Shea Stadium in 1965

Batting practice in 1965, taken by
Flickr user rbglasson

This is a great shot of ol' Shea back in '65 -- with a crowded upper deck for batting practice! Check it out by clicking on the photo to the right or perusing rbglasson's great set of photos.

So Happy New Year and all that. I haven't quite gotten back on track from the holidays, but I hope to be updating again soon.

Photo Friday: Braves vs. Mets, 1991

Out at first

This week's slideshow is another set taken before I got my first SLR (and, therefore, first telephoto lens), so the photos tend to be more of the wide-view variety. I cropped closer where I could, but for the most part, the view is what I saw 18 years ago.

A few highlights about this game. On a personal level, it was my first field-level game at Shea Stadium. We got a thrill out of being so close to the field, particularly during pregame warmups, when the players were so close. This collection of images also includes some personal favorites in terms of players: Howard Johnson, Gregg Jefferies and Todd Hundley. I also like how you can see the blue-and-orange racing stripe down the side of the uniforms, even at a distance. And one photo that's a particular favorite -- and I nealy used for the image at the top -- shows the outfield wall in left-center, with the old logos of the National League teams along the blue background. Those were so much more attractive to me than advertisements, which I prefer for the minor leagues, not the Majors.

A pile of rubble, blue steel and concrete

[NOTE: Updated, as you can see, with some of the pictures I took. I also embedded a great home video from 1982 Opening Day found on YouTube.]

After having lunch with two dear friends this afternoon, I had four hours to kill before work at 6 p.m., so with my camera bag slung over my shoulder, I rode the 7 out to Willets Point in Queens. The stop is still labeled "Willets Point-Shea Stadium," but that moniker is true in name only. As of yesterday, Shea Stadium no longer stands.

It's now just a pile of steel and rubble, not even the entire remnants of the old ballpark. Taken down in stages, it was likewise hauled away over the winter weeks so that what was left today is only a fraction of what has come down since September. (I'll add some of my pictures tomorrow; I'm just too drained to muster up the desire to deal with them tonight.)

You first notice the change leaving the Junction Blvd. station. Where you used to see the hulking blue edifice of Shea peeking over the rooftops along Roosevelt Ave., you now get a glimpse of Citi Field's light towers and the name of the ballpark emblazoned atop the scoreboard. It's a drastic change that fits more with the neighborhood -- the black steel of the light supports replacing the bright blue of the former stadium's walls -- yet still leaves a feeling of something missing. Then as the train approaches the Willets Point stop, you take note of the freshly paved parking lot, one that was already there but appears to have been resurfaced and re-lined, with new guard booths at the entrance.

But then the new lot leads to a construction fence, beyond which lie the piles of debris and a few small hills of crumbled concrete. Citi Field rises behind it all, even more beautiful now as you get a full look at the brickwork and archways that define the ballpark's architecture. Upon arriving at the station, I first walked east along Roosevelt Ave. on the sidewalk outside the fence that runs along Citi Field. The parking lot was full, a bright red Pepsi-Cola sign rests high above right field and the video screen was in action.

Construction workers continued to make progress both inside and outside the ballpark. Inside the Jackie Robinson Rotunda, I could see men on a crane working in the rafters, while crews outside laid sections of concrete for the walkway from the subway exit to the Rotunda's main entrance. A circular section midway between the station and the ballpark looks like an area set aside for either a fountain or landscaping, and the wide sidewalk covers the entire gap, ensuring that Citi Field's parking lots along the first- and third-base sides remain separated by a pedestrian thoroughfare. It'll be a nice break, aesthetically, preventing the ballpark from feeling surrounded by parking lots, as Shea was.

I then walked back through the turnstiles and up to the subway platform on the Manhattan-bound side to overlook the former site of Shea Stadium. Four others stood there taking pictures, three of whom got on the next inbound train when it pulled into the station. Only I and an older man remained, cameras in hand, looking for a few new angles from our limited perch.

