Picking at nits

I've been in one particular fantasy baseball league for 10 years now. We began it shortly after most of us had graduated from college in 1998, one of my closest high-school friends and other acquaintances of ours, both mutual and from our respective alma maters. For the 2000 season, we renamed the league with the moniker it holds today: The 7 Train League, in honor of the line that takes you to Shea Stadium and the Sports Illustrated article in which John Rocker made it known even to those who had never watched a Mets game.

Each spring, after the Super Bowl, we get the e-mail discussion going to set up our draft date and review the rules and offer any suggestions for changes. There's also a good bit of good-natured smack talk and ribbing that goes on, often between the several Notre Dame and Boston College alumni in the league. We also spread the MLB trash talk around among the Mets, Yankees, Red Sox and Phillies fans among us. This year, I've found myself doing a lot of defending of the Mets' near misses the past two seasons. More specifically, it's been a one-against-eight (the other Mets fan hasn't chimed in to back me) argument that while 2008 was a disappointment and a failure to reach the postseason, it was not a choke job. Yes, 2007 was a choke job and the second-worst collapse in baseball history. (I really feel it was the third-worst collapse. The Mets blew a seven-game lead with 17 to play; in 1964, the Phillies blew a 6 1/2-game lead with 12 to play, and I contend that the Yankees' failure to close out the Red Sox with a 3-0 lead in the ALCS was worse, but that's the postseason, so I'll allow for a conditional designation on that one.)

I will say here that I do realize I am splitting hairs. I know that there are Mets fans as devout as I am who will disagree with me, and I know the argument is strong -- but on both sides. What it comes down to, really, is your definition of "choke." To me, last year wasn't a choke; it was losing out by a game because they didn't have their closer the last six weeks and it threw the entire bullpen out of whack.

While Billy Wagner isn't one of the game's dominant closers anymore, and while he had his faults and shaky innings, his loss was huge. He didn't pitch after Aug. 2 (a rough outing at that), and just one more win anywhere in the last two months would've meant -- at the very least -- tying the Brewers for the Wild Card. That tiebreaker would've been played at Shea Stadium, and while that doesn't mean a Mets win, they wouldn't have had to face CC Sabathia (and the Brewers wouldn't have had to face Johan Santana).

I think it's safe to pinpoint the loss of Wagner as the reason the last game at Shea Stadium came in the regular season and not the postseason (or, at least, a tiebreaker for the Wild Card). The Mets blew 12 saves in the final two months, and while that doesn't account for blown saves in games the Mets then may have come back to win, it also doesn't account for tie games that they lost in the late innings (like the finale), so it's probably a pretty representative sample. And part of the reason Wagner's loss hit so hard was that the relievers the Mets figured could fill in should Wagner go down -- Aaron Heilman, as much as it pains me to say, and Duaner Sanchez -- could not cover for the loss of an All-Star closer. Omar Minaya has accounted for that this offseason, which is why I feel so confident that this year will be different.

I consider it choking when a team blows a big lead, what appears to be an insurmountable lead, a situation where most observers would say the team has it "locked up" -- six runs up in the seventh, a 3-0 lead in a best-of-7 series, seven games up with 17 to play or 6 1/2 with 12 to play. I also see as choking a team that is by far the best in the league as shown over the course of the season (the Cubs and Angels in 2008, division -- at least in the Angels' case -- aside) but bows out of the playoffs without a fight. I also take injuries into account. Had the Mets finished 2008 the same way with Wagner healthy and closing games through the end of the season, then yes, I'd say that they choked. They had a lead of more than one game in early September, and they didn't finish the job. But the team was simply not as good, and no one could have expected them to reach the postseason with the bullpen they had to play with down the stretch. A playoff berth in 2008 would've been a gift, a bonus, considering what was left of the team by the end.

