Queens

On Doing the Work

Not Shea Stadium, 2022

Sunday July 10, 2022
Miami Marlins vs. New York Metropolitans
Not Shea Stadium
MLB National League
Queens, NY
1:40 PM

Outside the Game:
I had a weird corporate four-day weekend that would have been more welcome under the circumstances if they had told us they were giving us a four-day a weekend more than a month in advance. As a schedule guy, it also screwed up a ton of schedules having two missed work days in there, but hey, free four-day weekend in July right after one for the Fourth. Sadly, I spent most of it dealing with real-world things, but I knew I was going to catch a game of the Metropolitan homestand somewhere in there. Saturday was the retiring of Keith Hernandez's number, as well as a bobblehead giveaway, so that game was sold out; I decided to go for the more sedate Sunday afternoon game, being sure to get tickets in the shade.

The third day into a three-day weekend I was pretty slow getting up, but I had gone to bed early enough that I was out of the house by nine-ish. But I clearly wasn't fully awake, as I remembered several blocks into Hoboken that I had forgotten my camera, so instead of going back, I decided to try out a game just with my camera phone. I took a leisurely walk the rest of the way to the Hoboken PATH station, grabbing a convenient train to 33rd, then up to the 7 and over. I didn't have too long to wait for any trains--a blessing on a lazy Sunday when mass transit can seem similarly sluggish--so I counted my blessings at this point. The 7 train was sparsely filled with eager-beaver Metropolitans fans such as myself, and we were disgorged in Queens with over an hour and half before gates.

I took my time walking around. I visited that odd little park that the Mets had installed next to the subway station; tried to figure out an angle to get a photo of the stadium, Seaver, and the original apple; and even took a trip out to the Shea infield in the parking lot. After walking a bit, I settled on the right field entrance again, with its welcome shade and short line. The gates opened, and in I went.

After being shooed out of the stadium by staff just looking to close up after the end of the homestand, I meandered back to the subway in time to sit on the 7 Express for a while before heading back. Two quick connections had me back in Hoboken, but I decided for a Lyft back home, where I sorted out my purchases and fixed the game bag before settling in for a long, dark Sunday evening.

The Stadium & Fans:

Center to home, Not Shea Stadium

The crowd at the game this day was a curious kind of exhale after the previous day, where Keith Hernandez had his number retired amidst a sold-out audience craving the ceremonial bobble-head given away in its honor. The crowd was big, but not over-eager or clawing at the doors, and it was a reasonably laid-back Sunday afternoon with no particular expectations.

The stadium had not changed much since the visit earlier in the year, with the exception of the removal of the protective fence around the Seaver statue. There was a sizeable crowd in place, but nothing extraordinary, and the between-inning events were nearly the same.

At the Game with Oogie:

Scoring away

As I was one of the first in the park through the right field gate, my beeline to the Shake Shack resulted in me being served the first order of the day, which was wolfed down in a shaded table in center field. My regular process followed, with a trip to the team store and museum, and then more ramblings around the park. I was hungry at this game wedged between lunch and dinner and managed to eat some pizza and an order of rice balls before the affair was complete.

I was smartly seated in the shade of the bronze club level of whatever sponsor has the naming rights this year, just shy of third base, even though it has been nearly a decade since David Wright has departed. It was pretty packed in that day. There was a family to my left, some younger folks in front, and an older couple next to me. For all our close quarters, there wasn't much discussion until towards the end of the game where the father next to me and I were both bemoaning the sate of play and trying to identify what exactly was happening in the late innings.

The Game:

First pitch, Marlins vs. Metropolitans

The first-place Metropolitans were squaring off against the lowly Marlins this Sunday, but the Marlin's Cy-Young-Candidate ace was on the mound in the last game of a four-game set, facing off against Walker for the good guys, so it was going to be quite the pitcher's duel. There were high hopes, but no offense.

The Marlins managed just a one-out single in the first, erased on a double-play, while New York went in order. Miami then went in order in the second and third, while the Metropolitans went in order in the second and had their own one-out single erased on a double-play in the bottom of the third. Both pitchers had given up one hit and faced the minimum at this point.

Both teams saw some life in the fourth. The Marlins started the inning with a hit batsman and a single, but a double-play and groundout ended the threat. New York staggered two singles with nothing to show for it in their half of the inning. Miami went in order in the fifth, with the Metropolitans stranding a single. The Marlins again went in order in the sixth, but New York had a leadoff error and walk erased on a double play and a fly out to no avail.

Miami had a leadoff single and a walk in the seventh, but stranded them on three straight outs. The Metropolitans had two, two-out singles stranded in their own half. The Marlins went in order in the eighth, and New York stranded another lone single. We limped out of regular baseball with Miami going in order, and the Mets stranding a reached-on-error.

Extra baseball went quickly. The Marlin's ghost runner stole third and scored on a wild throw. Three more singles followed between outs to plate the first runs of the game at 2-0, Marlins. New York's offense continued to sputter. The ghost runner made it to third on a fly out, but died on the vine despite a walk getting the tying runner on base. The Marlins won, 2-0.

The Scorecard:

Miami Marlins vs. New York Metropolitans, 07/10/22. Marlins win, 2-0.

I used the scorecard in the Mets program. There were no changes from the one earlier this year, so no need to go into the details.

For most of the first nine innings, there was nothing of note, for the most part. Both pitchers were throwing a gem, and both had faced the minimum through three. In the top of the fourth, Lindor made a great diving stab that started a double-play that was worth a gem (!). In the bottom of the fourth, there was a collision between the Marlin's left fielder and shortstop that resulted in the shortstop being removed from the game the next inning.

Then we get to extras. The damnable "ghost runner" starts on second, so I used a dotted line to get them there with an "EI." The Marlins put in a pinch runner for their ghost runner, just to make it even more ridiculous (he stayed in an played left). He stole third, and the catcher threw it into left for an error to score the game's first run. The jiggering into the bottom of the tenth had a new pitcher coming in and batting for himself, though he never got up. Alonzo stopped being DH and played first in the tenth, while the previous first base slot became the pitcher. This apparently is becoming common now, and I just hate everything about it.

The Accommodations:
Home, sweet Jersey City

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

Stand-Alone Trip

Queens

On Yin and Yang

Not Shea Stadium, 2022

Saturday, April 16, 2022
Arizona Diamondbacks vs. New York Metropolitans
Not Shea Stadium
MLB National League
Queens, NY
7:10 PM 

Outside the Game:

I had a fitful sleep the night before, struggling mightily against my alarm that morning. I had my clothes all laid out for days--I was trying out the Jomboy Media Shea Station blitzball jersey for luck appraisal--but even with the prep work, I eventually left a lot later than I expected, taking a Lyft to get to the subway at around 9:30 AM. I hit a string of good luck, quickly getting a PATH train to 33rd Street, and an orange up to the 7, although I just missed an outbound 7 going to Queens. Even this early, several Mets fans were shifting around half-awake, awaiting the next train that pulled up in due time and had us heading Queensward in the Saturday morning.