"We should've been here yesterday," he said. "That's when they brought down the last piece."

Even had I known that the last section was coming down, I'm not sure I would've dragged myself out of bed that early on a gray, wintery-mix-filled day to watch a small section of ramps crumble. But this gentleman was a regular commuter on the 7 train and said he kept telling himself to take the time to come by with his camera, but didn't act on in until it was too late.

I'm only slightly sad to see the old structure go, and I'm sure that feeling of nostalgia or loss is tempered by the disappointing finishes the last three seasons. Had any of them ended with a World Series appearance, I might find saying goodbye a bit tougher to fathom. But it was a dump -- it was our dump, of course, but a dump nonetheless. I went to enough games last season -- 11 in 2008 and 81 dating back to 1985 -- to get my fill, say my peace and give it a proper goodbye. I've had enough of crowded, dank corridors, of no standing room for a better view and of meals of peanuts brought from home to avoid paying way too much for horrible food.

I'm ready for the new era, the Citi Field era. I'm optimistic it will be a period of perennial winners, of pleasant summer evenings and sunny afternoons at a ballgame, of Mets wins and Phillies losses. Perhaps more than the better sightlines and the fresh, clean feeling of a new arena, I'm stoked for the new food options. Danny Meyer's offerings alone could keep me satisfied during as many of the 15 games I attend from the ticket pack Dave and I bought, and I'm not sure I'll even get near the Shake Shack on a busy summer Saturday afternoon.

When the next train bound for Manhattan pulled into the station, I got into the first car and sat by a window, looking over the last pieces of Shea Stadium as we pulled away. The next time I see that spot, it will be a paved grid of parking spaces, no doubt already scattered with cars on a Monday in April as the fans, the players and the new ballpark get ready for its true regular-season debut. The Padres will be in town and the Mets, I hope, will finish the night 1-0 at their new home.

Making plans for Citi's unveiling

My buddy Dave bought us two 15-packs for Citi Field this morning, meaning we've got two seats to the home opener on April 13. We first started buying ticket packs several years ago, when they were six-packs for games at Shea Stadium. The last few years in the old ballpark, they were increased to seven games. Now, with 12,000 fewer seats, higher ticket prices and higher payroll, 15 games is the minimum. No surprise there.

But we willingly bit to ensure two passes to the first game at the gleaming new venue. We even splurged a little to sit within the infield, albeit in the upper deck. I take it as a sign of how in demand these tickets are that we are three rows from the top of the ballpark despite Dave's diligent refreshing of his browser at precisely 10 a.m., when the plans first went on sale this morning.

So here's hoping the Padres bring some San Diego weather with them for that first game on a Monday night in April. Something in the mid-60s would be nice. Barring that, I'm looking forward to a couple of brilliantly sunny afternoons for the two weekday games included in our plan, and a few stifling summer nights in Flushing. The next task is to secure a couple more Opening Night tickets, and to figure out what games might have availability in the right field overhang. Hopefully those won't all be sold in full-season -- or 40-game -- packages.

So for $355, I've got a seat at Citi Field for 15 games in 2009. And for $869, I will forever have two field-level seats at Shea Stadium. They're just not quite as close to the action as I remember.

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.

Picnic in the (ball)park

Sitting in Shea Stadium's picnic area was all that I'd hoped it would be. While not quite on the level -- even a smaller level -- of Wrigley Field's bleachers, Shea's small section of metal benches and close proximity to the left fielder brings a different feel to the game.

In Flushing, the picnic area leans more toward families, with plenty of small rumps to fill seats on the bleachers and not make it feel too crowded. In Wrigleyville, the bleachers are definitely the adult section behind the curtain at the video store.

Casey and I got there early enough that we had our pick of seating areas in the top half of the bleachers; we were too late to find much open space in the first half-dozen or so rows that lead down closest to the fence. But we had a good view and didn't get too crowded out as the benches filled in.