To me, September 2008 for the Mets was a slump, albeit a slump at the worst time. (Conversely, in 2007, the Phillies and the Rockies got hot at the right time, but I don't know too many people who considered either one the best team in the NL for that season.) Individually at the plate, the Mets had a fine September 2008 -- David Wright and Carlos Delgado each hit .340, Carlos Beltran .344, with each hitting at least six homers and driving in at least 19 runs. Jose Reyes (.243, 15 runs, 10 steals) is the only All-Star hitter on the team whom you might say choked down the stretch. That, and the depleted pitching staff. I'm not even getting into the loss of John Maine and the four starts in September that went to Jon Niese and Brandon Knight. To me, the No. 1 hardship for the '08 Mets was Wagner's loss, so I'm not even going to consider alternative explanations. ESPN noted the other night that if games ended after six innings, the Mets would've won the division by 12 games. I cite that only to support my contention that the bullpen was the primary culprit in 2008, the Mets addressed the bullpen as their biggest need this offseason, and 2009 will in fact be different. Along those lines, I also wouldn't consider a lack of depth an instance of choking; that's bad planning, and Minaya has planned much better for 2009.

Additionally, in 2008, the Mets hadn't been leading the NL East the entire season as they had in 2007. It was clear they weren't the best team in the division in '08, let alone the league, but you could make that argument about '07. That's why I don't see 2008 as a choke the way I do 2007.

Look at it however you want, but I've followed this team for 20 years, and seen 97 percent of its games for the past three seasons, and I contend that 2008 was not a choke because, simply, it didn't feel the same as 2007. It didn't hurt as much, because the '08 team wasn't as good as the '07 team. The '08 Mets were lucky to be in contention in September (remember, they needed to win 10 in a row spanning the All-Star break just to get back into it after Willie Randolph was ousted). Plus, I don't see how you can lump the two seasons together when the '07 Mets led or tied for the lead in the NL East for something like 179 out of 180 days (and had the NL's best record for more than half the season), but the '08 team led the division for maybe 30 days. The circumstances were simply not the same.

Since the second half of high school, I've been much more of an essayist than a mathematician. That is, I prefer the more flexible viewpoint rather than the black-and-white, concrete answer. For those taking the hard-line view of "choking" and saying, "The Mets led the division in September. The Mets lost the lead and did not reach the playoffs. Therefore, they choked," does that mean that any team that has a lead but doesn't hold onto it has choked? Did the 2005 Nationals -- leading at the All-Star break -- also choke? Sure, it was a 2.5 game lead with 70-something to play, but all they had to do was play no worse than two games worse than the Braves in the second half and they had the division. Or no worse than five games worse than the Wild Card contenders (since Atlanta led the Wild Card by 4.5 at that All-Star break) to get into the playoffs.

But no one expected the Nationals to be a serious threat in 2005. That lead through the first half of the season was built on an inordinate amount of one-run leads and a bit of emotion charged off the excitement of bringing baseball back to Washington. So no, it wasn't a choke job. And despite the addition of Johan Santana, the 2008 Mets weren't as far ahead of the rest of the division or league as the 2006 team was, or the 2007 team for 25 of 26 weeks. It wasn't the same team, it wasn't in the same position, it wasn't the same circumstances. Hence, I have no qualms about calling 2007 a choke but not 2008.

So that's my argument. I know it has holes, but after an offseason to mull it over, to let it ruminate and give it the perspective of distance, I don't see the 2008 Mets as failing on a season-long expectation or the 2008 Phillies as simply getting hot at the right time (and I think their three-and-out performance in the '07 NLDS supports that theory). The Phillies in '08 were the better team, the more fortunate team, and it was their division to lose. They came close, but they didn't let it happen. I can only hope that the 2009 Mets are as fortunate.

Falling short once again

I've let time pass and decided I'm ready to write this post. It's hard to watch your team come so close to the postseason and not close the deal. It's particularly tough when your boys have it in their control -- all they have to do is win -- and it still gets away. But as time passes, as the days go by and we get deeper into October, we get further from the season and reality sets in. Baseball fades as teams drop from the playoffs, football rises, and sad thoughts of this year become hopeful wishes for next year.