I was dumped out about a half-hour before the gates were to open. I, of course, immediately went to the new Tom Seaver statue, dominating the plaza outside the home plate entrance. I'm not saying that the remarkable performance of the Metropolitan starting pitching so far this year is due to finally giving Seaver his due, but I am not saying it isn't. The statue is everything that it should be, and it is defines the stark contrast of having an owner who is a fan of the team and owners that were fans of a team that jilted the city a half-century ago.

The give-away was a replica of the aforementioned statue, so it was going to be a big crowd. Walking around to the various entrances, I found that the right-field entrance had a line of just a several dozen people, while also having the virtue of being close to Shake Shack. I parked up there with about twenty minutes to go and then amused myself on my phone until the gates opened up and I got my precious trinket.

The way out was more sedate, but I took another look at the statue before heading onto the trains back to Manhattan. A couple of quick transfers got me back to Hoboken, where it fell apart. Lyft had few drivers running, and not wanting to give those bastard Hoboken taxi drivers another penny of my money, I just decided to hoof it back to my apartment, calling my mother to pass the time. And thus a mostly disappointing day ended.

The Stadium & Fans:

Center to home, Not Shea Stadium

So, the obvious big change was the statue out in front, which we covered. I'll talk about some concession changes below, but there were other little cosmetic differences around the park. The M&Ms were removed (due to some expiring partnership, I imagine), a "Hit It Here" sign for the lottery appeared in right field, and a Home Run Apple home run counter (which did get to tick over during the game) showed up in left field. The home lineup at the top of the Jackie Robinson rotunda changed from replica baseball cards (which I really liked) to a digital display (which I guess was okay). A lot of smaller digital displays found there way around the park, and they were coordinated for things like home player introductions, or--in a much more Orwellian fashion--during advertisements. At one point, a DraftKings promo urged people on every screen in the park to place a bet during the game, which no doubt had Shoeless Joe Jackson spinning in his grave enough to potentially affect the rotation of the planet.

The crowd was big and boisterous, but it had little to cheer for until the late innings, when they got loud if out of boredom of something to do. Mr. and (regrettably) Mrs. Met were on hand for most of it, doing their pre-game shenanigans and then shooting t-shirts into the crowd and leading sing-alongs. Not a ton had changed there.

At the Game with Oogie:

Home Run Apple Ice Cream

With social distancing rules but a memory, the stadium was completely packed in this second home game of the year and the first weekend game after the unveiling of the Seaver statue, even though it was the day before Easter and deep in the heart of Passover. I gained entry early enough that crowds weren't too much of an issue. I immediately made my way back to Shake Shack, which had over the last year completely colonized the center-field concession spot it had shared until recently with Blue Smoke. I was able to walk right up to the counter and have my order nearly immediately, and claimed a small circular table to have my repast, while taking my new Seaver statue replica into my observation.

Thus filled, I made my way back to the front of the park to make my pilgrimage to the museum. It had a new exhibit on the 60th anniversary on the Metropolitans, and then I made the small lateral move to the store, which had been reorganized in the offseason. I made a bunch of ill-considered purchases, and then found that the line for the registers actually snaked back into the museum. Despite the length of the line, it moved swiftly and efficiently, and I was out into the rotunda in under five minutes.

I took a trip up to the club level. Signs for the long-forgotten "Ceasar's Club" were still in the stairwells, but it was now the True Premium Vodka Lounge, sponsored--for some incomprehensible reason--by Mike Piazza, complete with prominent Italian flag. Because when I think of vodka, I think of Italy. I continued my walk around the park, eventually seeing Mr. and Mrs. Met in the back of center field and then retreated back to the lounge an hour or so before the game. I purchased the new Home Run Apple ice cream and a souvenir soda and settled into my seat behind third base.

The area was packed. A young Asian couple was immediately to my left, where the woman was clearly the baseball fan and the boyfriend spent most of the game texting his friends and making car stereo purchases on his phone. A pair of Indian friends were to my right, making frequent long trips for beers while bravely leaving their Seaver statue replicas unguarded under their seats. Families were in front and behind me, a pair of fraternal twins scoring in front of me, and a young girl and her brother warred for most of the game behind me with no Metropolitans offense to distract them.

The Game:

First pitch, Diamondbacks vs. Metropolitans

The Metropolitans were looking good so far this year, but their losses had all contained around three things: poor defense, a pause in the offense, and the implosion of the at-best shaky bullpen. All three were on display today in this game against the Diamondbacks, a team with one player batting over .200 at the start of the game.

The game was lethargic for the first half. Arizona went in order in the first, and the Mets only managed a walk. The Diamondbacks stranded a single in the second, and so did New York. Arizona went in order in the third, while the Metropolitans stranded another single.

The middle innings didn't have much else happening, either. Carasco worked out of a top of the fourth with a single and double leaving second and third with no outs, intentionally walking the only decent Diamondback's hitter to load the bases for a player batting 0.000. New York went in order in the bottom of the frame. Arizona just had a walk and a stolen base to show for the fifth, while in the bottom half, the Mets erased another hit batsman with a double-play. The D-backs went in order in the sixth, while New York stranded a leadoff walk.

Things finally got moving in the last third of the game. The top of the seventh started with a leadoff single for Arizona, and then after a pitching change, the bullpen finally lived up to form and gave up a two-run homer to the lightest of hitting shortstops. A two-out walk was followed by a misplayed and lollygagged double that scored another run, leaving Arizona with a 3-0 lead. The Metropolitans limped through the bottom of the inning with a single to show for it. The Diamondbacks just had a single in the top of the eighth, and then it looked like New York finally remembered the team that they were for a second. A one-out single was followed by a no-doubter homer to left. Lindor walked the tying run to first, bringing Big Meat Pete to the plate, but his scorcher was right to the shortstop, leading to a double-play to end the inning--and rally--at 3-2 Diamondbacks. Arizona threatened again in the ninth, with back-to-back one-out singles. A two-out intentional walk loaded the bases before a strikeout ended the threat. The Mets, not rising to the moment, went weakly 1-2-3 in the bottom of the ninth, leaving the final tally 3-2 Arizona.

The Scorecard:

Diamondbacks vs. Metropolitans, 4/16/22. Diamondbacks won, 3-2

I used the $6 program scorecard again, which wasn't much changed from the previous year: cardstock paper in the centerfold with no ads. There were twelve player lines with room for substitutes (less an issue with universal DH [boo]) with AB, R, H, and RBI totals, and twelve inning lines with R/H splits. There were six pitching lines for each team, and totals for Double Plays, Doubles, Triples, Home Runs, Errors, and Left on Base.

