specific game, but moreso the times I spent at Shea when I was younger.

We lived very close to Shea, and through work, my dad had on-and-off again season ticket packages. So we went to a lot of games when I was younger - I'd say roughly 10 a season. Maybe more...some years less. Bottom line - I spent a lot of time at Shea, and often it was with my brother or sister. (Once a year we took about five of my friends in July for my birthday party.) And there was a period of time where my entire family (aunts, uncles, 10 cousins all together) went to either a Mets or Yankees game. Those were great.

I was into the games...often, my brother or sister (or both) weren't. Certain patterns developed over the years, and I see them as I thumb through old scorebooks (I always kept score - for a rough estimate of how many Shea games I went to, between 1986 and 1996, when I went away to college, I amassed 60 scorebooks. I kept score less as I got older, so I think it's still an accurate estimate of how many Mets games I went to per season.).

Anyway, back to the patterns - here's a look at a sample from 1991 - turns out this scorebook is from a Dodgers-Mets game, and you'll notice Hall of Famer Gary Carter, as well as Darryl Strawberry, are playing for the visiting Dodgers. I vaguely remember this game, but only after I pulled out the scorebook. (It also brings back painful memories of an early indication that Gary Carter talked too much - I think this was the series where Keith Miller made a costly error for the Mets that allowed the Dodgers to win the game, and Carter gave him a classless "Thanks, buddy" or something like that, then made a public show of apologizing. Actually, that might have happened in Los Angeles, because I seem to remember Carter boarding a Mets bus to apologize. But that's another story for another day.)

If you care enough to look closely (for some reason it's not clicking-and-enlarging), you'll notice a couple of things. First of all, there is an elephant at the bottom - for some reason I took to drawing elephants and monkeys (no monkey on this day) in between innings to keep my sister entertained.

In addition to flawless scorekeeping, you'll also notice on the left-hand side, below the Dodgers roster, a tally. This was something my sister invented while with my cousins at one of those games where everyone went - due to Shea's proximity to LaGuardia, there were a lot of planes that crossed overhead throughout a game. So I allowed her to keep a "Plane Tally" on my scorecard - a big sacrifice on my part. I have to believe there were more than 10 planes during this game - but maybe, ironically, the baseball game diverted her attention from the plane game.

I realize these are pretty individual memories, but I hope reading them stirs up something in your mind about some place that you may take for granted. Because the more I think about it, the more I realize that Shea Stadium played a significant part in my life...and while I'm looking forward to Citi Field, I'm going to enjoy looking back on my experiences at Shea.