This year's fall wasn't as bad as last year's. It didn't hurt as much. While I hoped the Mets would erase the bad taste from 2007, this year's team wasn't as good. It didn't have the depth to overcome all the injuries. Bringing back Moises Alou probably wasn't a good idea from the outset, but losing him wasn't the worst thing to happen. But losing Angel Pagan and then Fernando Tatis, well, that exacerbated the problem. John Maine's absence in September wouldn't have been crippling if Billy Wagner hadn't gone down and blown up the entire bullpen. With Wagner on board, that bullpen lines up much better and fewer games get blown; more close losses instead to go the Mets' way and -- perhaps -- they edge out the Brewers by a game, instead of the other way around.

The 2007 Mets were on top of the NL East -- and the National League -- for the bulk of the season. They led until the final week. They were the better team. The 2008 Mets, though, weren't as good as this year's Phillies. Nevermind the postseason, where anything can happen (note the 2006 Cardinals and '07 Rockies, to name just two recent hot-at-the-right-time teams).

What we can hope for, as Mets fans, is that this year taught management a lesson. Luis Castillo is a black hole in the lineup and at second base. The bullpen needs an overhaul. Oliver Perez, for all his inconsistency, should probably be brought back. It'll be easier to fill that fifth-starter's position than both slots four and five. Ryan Church can be an everyday right fielder so long as he isn't concussed, and while Daniel Murphy and Nick Evans could probably be a serviceable left-field platoon, an everyday replacement there would probably be a better move.

I'll use another post to go through the free-agent options, but one thing is clear: The Mets are probably going to have to open the checking account to bring in Francisco Rodriguez or Kerry Wood. A closer is needed, and there aren't many available. Brian Fuentes may be had in a trade, but if the fans got on Wagner just because he put two runners on base before getting the last out, what will they do when Fuentes turns two-run wins into one-run wins? Or worse?

And I'd love to see them revive a possible acquisition from three years ago: Rafael Furcal to play second base. Castillo would have to be traded (and his contract paid for), but I'd rather spend throw money at the solution than throw losses at the problem by starting Castillo everyday.

So now we're left with another offseason of waiting, watching, wanting. The Phillies are up, 2-0, in the NLCS and appear headed to the World Series. Those fans will be even more obnoxious and unbearable if they get there. As for us, we'll just have to anticipate the Winter Meetings, wait for the New Year and long for Spring Training and then the coming of Citi Field.

Better late than never for another Mets opener

Ryan Howard's three-run home run in the sixth inning silenced Shea Stadium. The Mets had just taken a 3-2 lead in the bottom of the fifth despite John Maine's struggles. Willie Randolph turned over the game to the bullpen, starting with Ambiorix Burgos, who got ahead of Howard, 1-2. All he needed to do was keep the ball out of the middle of the plate, fool him with a splitter or an off-speed pitch that would get the struggling, free-swinging NL MVP to chase a pitch.

But Burgos' splitter remained whole over the heart of the plate, right in Howard's wheelhouse, and the big left-hander seemed to flick his bat at it, turning his wrists over effortlessly and driving the ball through a swirling, slicing wind. Shawn Green gave chase in right-center, but it didn't matter.

The Phillies led, 5-3.

Two runs shouldn't be a problem for the Mets, but the fans -- a Shea Opening Day record 56,227 -- sensed the team's funk. Cole Hamels was baffling the Mets with his changeup, even if his fastball barely reached 90 mph on a frigid afternoon. Only John Valentin, who lined a two-run single earlier to give the Mets a 2-1 lead and hit another ball hard and true for a line-out, seemed to have a good read on Hamels. The bottom of the sixth went by quietly and even though the Mets cut it to 5-4 with a run in the seventh, Shea didn't hold the same electricity it would on another day.