A lot of things of note. Alonzo had a sterling play in the top of the third to save a single, looking like a water buffalo trying to dodge a bullet. The Mets lined back to the pitcher in the bottom of the fifth, who was able to double-up the runner at first and kill an incipient rally. Also worth noting is the misplay in the seventh that gave Arizona the insurance run they needed. Marte misplayed a double (by Marte--conspiracy?) and that got across what would be the deciding run of the game.

To really underline the ineffectiveness of the Mets' offense, no less than three Diamondbacks had golden sombreros this game, and they still won. Mets' starting pitching: 5 innings, 3 hits, no runs, 8 Ks. Mets' relievers: 4 IP, 6 hits, 3 ER, 8 Ks. Just kill me.

The Accommodations:
Back in my non-mandatory isolated apartment in Jersey City

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

Stand-Alone Trip, 2022

Queens

On Getting Back on the First Horse of the Apocalypse

Not Shea Stadium, 2021

Saturday, May 8, 2021
Arizona Diamondbacks vs. New York Metropolitans
Not Shea Stadium
MLB National League
Queens, NY
7:10 PM 

Outside the Game:

So here we are, able to go to a game again. The first thing I did when I was scheduled for my first vaccination was to figure out the date two weeks after my last shot, determine which team was going to be home that weekend, and then buying a ticket for said game. Even that did not go without incident, as three weeks before the game, I received a call from the Mets office saying that they expected to have full capacity by May and therefore oversold the game. For some reason, I was unable to convince them that they had, in fact, oversold the game. The official party line seemed to be that this was some horrendous injustice done to them that no one could have expected. I took my logical frustrations out as far as I was able, and then had to call back in a week later to actually re-buy a ticket in the new "pod seating" sections. There were limited single pods, and somehow I ended up paying another ten dollars, even though I was moving from the club level to a seat out in right field downstairs that they were charitably calling "lower infield."

But as soon as I actually had a ticket, I didn't particularly care. There was more follow-up forms that I had to fill out and whatnot, but all I was concentrating on was going to my first ballgame in almost exactly a year and a month, and my first game at home for over two years. The itch was real.

With the stadium only being at 10% capacity, I was less concerned than normal about getting in, but alternatively, I needed to get to the park as early as possible, because I finally could. I decided to drive out to Not Shea for the first time since the early 80s. Not on my own, of course, but hailing a Lyft out there, with a ride that was slightly shorter than the public transportation option. I was picked up by a rather no-nonsense gentleman who did not speak a word for the entire ride, which I appreciated immensely. Even though we hit some traffic at around 3:30 crossing Manhattan, I was struck by the fact he was the most technically competent driver with which I think I ever had the pleasure of traveling. He was always in complete control of the vehicle, at the proper distance, aggressive but not dangerous. It was quite a thing to behold. I told him as much when he dropped me off at Not Shea with a little less than an hour to kill before gates opened.

Walking around was surreal. Even for a regular May game, there would be a decent-sized crowd before gates opened, and now it was nothing more than a handful. I wandered around the abandoned landscape, taking in the large same-day testing centers that they had in place by the entrances and seeing all the familiar places before setting up, second in line by one of the gates at the rotunda. About fifteen minutes before gate opened, they let the lines into a socially distanced fence maze, and the hundred or so people in attendance at the time filtered through. At the first checkpoint, they confirmed your vaccination or test record (but not the form I had with me that the Website assured me would be required for entry), and then straight over to the metal detectors, and then ticket scan, and then receiving a Wonder Woman Mrs. Met Bobblehead. It took 600,000 deaths, but the Mets finally improved their gate process.

On the way out, I was taking my time. It was crowded, but not packed back-to-back on the way to the subway, even though they had inexplicably closed the main subway entrance, forcing everyone to go up the narrow side entrances. They re-arranged the tracks as well, but I found the super-express 7 train back to the city, sat in a half-empty car, and was whisked back to Manhatten. A surreal walk to the PATH entrance through an empty Saturday-night midtown put me on a train back to Hoboken, and then a quick and shorter Lyft home, to crash in bed as Sunday came into being.

The Stadium & Fans: 

Center to Home at Not Shea Stadium

Not Shea Stadium had changed quite a bit in the two years I had been away. And I'm not talking about the "Ford Garage" obstacle course in center field that replaced the dunk tank, or the Tom Seaver exhibit they added in the museum. The place had been made "Covid compliant," most noticeably by restricting all eating and drinking to the seating areas by removing every last outside table and chair. Every concession had social distancing lines in place, and every seat that was not designated for pod seating was zip-tied up to prevent it from being used. They also were strictly enforcing ticket areas, so you couldn't just wander around to any section of the park. They didn't even let you down for batting practice (though that was moot on this evening, as the tarp was out until just before gametime). Mr. and Mrs. Met were wearing face masks, which I both understood but didn't. All guests needed to have a real facemask and were only allowed to take them off when they were in their "pods."

The crowd looked like a late-season September match-up the week or two before fan appreciation day. It was patchy due to the distancing, but it was still incredibly satisfying to be in the a crowd watching a ball game again. The noise isn't what it was, but it was still identifiably watching a ballgame, and that was more than enough.

The Mets spent a good portion of the evening owning an awkward conflict from the previous game, where Jeff McNeil and Franciso Lindor engaged in an altercation in the dugout tunnel that had the whole team running in to see what was going on. It was given the awkward PR gloss of an argument over whether they had seen a rat or a raccoon running around. The Mets leaned into it hard, with a pre-game quiz contest over "Rat or Raccoon," and a McNeil homer had a raccoon superimposed over his face on the video board during his trot.

At the Game with Oogie:

First Shake Shack in two years

It was me and my mask at the stadium. Old habits die hard, and even though I was maybe in the first ten people in the stadium, I made a bee-line for Shake Shack and was perhaps their third customer that evening. Instead of sitting down and watching BP, I headed back to my seat in the pod to eat it up before heading back out. I went to the team store next to buy my normal crap before making a stop in the museum before wandering around on the lower promenade for a while.

I was half keeping my eye out for Jomboy Media's Jake Storiale, who was at the game that night as part of a promo campaign with the D-Backs. While we never ran into each other, I did work out that he was sitting just across from me in the right field seats, so I was able to grab a stalker picture.

I will say this: Pod seating is awesome. While only being able to eat in your seating is kind of a bummer, being able to sit and spread out comfortably is just great. You're close enough to other fans to be part of the cheering and get the atmosphere, but you're also not crammed up against some guy from Staten Island who is scarfing onion dogs all night and yelling on his cell phone to his distributor who is "just screwing him on this deal."

