The Will To Rock Flushing

I’m always amazed when people write about their childhood memories at Shea because of the details remembered.  While most of my memories are just a blur of good times at a baseball game, others can remember what they wore, specific dates, pitching match ups and probably the starting lineup.  I have one very specific memory of being at (or near) Shea.  It was July 11, 1986.  (I know this because I looked it up!) My uncle took my sister and I to the game.  El Sid was pitching and the Mets were destroying the Braves when we left the stadium.  I know this because I looked at the box score and when we went to games with my uncle we left after the 7th inning stretch to beat the traffic getting out of the parking lot.  I was never happy about this but at 11 years old I wasn’t one to protest.  While walking toward my uncle’s car in the parking lot where CitiField now stands we heard a huge roar from the stadium. 

Omigod...what am I missing??? 

Forget baseball, drown your October sorrows in boobies!  Today kicks off the Annual Blogger Boobie-Thon.  I’m proud to say that I have been a participant and/or donor since it’s inception in 2002*.  Now you should, too!  Go donate some of the cash you saved on post-season tickets.  If you’re feeling frisky slap a Mets temporary tattoo on your rack and send in a photo of it. Boys, too! (Boys especially!)

Note that some of the pages on the Boobie-Thon site are not work friendly.  Be careful clicking around if you don’t want you boss to catch you looking at breasts all day.

*assuming you found the link… yes, I was blonde back then. 

I’ve written a post all day in my head.  Tonight, anything I type here doesn’t seem like enough to sum up the final days of Shea and a season.  Instead I’ll share a photo of my mom taken on our very slow walk out of Shea.  I think it sums up my emotions right now.

(Photo by Jim McIsaac/Getty Images)

if only we could have put them all out on the field tonight… at least on the mound and at the plate. 

Reasons why last night sucked:

• I sat alone in the stadium for the first two innings.
• The top of the first.
• Stitch n’ Pitch denied me a bag of goodies this year.
• On either side of me sat knitters who couldn’t stand up when you tried to walk by them.*
• Mr. know-it-all sitting behind me.
• Cold. Rain. Wind.
• Umbrellas.  I have no problem with people putting their umbrellas up.  I do have a problem when your umbrella is preventing me from seeing home plate.

Reasons why none of that mattered:

• The bottom of the first (maybe this team knows what a sac fly is after all!)
• Free Shea pin thanks to Stitch n’ Pitch.
• The fans.  Particularly the ones who weren’t protected from the rain by an overhang (*cough* me) and those who stuck it out to the end (*cough* me).
• The bottom of the eighth.
• The bottom of the ninth.
• Remembering why I’m a Mets fan.
• Hope.

And I believe that there’s an 80% chance that I’m going to have an ulcer by the end of the weekend.

I had the unfortunate pleasure of being in Shea this evening.  There’s nothing to say.  No words.

However, I have a game plan for the Mets for the next 6 games.  When the starting pitching is done for the night whether it’s the 4th inning or the 8th inning, let’s put an extra guy in the outfield and a tee on home plate.  It couldn’t turn out any worse than the if the bullpen were out there.  Who needs a pitcher anyway?  8| Either that or we put Church on the mound.  Church is almost always on target when he throws the ball.  He’s got heat so why not?  Tell me putting Heilman out there is a better idea.

I expect to see these signs posted around Shea next week.  Not because I’m being pessimistic and think that we’re headed for a downward spiral.  I simply don’t doubt that every game won or lost will be chock full of moments of despair.