Maybe that listlessness was because the seventh produced only one run, despite the heart of the order coming to bat. Maybe David Wright's lineout to end the inning -- on a spectacular diving catch by Shane Victorino in right field -- to strand two runners seemed like the last great hope. After all, our hopes in the eighth would be in the hands of a newcomer in Moises Alou, the seemingly slowing bat of Shawn Green and Valentin.

But the Phillies bullpen is their biggest flaw, and as the team warmed up for the bottom of the eighth, I turned to my friend Dave with a thought.

"You know, a few years ago, Derek Bell got in the fans' good graces with a home run in the eighth to beat the Padres," I said, recalling another cold -- though not this cold -- opener that was tied at 1 when Bell lined a Donne Wall pitch into the bleachers in left field. "Maybe today is Moises' turn."

And it was Alou who got things going with a single to the gap in right-center in the eighth inning. Philadelphia's Aaron Rowand made a diving attempt, but the ball scooted off of his glove. I won't replay the whole inning, because it's easily accessible, but once Alou came to bat again in the inning and delivered a two-run single, Dave and I felt it was an acceptable time to leave our seats, get the blood flowing again in our legs, and start making our way down from the upper deck and toward the exits. We watched from the platform as Billy Wagner fanned two to end it in the ninth, the closer in the game despite an 11-5 score because he had already warmed up when it was merely 6-5.

Making it ever sweeter was Jimmy Rollins' role, the key error on a ball that never would've been a double play with Jose Reyes running down the line. There are some who say it doesn't matter how outs are made -- a strikeout is no worse than a groundout or flyout -- but I'd much rather have Reyes hit a ground ball with the bases loaded and the Mets down by a run than strike out. The chances of turning a double play with Reyes running are slim, and if the fielder doesn't realize that, errors happen. Just ask Rollins. It's only seven games, but seeing the Phillies at 1-6 after Rollins' offseason boasting -- which may come up during each and every series these two teams play -- does make me smile.

The eighth inning brought Shea alive again, the fans breaking the ice on their lungs and cheering each hit, each run and, of course, Rollins. The sing-song chant of "JI-MMY ROLL-INS! JI-MMY ROLL-INS!" began with two outs and continued as he trotted off the field following the final batter of the frame. The fans were smiling again, and the wind seemed to have stopped, even if it was still, technically, swirling. The afternoon felt warm again.

Yesterday's win puts the Mets at 7-1 in the eight straight openers we've attended, the lone loss coming at the hands of the Cubs in 2003, when Corey Patterson hit two homers and drove in seven runs in Tom Glavine's Mets debut. And once again, things look bright after the first game in Queens.

Tuning in to the WBC

Now that the World Baseball Classic has begun, I find myself interested. There was little chance of me truly getting pumped up for this new tournament beforehand, but now that the games have begun, several factors have drawn -- and held -- my interest.

The games. Quite simply, I'm drawn to the competition. I love baseball and I'll watch spring training games, but other than catching an at bat by Lastings Milledge and a couple of batters faced by Mike Pelfrey, I couldn't even stay glued to Sunday's Mets-Puerto Rico exhibition game. But for games that mean something -- even if that something is a trumped-up "world championship" -- it's held my interest. On Tuesday, when play began stateside, I kept the Venezuela-Dominican Republic game on at work and then watched the U.S. and Mexico both at work and at home. While I spent yesterday afternoon at the opening-round doubleheader for the Big East Tournament, I caught a little of the early innings of the U.S.-Canada game at a bar while I had dinner. Later that evening, I watched the end of the game -- the Miracle on Grass! -- at a friend's house.