I brought some rice balls and a souvenir soda back to my seat for the game, since there were no concessions in the seats (although you could apparently pre-order with an app, but I never bothered to check). I left my soda cup in my seat on the way out, so that was a bit of a disappointment. But if I have the option of "unvaccinated" pods or wall-to-wall seating, I know which one I will choose going forward.

The Game: 

First pitch, D-Backs vs. Metropolitans

The (at the time) newly resurgent New York Metropolitans were facing the surging (at the time) Arizona Diamondbacks early in the second month of the season. Not quite a pitcher's duel and not quite a slug fest, the game ended with a Metropolitans win, so I can't be too critical.

There was a dearth of action early. With the exception of a catcher's interference, the D-Backs went in order in the first, while New York scratched out a single walk in their half. Arizona went in order in the second, while the Metropolitans managed just another walk. The Diamondbacks had a mini-two-out rally in the top of the third, getting a walk and another catcher's interference on base (more on that later), but a strikeout ended the threat. New York, however, got on the board in the bottom of the frame with a leadoff walk driven in by a two-run bomb to right by Jeff McNeil. A walk followed by Lindor, who stole second and scored when the catcher deposited the ball into the outfield, granting an early 2-0 lead, before three straight outs ended the threat.

Arizona went in order in the fourth, while the Metropolitans stranded a leadoff double that made it to third base on a fielder's choice. The D-Backs got a runner to second in the fifth after a one-out, hit-by-pitch got sacrificed over, but there he died on the vine. New York stranded their own runner in their half, with a one-out double making it to third on a ground-out, but no further. In the top of the sixth, Arizona got on the board with a leadoff single that made it to second on an errant pick-off throw, third on a single, and home on a ground-out to second, closing the deficit to 3-1, before a new pitcher and two strikeouts ended the chance. The Mets just had a walk to show for their half of the sixth. 

The Diamondbacks tried to extend their momentum in the seventh, and managed a two-out rally. Three singles loaded the bases, but a fortunate ground-out ended the threat with no runs across. New York tacked on a run in their half of the seventh. A leadoff walk was erased on a fielder's choice, but the trail runner stole second and got brought home on a timely single to right, extending the lead to 4-1. Arizona got one back in the top of the eighth with a single, walk, and two-out single to close New York's lead to 4-2. The Metropolitans went in order in the eighth, but the D-Backs only had a leadoff single to show for the ninth, and it went in the books as a 4-2 Mets win.

The Scorecard:

D-Backs vs. Metropolitans, 5/8/21. Metropolitans win, 4-2.

Just happy to be in the ballpark, I decided to forego my BBWA scorebook and use the program scorecard. And there was a lot to take in.

The Mets default scorecard has improved over the years. Now, it is on regular paper with a white background in the centerfold of the program, with good spacing for notes. The top has data lines for the opponent, their record, attendance, date, final score, and home record. There are twelve players lines with spaces for replacements, and each scoring square has a lightly printed diamond, with rows ending in At Bats, Runs, Hits, and RBI and columns ending in runs and hits for the twelve innings provided. Underneath are six pitching lines for each teams with standard stats, along with cumulative totals for double plays, doubles, triples, home runs, errors, and left on base for both teams.

First and foremost, there was not only my first catcher's interference play that I've seen in person, there was the second, with the same batter, in two subsequent plate appearances. That was definitely a case where I whipped around to the big scoreboard when the runner was going to first after clearly not being hit or having four balls. The first CI call was amazing, but the second one just left me incredulous.

The first catcher's interference led straight into the second noteworthy call of the night, where the Metropolitans promptly turned a 6-4-3 double play to erase the issue, but the play was overturned on review, leaving a 6-4 put out. We skip to the third, where Lindor's steal of home from first base was, in fact, his 100th stolen base--and what a steal it was.

In the bottom of the fourth, a play was made on a close play on a grounder back to the mound to catch the advancing runner on third. The runner was called safe, and it was upheld on review, leaving Arizona 1-2 on the day. Top sixth, a leadoff runner made it to second on a E3 on a 1-3 pickoff attempt. Last of note was a two out "hit" in the top of the seventh that was clearly some home-cooking on an E6.

Arizona second baseman Escobar got a golden sombrero and a lovely little hat drawing. 

The Accommodations:

I was returning to my same, old apartment, but it was after an evening out, which was a first after over a year.

So there's that.

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2021 Stand-Alone Trip

Queens

On Beginnings, Big Brother, and Baffling Baseball

Not Shea Stadium, 2019

Sunday, April 7, 2019
Washington Nationals vs. New York Metropolitans
Not Shea Stadium
Major League Baseball
Queens, NY
1:10 PM

Outside the Game:
So this whole endeavor started with a calendar mistake. Way back when I was buying these tickets in January, I purchased my first regular-game ticket at the same time as I bought my Spring Training tickets. I'm not entirely sure how I did it, but I managed to buy a ticket for a Sunday game instead of a Saturday game. As they were both afternoon games, and not the dreaded Sunday evening game, it was a bit of a wash, but it didn't really bode well for my planning capabilities, especially as I also managed to buy it as an eTicket and not a Will Call. I was firmly convinced I had tickets for the Saturday game until the end of the week, and only when I was showing someone at work on Friday my eTicket did I realize that I actually had a Sunday ticket.

And so on Sunday I arose extra early, got my breakfast in along with a soak in the tub, and headed off to the game at around 9 AM. I was able to get a Lyft quickly to deposit me to the PATH station, and again I arrived just as a 33rd train was leaving the station. This repeated for the orange line, and the 7, and I made it to the park in an unprecedented hour and a few minutes. I thought at the time that I had blown all my luck for the day, and I was mostly right.

There was a big crowd waiting to get in already with over two hours before gametime. They were giving away a Jason deGrom Cy Young bobblehead, and that brings out big crowds. I took my pictures and was sorting out where to enter when I saw some friendly blue tents advertising faster entry to the park, and so my interest was piqued. This turned out to be a bad idea.

Big Brother loves you.

The tents were from "clear," and they were advertising special express lines into the stadium if you signed up for something at a kiosk for free. Okay, sure. So I walked up to a kiosk, and it asked me to put two fingers on the screen. I asked an overly friendly attendant why it wanted me to do that.

"So it can scan your fingerprints," she cheerfully replied.

I replied with something rhyming, "Duck off."

She then went into a spiel telling me how safe it was, and I asked her who got the data. She said her company, MLB, and the Department of Homeland Security. I told her to do something with waterfowl harder. I then went around to the other people signing up to ask if they realized they were giving their fingerprints to the cops, and a couple of people started to walk away. A less friendly attendant came up and told me I was causing a disturbance and they would call the police if I didn't leave. Truly amazing.

So I went to the right field entrance and joined a short line and waited for the gates to open. I made some conversation with a family in front of me who apparently were from the area and coming back for the first time in a while. My only issues were with the eTicket MLB Ballpark app, which kept crashing. But I managed to get my ticket stable enough to be read. The time passed quickly on the temperate morning, and the gates opened at 11:10 AM, and I entered, and received a bobblehead without giving my unchangeable biometric information to the government.

My precious

On the way out, I dallied a bit to finish my scorecard, and then immediately boarded a "super express" 7 back to the city, and hit all my connections immediately again, so at least that was still working. I unpacked everything and settled in for an evening of Sunday TV watching.


The Stadium & Fans: 

Home plate to center field, Not Shea Stadium

Beside the fascist data collection outside, Not Shea Stadium hadn't changed all too much in the passing year.

There were a couple of new team store locations, a switch up on some concessions (including the welcome addition of a rice balls kiosk, but the removal of Raos), and a little more of the Iron Triangle slowly gone in redevelopment. There was no sweeping changes, and that's not really a bad thing. Although they absolutely need to do something about the center field plaza. They've squeezed in more and more concessions across from Shake Shack and Blue Smoke, and getting around just before gametime is an absolute scrum, and someone is going to get hurt if they don't do something.

Love ya, Casey

There was a huge crowd for Opening Weekend, plus the bobblehead giveaway, so the crowd was very involved during the ensuing fiasco. Mr. Met and his misbegotten wife were in attendance, as always. The minor cut-down to commercial time in the name of pace of play were in effect for the first time, and although they were minor, they were, in fact, noticeable--at least to me. But then again, this game dragged on to four hours anyway. Who knows how long it would have gone in the bad old days?


At the Game with Oogie: 

First Shack of the Year

After entering through the Right Field gate, I went straight to Shake Shack for my first Single Shack and Fries of the year. There was already a small line, but I got up to the front after a short wait and almost immediately got my food, eaten with gusto on the center field patio prior to my walk around the park. Upon getting to the club level (and again struggling with my eTicket [never again]), I was disappointed to find that the Raos concession had closed down and been replaced with some or other new generic concession. I only ended up getting a hot dog and souvenir soda on the special level.

Scoring row

I took a trip through the museum, but the Team Store downstairs was far too crowded, so I went to a new satellite store on the field level to do my shopping. After walking around and taking my pictures, I ended up Ass in Seat at about 45 minutes before the start of the game. To my right was a group of Asian friends who bailed relatively early when things started looking grim. There was a family in the row in front of me with a young baby in Mets gear who didn't know he was in for a lifetime of pain and disappointment. To my left we two old Jewish season-ticket holders. They were also scorekeepers, so we got to talking during the game and the building insanity towards the end. We had a good time of it trying to figure out some of the more intense absurdities of it all. It would have been a worse game to sit through without them there, so there's something to be said for community, I suppose.


The Game:

First pitch, Nationals vs. Metropolitans

You can't win a game when you walk twelve batters. You can make it close, but you just can't win it. And that pretty much is the story of this Opening Week matchup between the Nats and the Metropolitans.

The game was led off with a walk, presaging the rest of the game. It was erased on a double-play and led to an unconventional 1-2-3 top of the first. Not to be outdone, the Metropolitans started off their game with a hit batsman erased on a double-play, and a 1-2-3 bottom of the frame. Things went off the rails quickly in the Nats' top of the second. Another leadoff walk was followed by a one-out single, another walk to load the bases, and then a short single to start the scoring. Another single brought in another run, while a double plated two more runs and left it second and third with one out. A sacrifice fly to center brought in another run, before a grounder to short mercifully ended the inning at 5-0 in favor of the Nationals. New York retaliated with a leadoff double that got to third on a throwing error on the play. He was brought in on a following single. Another single followed, and then two strikeouts followed. The second strikeout was a lack of awareness that led to a double-play, and the dropped third strike led to the runner trying to go to first, but he was not allowed to do so by the rules, and the runner formerly on first was caught off the base in an inning-ending double play, leaving the score 5-1. Both sides went mercifully in order in the third, and we headed off to the fourth.

Surprisingly, both sides went in order in the fourth, but not so the fifth, for the Nationals at least. Five walks and a wild pitch led to two runs coming in to extend their lead to 7-1. New York went in order in their half. Washington kept scoring in the sixth, where four more walks and a single tacked on two more runs, leaving it 9-1 for the visitors. The Metropolitans stranded a one-out double and another hit batsman in the basement of the sixth.

The scoring was not over, as the Nationals turned a hit batsman of their own and a single into a setup for a three-run blast to left, extending their lead to a powerful 12-1. New York was not done, though. Scoring erupted in the bottom of the seventh, and two singles, a double, another single, and a three-run homer of their own closed the lead in half to 12-6. Washington only had a leadoff single erased on another double-play to show for the eighth. The Metropolitans stranded a hit batsman and a walk, even with two wild pitches to help them along the basepaths. These missed scoring opportunities would prove costly. The Nats were struck out in order in the top of the ninth, and New York made their last bid for parity. Another hit batsman lead off the inning and then a walk set the stage for another three-run bomb, this time to right, closing the gap to just three runs after being down by 11 runs just a few innings ago. But three straight outs followed to kill the impossible rally, and the Nationals went away with a 12-9 win, but not without using their closer for the save. A moral victory of sorts, one supposes.


The Scorecard: 

Nationals vs. Metropolitans, 04/07/19. Nationals win, 12-9.

Given the surprising improvement in the Metropolitans scorecard in the last few years, I again delved into the $6 official program scorecard. It is in the centerfold on heavy paper, now thankfully on a white background that makes it easy to make marginal notations. There is also no printing behind the scorecard squares, so readability is improved. Each scoring square has a dimly printed diamond that does not impede scoring at all. There is some oddness with the summaries at the top. You get the regular opponents, attendance, date, and final score, but the odd additions are the win-loss records for each team.

There are twelve players lines with spaces for replacements, which should be sufficient for most games, although this one gave it a workout. There is no formal place for player numbers, but spaces on each line for position and inning entered. At the end of each line are summary stats for the familiar at bats, runs, hits and RBIs, and each column ends in the expected runs and hits. Six lines of pitching lines are at the bottom of each side, with team totals to the right for double plays, doubles, triples, home runs, errors, and left on base. There is no advertisements taking up real estate, so it is comfortably spacious to work with, even with complicated games such as this.