Yankee-hating. George Steinbrenner hates the WBC. So I'm inclined to like it. Besides, the deeper into the tournament the United States goes, the longer the Yanks are without Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez and Johnny Damon. They're also without Al Leiter, but I don't see how that hurts them. The fact that Leiter -- a Jersey guy himself who pitched quite well for the Mets -- is even on the team is ridiculous. The guy is far from an effective pitcher. Obviously past his prime, he's also clearly past the point of being a solid contributor to a major-league pitching staff. Why he's believed to be a pitcher worthy of representing the United States -- actually, he's worthy of representing the U.S., but not worthy of helping them to a title -- is perhaps the biggest question on this roster.

The matchups. Yes, it's only spring training, but there are still some matchups I've been drawn to. Watching Carlos Beltran single in two runs against Billy Wagner in the exhibition on Sunday was nice when I realized, as a Mets fan, I don't have to worry about facing Wagner in the ninth inning anymore. He's ours! I know we're treated to a Johan Santana-David Ortiz at bat once or twice a season, but because the Twins can't seem to get past the Yankees in the playoffs, we've yet to see it in a setting any bigger than a Tuesday night July meeting. Ortiz's bomb on Tuesday seemed a little bit more impressive to me. And last night, as the U.S. tried to rally in the eighth, the Phillies' Chase Utley came to the plate with the tying runs on base and two outs. On the mound was Canadian Scott Mathieson -- one of the Phillies' top prospects. When Mathieson left a pitch out over the plate, Utley drilled it high and deep to center, flicking his bat away with the flair of a 40-home run hitter who had just hit one he was sure was leaving the ballpark. Only Utley hit it to straightaway center in a pretty expansive Chase Field, where Adam Stern sprinted back to the warning track and caught it just before he slammed into the wall. The kid let the young stud hit it, but he got him to hit it in the right place.

The best-laid plans ... The favorites are obviously the United States and the Dominican Republic, with Japan, Venezuela, Puerto Rico and Canada expected to put up a fight as well. Cuba is a wild card because they're isolated and so little is known about them as a team. The way the draw is set up, the U.S. and Japan would meet in the second round, ideally advancing and facing off in the one-game semifinal in San Diego on March 18. But Canada's upset of the U.S. yesterday means the Americans have to beat South Africa tomorrow and hope that Mexico either loses to Canada tonight or, at least, doesn't win by a score of either 1-0, 2-1 or 2-0 (something about the tiebreaker of runs per nine innings). A Mexican win by one of those scores means Steinbrenner gets his stars back on Sunday. Not having the U.S. get to Round 2 would be a nightmare for Bud Selig and his pet project. He's maintained that the primary purpose of the WBC is to expand global interest in the game, but having the U.S. eliminated so early would deal a significant blow to any efforts to increase American interest in the tournament. But hey, it might influence the International Olympic Committee to reconsider its decision to do away with the sport after the 2008 Summer Games in China. As I understand it, there is one last chance for another vote in 2009, but unless the rest of the world catches up quickly and the U.S. fixes the political mess its made in Iraq and elsewhere in the world, there's little chance that any further votes would produce a different outcome.

There are still some kinks to be worked out, but I think this is a tournament that could become something. Finding a way to ensure the best from each country participate is the biggest need; not having guys like Manny Ramirez and Vladimir Guerrero playing dilutes the whole package. But unless they find a way to fit the tournament into the November period after the World Series and before Thanksgiving, they're always going to have that problem. I can't say I felt a powerful urge to see such a tournament, nor do I think I'll miss it if it doesn't return in 2009 or 2013, but it's here now and so long as the games are on, I don't see a reason not to tune in.

It's still baseball, after all.

Day 3: Philadelphia freedom

Before I started this weekend endeavor, I had my doubts. I wondered if my enthusiasm would hold through the weekend. As much as I wanted to take the weekend and see three major-league ballgames in three different ballparks, there was a part of me on Friday that just wanted to go home and splay myself out on the couch to read some magazines or pop in a DVD. But as that 7 train pulled into the Willets Point stadium and I saw the high definition screen outside Shea Stadium announcing, MERENGUE NIGHT IS SOLD OUT, I got the feeling that this weekend would be nothing but fun; there would be no funk.