So much weirdness, though the play in the bottom of the second takes the cake, and required an explanatory note on the card. With runners on first and second and no outs, there was a strikeout with a dropped third strike. The batter took off for first, but the problem is that with two men on base and no out, the batter is not entitled to become a runner in that scenario. The runners on the bases took off as well, with the runner on second making it to third. The runner on first broke for second, but was left between first and second, and he was tagged out after the catcher threw to second, for a rather unconventional K-2-6 double-play. Only the Metropolitans.

There was an unstoppable flow of walks from the Metropolitan pitching, which was the story of the game. You just can't win a game when you walk 12 batters, including walking in two runs. Because of all the double-switches, I was compelled to use three placeholder letters on the scorecard for the home team, and one for the visitors. Even with that, I had to double-up on player lines three times due to pinch hitters and pitchers. Two Metropolitans players got the unadorned golden sombrero for three strikeouts.

All in all, it was a bizarre game.


The Accommodations: 
Home, sweet, Jersey City

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2019 Stand-Alone Trip

Port St. Lucie

On the Weather

Wednesday, February 20, 2019
Jersey City, NJ


Outside the Game: 
I decided to go down to visit Spring Training again this year after a two-year gap. (It fell right after I got back from Australia last year, I was unable to get the vacation time for some reason.) Since my last few forays into March baseball had ended with the deaths of relatives, I had restricted myself to February, where Opening Day for Spring Training would suit my purposes, hopefully without mortal danger to my relations in my parents' generation.

So, I was supposed to fly out after work Wednesday, and, of course, the most difficult client in the world was in the way, as we were scrambling to try and make one of her unrealistic deadlines for a presentation by the end of that week.

The weather, as well, wasn't quite cooperating. It was set to uncharacteristically crack into the high fifties on Thursday, but Wednesday was greeted by the promise of an east-coast-wide snow storm. Regardless, I came to work with my luggage and in my travel clothes, but at around 3 PM, in the space of fifteen or so minutes, I got three updates from JetBlue informing me that 1) my flight had been delayed 3 hours, 2) my flight was cancelled, and 3) I was rebooked on the 6 AM flight the next morning. Given that they completely shut down the northeast airspace, it was about what you'd expect.

I confirmed my seat for the morning flight the next day and then went back to work, staying later than normal to try and sort out as much as possible. As I trudged home in the snow-turning-to-rain, I was not happy with the world. On getting home, I booked a car for the next morning and then tried to get to bed, as I would be walking up at 4 AM to make my flight. Just as I had laid down in bed for fifteen minutes or so, I got a call from the car service to confirm the ride I had booked no later than a half hour before. I grunted angrily through a call with them and then eventually drifted off to sleep at around 10 PM.


The Accommodations: 
Jersey City, against plan

On A Really, Really Long Day

Terminal "A" for awful

Thursday, February 21, 2019
Boynton Beach, FL


Outside the Game: 
There should not be a 4 AM. We only need the one in the afternoon. Really. I'm fairly certain I can prove it, or least show the absolute moral case for it.

At any rate, my day started at 4 AM. I slumped my way through a shower that sort of woke me up enough to get dressed and meet my car service downstairs. The only bright spot was at this ungodly hour, there was no traffic at all on the roads. I think I counted perhaps a dozen cars on the road the entire trip to the airport, which was under 15 minutes.

We were at terminal A (for awful), and upon getting to security, I was presented with a line that was far too long for this time in the morning. I can only surmise that all the bumps from flights the night previous led to all the first flights out this day being packed. But as proof of god hating me, I waited a half hour on a security line at 5 AM.

I eventually got into miserable terminal A, and after grabbing some food at one of the only two open stands in the entire miserable terminal, I lined up for my flight. The West Palm Beach flight was right next to the Tampa flight, and it was a subway series as all the people in Yankees gear were lined up for the Tampa flight, and the Mets fans were lined up for WPB. Thankfully, boarding went without issue. Thanks to the bump, I was in the bitch seat at the back of the plane, but I got in quickly when my boarding group was announced, and I got overhead space without incident.

The person in the window seat was an all-too-chatty account executive, but thankfully the aisle seat was filled by a woman who did not want to talk. We got off on time, and I was able to get a beverage and snacks before drifting to sleep, an act made more difficult by the fact that the woman in the middle seat across the aisle insisted on keeping the window shade up so she could work, so I had to huddle away from the sun as best as possible to get some sleep.

Outside of the shade being up and our flight crew thinking they were way more witty than they actually were, the flight went fine. I called my father when we landed, as he instructed me to do, and I would eventually be yelled at about that because what he meant to tell me was to call him when I was ready to be picked up, and I have not yet developed the necessary telepathy to discern that.

We did eventually get together, driving to a nearby restaurant. I wasn't quite sure if I was hungry or not, but as I managed to put away a huge breakfast, I lean towards the idea that I was at least peckish. We drove the rest of the way back to my parents' condo, where I took a further nap to try and get back into the land of the living.

Modest staircase

That one held, and I headed out into the afternoon in my mother's car to visit the nearby Flagler Museum in Palm Beach. This was the Florida mansion of the co-founder of Standard Oil, who also built the eastern Florida railroad, and then bully-headedly kept going out to Key West (although a subsequent hurricane would destroy his bloody-minded project). The mansion was Gilded Age excess in the extreme, and I took the last guided tour of the day, in addition to an audio tour that covered the second floor of the house. The day-to-day life described for his winter retreat was interesting in its excess, but honestly, the mansion wasn't as tasteless as the average suburban McMansion today. It was excess, but it was excess done with style, which at least counts for something.

The first private railcar toilet. Bask in progress.

The backyard even held a pavilion with Flagler's personal railroad car, famous as the first private car that had toilet facilities. He apparently liked to invite his fellow tycoons to ride with him just to show off his pisser. It really makes you wonder about things. I'm not sure what, but things.

Here is where things get adventurous. As I was getting back to Boynton Beach, I realized I needed to go to CVS again, so I put it in my GPS to find the nearest one. It directed me to exit earlier than I usually take, but I didn't think much of it. I follow the helpful computer voice, but I miss the turn-off, and try and do a couple of right turns to get me back, but I get lost, and as I'm trying to work out how to get back, I see whirlies in my rear window. I put to the other lane to get out of their way, but they are on my ass, so I pull over.

Now four cops get out of the car with their hands on their guns, and I'm a little concerned. I roll down my window, and they tell me preemptively that I was going 40 in a 35 (not likely, but it would turn out to be a pretense anyway) and ask for my license and registration. I give them my license and explain that I'm not sure where my mom keeps her registration. The cops are at all points around my car, and they are asking me to roll down my other window, and I'm wondering what in the hell is going on. They ask what I'm doing, and I tell them I'm trying to get to CVS. They ask why I'm here again, and I tell them that I just asked the GPS to get me to the CVS, and that I missed the turn, and I was just trying to get back there. They asked me why here, and I told him again about the GPS, which I pointed out to him.