As I crawled into bed at 2:30 a.m. after Matt and I had convened again with Brad to discuss the game over a few pints, I figured 9 a.m. would come too soon. Yet when the alarm went off and I pulled myself out of bed, there was no dragging of feet. Matt and I watched Lance Armstrong pull into Paris and then I tossed my bags into the car and returned to the interstate.

Recent world events have prompted an increase in security, particularly in the various means of transportation, so as I pass through Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania and New Jersey, I am greeted with various variations of the same message flashing on the overhead LED displays: REPORT SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY. In Delaware, they use the state's postal abbreviation so that the sign read, DE TERRORIST TIP LINE, followed by the phone number.

I keep my eyes peeled throughout the drive, but the only suspicious activity I may or may not have encountered was not worthy of a phone call: a car with New York plates going the speed limit, a BMW cruising along below 70 mph, an SUV with a "Save the Trees" bumper sticker, a New Jersey driver leaving appropriate distance between the car in front of it, a hybrid car with a George W. Bush decal. These things aren't the usual activity from such drivers, but they don't seem to be threats to national security.

As I suspected, the drive takes two and a half hours, so I exit I-95 just after 1 p.m., find the parking lot that will give me easy access to New Jersey after the game, and buy my ticket with enough time to spare that I make it inside in time for the National Anthem, the first time in three days that I've not missed the first pitch because I'm still en route to the ballpark. I enter on the first-base side but must walk around to left field to get to my seat, so I turn right to walk down Ashburn Alley, the outfield plaza packed with concession stands, standing-room views and a Phillies timeline posted on the back of the brick batters eye in center field. Despite the recent comments by Peter Gammons and John Smoltz, just two of the esteemed baseball men who have come forward to pan the ballpark as a place to play, it remains a fabulous venue in which to watch a game. I ask for a seat in the shade, not wanting to commit to the sun on a hot day. For $22 I am placed in left field, in prime home run territory. As it turns out, I am just outside the edge of the overhang that would've provided the shade I asked for, but it didn't matter. I spend about an inning and a half in my seat; the rest of the time, I wander the ballpark. It's conducive to such perambulations. The wide, airy concourses might as well be enclosed and air conditioned, the difference between those areas and the open sunshine were so great. I'd also guess that 90 percent of the space around the park includes chest-high shelves on which fans can place their just-bought cheesesteaks and watch and eat while they stand and watch the game. If you wanted to get exercise at the ballpark, you could buy the cheapest ticket available and spend the entire game walking laps around the park without ever losing view of the field except for the brief half-minute it would take you to walk behind the scoreboard and Harry K's restaurant in left-center.

The gripe Gammons, Smoltz, et. al. have, though, is somewhat legitimate. Pop flies can end up eight rows deep in the outfield. Power alleys are chip shots. Tomas Perez, playing shortstop, goes back on a pop up -- as any shortstop would in this case -- but because left field is so small, Pat Burrell is playing so shallow that he calls Perez off. When Perez circles around to return to the infield, he's closer to the warning track than he is to the infield dirt.

They're clever there in Philly. As the public address announcer finishes off the day's lineups with the umpires, the theme from Law & Order serves as background music. When San Diego's pitching coach walks out to the mound with catcher Ramon Hernandez for a conference with starter Brian Lawrence, the choice is the theme from Three's Company.

Sometimes it's lonely going to ballgames alone. If you go to see a specific player -- say on a night Pedro Martinez is pitching, or in the minors, to catch a top prospect -- then you have a purpose. You can keep score and then pay particular attention to Pedro's innings on the mound or the prospect's at bats; use the other innings for trips to the beer cart or the bathroom. This is why I felt the need to view Shea Stadium in a different way on my Friday night trip. I was there just to kick off the three parks in three days weekend, not for any other reason. But as a Mets fan, it was easy to cheer and high-five the strangers around me on big plays like Carlos Beltran's three-run home run. In Washington, I sat with a friend and conversed with his fellow season-ticket holders around us. But the energy of the crowd inspired me to stand and cheer when a Nationals pitcher got two strikes on a Houston hitter, even though a Washington loss would be better for the Mets' position in the standings. For one night, I allowed myself to enjoy the atmosphere of a division rival. It made the ballgame more enjoyable.

The night before going to Philadelphia, I wondered how the fans would be. Going in, I expected Citizens Bank Park to rank third in enthusiasm behind Shea and RFK. The city is known to be passionate about its professional teams ... mostly when they're winning. These days, it's an Eagles town first and foremost. Until the lockout, the Flyers were probably No. 2 among the four teams. The 76ers may have fallen to last now that they're a few years removed from Larry Brown and the finals appearance against L.A. The Phillies fluctuate throughout the season. They're higher on the list in April, when they're in contention; if they fall eight or 10 games back by the time Eagles camp opens, they also tend to become the city's second sports interest. Among 35,322 fans on an 83-degree sunny Sunday (the smallest crowd of the weekend by 7,000, but bringing the total crowds of which I've been a part to 128,275), I do experience moments of Phanaticism. It doesn't reach the levels I felt in New York or Washington, but when Ryan Howard launches a double (mere feet from a home run, from what I can see) to left-center in his first at bat, then doubles into the right-field corner to deliver a run his second time up, I stand and cheer. Sure, it's probably more for his days as a BlueClaw, but I still find myself involved in the game.

As I said, I don't sit long in my left-field seats. The breeze is nice but I still feel like I'm baking in the sun -- and getting an uneven tan with the sun directly to my right. I get up to walk along the third-base concourse, stopping into the team store before catching another half-inning standing at the back of the seats, in the shade, on the walkway. Again it becomes clear that when this stadium was designed, the fans were the first thought; the pitchers, clearly, last. I continue out towards center field and Ashburn Alley again, passing the left-field gate and looking out on the sea of cars, the parking lot where Veterans Stadium once loomed. It's the first time I've been to this south Philadelphia sporting complex since a January night to watch Notre Dame play Villanova in basketball at the Wachovia Center. Now all that surrounds the four arenas -- Citizens Bank Park, Lincoln Financial Field, Wachovia Center and the small Spectrum -- are parking lots and warehouses. If it weren't for the new stadia and their restaurants, there wouldn't even be a place to eat. The biggest drawback to this beautiful ballpark is that it's in the middle of nowhere and can never rank with PNC Park in Pittsburgh or Camden Yards in Baltimore among the best places to spend a day and catch a game.

I pass again by the statue of Richie Asburn beating a throw to the bag, I suppose. I climb some stairs to the bleacher section perched atop the concession stands beneath the big Liberty Bell scaffold that lights up and sways whenever a Phillie goes yard. Here I can look down upon Ashburn Alley while getting a far-away view of the field, perhaps somewhat like the vantage point those rooftop fans around Wrigley Field see. When a spot along the railing below, the one overlooking the visitors' bullpen, opens up, I slid in, resting on the shelf beside a kid chowing down on a carton of seasoned fries from one of the counters behind me. I watch Clay Hensley warm up before he pitches the final two innings of this 5-1 Padres loss. The beauty of this spot is the closeness to the game. I can discern the stitching on Hensley's jersey, I can hear the zip of the ball as he brings his arm around and releases the orb at 80 mph to the catcher 60 feet to my -- to our -- left. Perhaps best of all, I can hear what Hensley hears, that being the taunts and jeers of the famously harsh Philly fans. Just as Hensley gets up to loosen up, Scott Linebrink also emerges from the bench beneath our feet. He stretches his legs, then uses the elastic band strapped to the railing to loosen up his arms and shoulders. "That's right, Linebrink, warm up!" shouts one fan perched behind me up near the bleachers. "Make sure you get that goatee nice and loose!" The comment makes no sense, but therein lies its hilarity. I study Linebrink's face for any sign of acknowledgement, finding none. But I like to think he heard it and was amused by it too.