Then they asked where I came from. I told him I was coming from the museum and repeated what I was doing again. They asked who I was talking to, and I told them that I hadn't spoken to anyone since the museum. They asked if I had anything illegal in the car, and I said it was my mom's car. He asked if I thought my mom had anything illegal in the car, and I couldn't stop myself from saying, "Not unless she got a lot more interesting." They eventually decided I wasn't lying, and told me to get on 95 and go back home to go CVS because I was in the hood. I thanked them for some reason, and headed the rest of the way home.

On the way back to the condo, I stopped off at a CVS closer to them for some supplies, managed to not be blitzed by cops, and then grabbed a shower as my father ordered up some Chinese food. I ate dinner and then retreated into my bedroom to watch some TV, before dropping off to sleep not later than 11 PM.


The Accommodations: 
As mentioned, I was stayed at my parents' snowbird condo for the duration of the trip. The guest room has two small twin beds that have "MyPillows," which they were in love with for some reason, but I just found them small and uncomfortable. They keep the condo at no cooler than 75, which is too warm to sleep, but in pilling all the pillows in the room on one bed, removing all the covers, and turning the ceiling fan on max, I was able to get some sleep. And also because I was exhausted.

The wiring problem that prevents a normal light switch from being installed still persists, so the one light in the room still runs on the Clapper. I gave my father some smart outlets a couple of Christmases ago so he could use Alexa to run the light, but he promptly lost them.

That said, you can only complain so much with "free."

On Unexpectedness

Blue heron in the Paradise Garden at Morikami Gardens

Friday, February 22, 2019
Boynton Beach, FL


Outside the Game: 
As this was the only real day I had to sleep in, of course I had a restless night's sleep. I attempted to get up once, failed, and went back to sleep for a while, trying to shield my eyes from the merciless Florida sun seeming through the closed blinds.

I was up for good at 9:30 AM, where I scarfed down some leftover Chinese food, showered, and headed out into the bright, bright morning. My destination was the Morikami Museum and Japanese Gardens, a strangely out-of-place destination a short distance from my parents' condo that begged a visit.

The gardens are some of the finest Japanese gardens outside of Japan proper, constructed by one of the only remnants of a colony of Japanese farmers that attempted to make a go of it in Florida at the turn of last century. Orange Cheeto Grande took the premiere of Japan there during his last visit, but I tried not to hold it against the place. Perhaps the most bizarre thing about the place was that my mother had gone, and not only liked it, but raved about the restaurant. My mother. A person who does not eat any "oriental" food.

I got there and went in after a little bit of driving to find the parking lot. I paid my entry fee, got some fish food, an audio tour, and some walking-around water, and then headed out into the morning.

Dance for my scraps, minions!

And the gardens were everything that they were made out to be. It was a magnificent, tranquil Japanese garden over quite a large footprint. I walked around almost all of the way, taking in the side gardens and the dry Zen rock gardens, before hurrying back to the main pavilion at about a quarter of noon. I was trying to beat the rush for lunch, and managed to get one of the last tables in the air conditioned interior with no wait. I had a lovely, relaxed lunch, and by the time I was done, there was a line back to the entrance of the visitors center to get in, so that worked out.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon seeing the rest of the grounds, as well as revisiting where I had already been. The extensive nature walk was especially nice, as there was no one else on there with me, so I was able to really relax and get lost for a while. After getting my fill of the place, I hit up the gift shop rather extensively and then headed out.

I got home and showered and napped before the family started to arrive for the required pizza party. It was fine, and everyone ate and talked, and I helped my parents clean up before hitting the hay for the game the next day.


The Accommodations: 
The condo again. Nothing new or exciting on that front, except to reiterate that MyPillows are awful.

On Starting Spring

First Data Field, 2019

Saturday, February 23, 2019
Atlanta Braves vs. New York Metropolitans
First Data Field
Grapefruit League (Spring Training)
Port St. Lucie, FL
1:10 PM


Outside the Game:
I was up "early" relative to objective time, but not relative to my schedule for this trip. After a quick shower, my father and I were off to the races at about 9:30 AM for a mostly uneventful drive up to the stadium. Well, at least until we were about to turn on the road to the stadium, when my father had an unavoidable bathroom emergency, forcing us to ditch off to a gas station at the intersection for him to conduct his business. We eventually made it the rest of the stadium, where he dropped me off to go in and he retreated to get some breakfast.

I took my pictures and went to the practice fields, to find that they had just closed. Wandering around, I found Gary, Keith, and Ronnie hanging out outside of the SNY vans. After their meeting broke up, Gary and Ronnie signed some autographs, while Keith immediately bailed back to the parking lot. I followed at a distance and saw him dump something into an expensive blue sports car rental, which is about what I'd expect.

After some more walking around in the Opening-Day excitement, I decided to do some shopping before the gates opened. That was a mistake. The store was packed, and after grabbing a few items, I was in one of the two checkout lines to get out, and they were not moving anywhere. God bless them, the old folks manning the tables were doing their best, but everywhere in front of me were people claiming discounts that they did not have ID for, slowing down the process to a stop. I persevered, but right when I was about to pay, one of the previous people who had claimed a discount came back with proof, the gates were opening, and after waiting a half hour, I just dropped my items and went to go in.

I got on one of the long lines, but one of the attendants eventually got me to realize that they had opened a new, shorter line, and I sheepishly got on it and was inside in no time.

After the game, my father and I waded through the crowd back to his car, and I pointed out Keith's expensive rental car to him. It was a bit to get out of the parking lot, but the attendants were directing traffic, so it was mostly painless. I napped for most of the way back, but I woke up just as we hit some stopped traffic because of recent accident. I finally got my father to bail off the main road, showing him how the "avoid" feature on his GPS works (on a car he's had for a decade), and we eventually found an alternate way back to the condo.

Running a bit late, we quickly showered up and headed out to dinner, and my parents' lack of prep hit us again. We went to a different restaurant than we normally go to, but there was a street fair going on, so after dropping my mother and me off, it took my father nearly a half hour to park, so he was in a great mood for dinner. We managed to survive the experience, and I had some excellent veal saltimbocca. Usually, one element or another overpowers the dish, but it was very balanced and light, so that was a treat. Perhaps not worth all the rest of the aggravation (and my father forgetting where he had parked), but we eventually got home, and I immediately made for bed for the early day tomorrow morning.


The Stadium & Fans: 

Home plate to center field, First Data Field

First Data Field hadn't changed all that much since I'd been there last, though the crowds were certainly bigger for the first game of Spring Training. It may have been the first sell-out I saw for Spring Training with them, at least.