As I spend the day exploring the ballpark more than sitting still to take in the game, I feel as if I am in a familiar place. I glance at faces looking for signs of recognition; I have this feeling that somewhere in this crowd is someone I know. This sensation, I later decide, stems from two things. The first is the ballpark's proximity to New Jersey -- just over the Walt Whitman Bridge. No doubt there are a lot of Garden State Phillies fans here. The other is derived from the familiar t-shirts and hats, either from a Jersey Shore vacation/recreation town or the Lakewood affiliate of the Phillies. I'm wearing a red BlueClaws hat myself to go along with my Gavin Floyd Phillies t-shirt. So as I stand along the bullpen, watching both the game and Hensley's warm-up routine, I'm not startled -- perhaps I'm even expecting it -- when a hand rests on my right shoulder. I turn around to see Hal, a BlueClaws employee I know from my days covering the team. In that moment I'm amazed more at my expectation of running into someone I know than I am at actually seeing such a person. We spend an inning or so chatting about the game, the ballpark, the BlueClaws before we split up for separate sustinence; now that the line has virtually disappeared at the Italian ice stand, I make my first in-park purchase of the entire weekend and get perhaps the best bargain at any of the three venues when a decent-sized cup of cherry ice is just $3.75. Even my small (or "like it") sized cup of Cold Stone ice cream cost more than $4. I take the ice up to the bleacher perch again to enjoy both the coolness inside my body and the complimentary breeze outside. By the time I'm finished, my tongue has taken on the same shade as the hat and shirt I'm wearing, that of Philly and BlueClaw red.

It's not long before Billy Wagner comes in and shuts down San Diego with perfect ninth inning and I'm scattering with the fans out to the surrounding parking lots. I'm quick to the car despite emerging from a gate behind right field rather than along the first base/right field line and losing my bearings. I walk left up the road at first before realizing that this doesn't feel right though there is some familiarity because I'm heading to the lot where I parked for a game last September (and I had been hoping to find again on my way in today). I turn the other way and head toward an intersection that I soon see is Pattison Ave., where I did indeed park in a moderate sized lot that does not have a bottleneck at the exit. I am out of there before I get to find out whether one forms or not. Thankful for the small but discernable signs pointing to I-76, I'm back in New Jersey in no time, cruising up 295 and then 130 to avoid the Turnpike traffic. When I do join the toll road at exit 8A, I'm north of the congestion and find myself coming through the door to the apartment a mere two hours after the game ended.

Exhausted, I make dinner and watch TV and manage to pound out the account of Saturday's visit to D.C., unsure exactly of how I am able to stay away until midnight. But it was worth it to relive the day before and record an account of this wonderful weekend while the images and sensations are still clear in my mind. My doubts about my stamina, my endurance for a three-park road trip in three days did not surface after Friday's initial questions on the way to Queens. The proximity of the three cities to one another and the comfort of a bed in Matt's house rather than a lifeless hotel room certainly made the trip more bearable, not to mention the camaraderie the three of us shared over burgers and beer and more beer.

I'm happy, too, that I stuck to my budget and limited my expenditures to tickets and higher-quality meals and drinks outside of the ballpark concessions. Before embarking on the trip, I told Casey that, other than the games for which I already have tickets, I think it's just minor-league ballparks for the rest of the summer. These major-league prices can take a toll on your wallet.

My passion for the game is as strong as ever, so I suppose it's no surprise to me that I've already looked at which teams are at home this Saturday, when Casey's away again. I'm happy to get in as many games as I can now, because once December rolls around, when we're two months removed from the World Series, in the dead period between the end of the college football season and awaiting the bowl games, I'll be itching for springtime and the start of another baseball season.