There were some minor cosmetic changes to the park (new concessions signs, new concessions, opening up the old picnic area in left field), but apparently the haggling between the Mets and Port St. Lucie had been resolved, so there will be major renovations in the next few years. Whether they ever get done or get done on time remain to be seen. The only thing special they seemed to have for opening day was a golf-cart-full of 69 Mets on the berm with the 7 Line Army. I was able to get some good pictures while I was walking around.

Cleon Jones in the hizzouse

There were also more Braves fans than I would have liked (i.e. >0).


At the Game with Oogie: 

Pork sliders

So I was originally at the game with my father, eventually joined by many of my relations in the first inning as they trundled in. As I had gotten decisions early on the amount of people coming to the game, I was able to score two rows of five seats in the shade behind home plate, which were a sight better than the restricted view seats we had to settle for during my last trip because I couldn't get a head count until the last minute. One of my cousin's kids was colicky, so my cousin had to bail early with him, but everyone else stayed to watch the game.

I grabbed a burger at the Ulti-Met Grill and then pork sliders at the new stand that replaced the Italian place. Despite knowing better, I tried to go to the team store in the stadium itself, but got stuck on another long and unmoving line, so bailed again. If they don't want my money that bad, I'm happy to oblige them.

There were an unsavory number of Braves fans in attendance, who were a lot more lippy than I like my Braves fans (which is not at all), so it was particularly nice to be able to shut them up and send them home disappointed with a nice (and pointless) win.


The Game:

First pitch, Braves vs. Metropolitans

This Opening Day contest between the Braves and the Metropolitans was one of the more Spring-Trainy games I've ever seen in Spring Training. Though the Metropolitans walked off with the pointless win, I'm not sure if it was a spiritual victory or not.

Both sides went in order to start the first, as is tradition. In the top of the second, however, the Braves turned a fielder's choice, two singles, and a sacrifice fly into two runs and jump to an early 2-0 lead. New York answered in the bottom of the inning, where a one-out, two-run homerun tied it up at two apiece. Atlanta got a runner as far as third in the top of the third, thanks to a walk and two hit batsmen, but nothing came across. However, the Metropolitans capitalized on a two-base error, ground-out, and single to take their first lead, 3-2.

The Braves stranded a single and New York went in order in the fourth and the fifth. Atlanta just had another plunked batsman to show for the top of the sixth, while the Metropolitans extended their lead to 4-2 with a towering leadoff homer to center.

The Braves had a reached-on-error and single to show for the top of the seventh, while New York went in order in their half. Atlanta closed the gap with to 4-3 with a one-out homer to left in the eighth, and the Metropolitans again went in order. For their last licks in the ninth, the Braves stranded a one-out single, leaving New York with the pointless 4-3 victory (and also denying the curiosity if they were going to use the international extra innings rule in the Grapefruit League this year).


The Scorecard: 

Atlanta Braves vs. New York Metropolitans, 02/23/19. Metropolitans "win," 4-3.

The new twist on the Metropolitan's $5 Grapefruit League program this year is that it comes in either of the team colors (blue or orange). I chose blue, for the record.

Sadly, the same awful scorecard is still inside it. The semi-gloss paper makes it hard to write in pencil, especially with colored pencil, and the same bizarre lack of pitching lines affects this card as it has previous incarnations. (I crammed the pitchers names at least into a curious blank space right under the lineups). The scorecard features exactly 17 player lines, just enough so that you don't have space for replacements for all the players, which is nearly a given in Spring Training games. Players lines end in somewhat cryptically named columns for at bats, RBIs, runs, and hits, and the columns run for 11 innings and then stats. In addition to the glossy paper, they saw fit to have colored background printing under the scorecard, which makes it very difficult to read the scoring on those squares, and it makes a big mess if you have to erase.

The game itself was standard Spring-Training fare for the most part, though some elements were on steroids. The Metropolitans used 9 pitchers, averaging one per inning, although the starting pitcher made it into the second before falling apart. The Metropolitans also managed to plunk three Braves, which I can only be so upset about. Player substitutions started early in this, the first game. All the Metropolitans swapped out in the fifth, which the Braves started in the fifth and ended by the seventh.

But there were no particularly odd plays of scoring note.


The Accommodations: 
At my parents condo, one last time. As soon as we got back from dinner, I pretty much went straight to bed for another early morning, at least of my own devising this time.

On Another Early Day

West Palm Too Damn Early

Sunday, February 23, 2019
Jersey City, NJ


Outside the Game: 
Too early.

4 AM is too early to get up in the morning. I have all the respect and pity for people who have to do this every day, but no. It is not for me.

A half-awake shower and printing a boarding pass preceded a quick drive to the airport in the dark, Florida "morning." Thankfully, unlike NYC, there was no one in the security line, and I was through and too my gate with 45 minutes before boarding.

Facing another flight too early, I decided to upgrade. I went up to the counter and managed to communicate my mumbled wishes to Sue, who not only got my an upgrade, but got me an upgrade with no one next to me. I gratefully gave her my credit card, which repeatedly got rejected. Visions of angry, half-coherent calls to AmEx dancing in my head, she apologized for the problem, and she said she would just waive the fee. Sue became my bestest friend at that moment, even before she said she was going to try and start boarding early so everyone could get settled for such an early flight. Sue, at gate C11, I want you to know I love you.

We did board early, and I was in seat A1. As the first person on the plane, I was able to get overhead space for all my bags quite easily, and I was quickly followed by the person sitting in the aisle of my row, who had similar concerns. We settled in as the rest of the plane boarded and both stayed awake until drinks and snakcs services, napping the rest of the flight. (I can only assume he did, as he was failing asleep as I was, and he seemed to wake up at the same time.)

The plane arrived so early in rainy Jersey City that we clearly surprised the ground crew. We got to the gate with no problem, but then they spent, no kidding around, about twenty minutes trying to get the jetway connected to the plane. Everyone in the crew said that this was an unprecedented wait. We eventually were disgorged out into Terminal A, and not caring any more, I went and got a cab ride home, again having to give the cab driver the way, but still being too lazy to try and wait for a Lyft. It's my own fault, really.

So, I was home around the time I normally get up on Sunday. I was even in time for Talking Baseball which was not on for some reason. (It would turn out that Ed Randall was trapped in a subway and would start the program about 45 minutes late.) I made it to noon before taking a nap, and there was an additional nap later in the afternoon that may or may not have been voluntary.

But as it was, I was extremely jetlagged after not having left the east coast. So it goes.


The Accommodations: 
Jersey City, sweet, Jersey City

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2019 Stand-Alone Trip