The Mets didn't disappoint, either. In the first inning, David Wright sent a towering home run into the picnic area, about 30 feet to our left. We could see the ball quickly climb beyond the edge of the top of the stadium, a small white dot against the darkening sky that quickly grew larger as it soared toward us. It came down almost directly to our left, and when they later announced the distance as 410 feet, I had to look over at the landing spot again to see where they got that measurement from. I was certain it was 10-15 feet deeper than the 410 mark in center field, but perhaps it was further left of center than I realized. Later, Carlos Delgado provided the only other run of the game -- on a home run to the left of center that also came our way. It couldn't have gone much better.

Ironically, though, for a section named "the picnic area," the food there is a much more limited selection of the basic crap sold inside Shea Stadium. Don't get me wrong -- I love the Mets and will buy concessions from time to time. But neither New York ballpark is going to top any lists of the best ballpark food in America. Things will change when Citi Field opens next year, but for now, I always bring my own peanuts to push back hunger in case lukewarm pretzels or hit-or-miss pizza or Nathan's fries don't entice me. Having gorged ourselves at lunch earlier in the day, there was no need for us to visit the concession stand, other than the soda I got to quench my thirst. And I did nibble on a few of the peanuts in my bag.

As for the bleachers themselves, as any high school or college football fan knows, extended time sitting on the ridged metal will numb the bum and ache the back, so we took to standing between each inning and, as everyone got up for the seventh-inning stretch, made our way down to Long Ball Alley beneath the stands. There, a small souvenir stand hawks merch and a few round bar tables fill the space and give the fans a standing-room area to watch the game through the chain links in the outfield wall. Josh Willingham stood much closer to us and the crushed red brick of the warning track lay on just the other side.

Having seen a game from the press box -- also the same level as the "luxury" boxes -- there remains only one section open to fans from which I haven't watched a game, and probably never will: The StubHub DreamSeats in the left- and right-field corners. Maybe there's a chance I'll get updated at one of these last games -- 25 to go, after tonight's 8-6 win over the Marlins, and at least four I expect to attend -- but if I don't make it, I won't have any regrets. I may not remember much of the changes that have been implemented at Shea in its four decades, but I do know that the DreamSeats are less than a decade old. There's no remorse in missing out on a recent gimmick.

The time is Wright for a walk-off

David Wright's walk-off homer, Aug. 7, 2008
Originally uploaded by NJ Baseball

On Wednesday night, I turned to a co-worker after David Wright committed the error that allowed the Padres to tie the game. "He needs a day off tomorrow," I said. After baserunning blunders the last two nights, some limp at-bats in clutch situations, and now this error, he looked worn down, sluggish. He looked like he needed a break.

Thankfully, he talked Jerry Manuel out of it. Wright had three hits and belted his first career walk-off home run on Thursday afternoon at Shea. That it came after Scott Schoeneweis could not hold a one-run lead in the ninth -- giving up a game-tying homer to Jody Gerut of all people -- was barely remembered on the 7 train back toward Manhattan. Though there are plenty of Mets fans who are only happy when they're bitching about something (Scott Kazmir actually came up, again, on the train ride back. Get over it, people), Wright rounding the bases was the lasting image in my mind as I counted the stops to 74th and Broadway and an escape from the packed, stuffy car.

I'm heading back to the ballpark tonight, my wife and I, for one more first-time-and-last-time experience at Shea: We're sitting in the picnic area. In 23 years of attending games there, I've only looked down at Shea's small section of bleachers and watched the home runs land there. Mostly a group-seating area, it is only opened for general purchase for certain games, and tonight was one of them. With just 27 dates remaining on Shea's calendar (postseason TBD), the opportunities are dwindling.

And for the first time in at least a decade, I'm going to have to bring my glove to the game.

Upper deck dozing

I did something I'd never done at Shea Stadium before: I fell asleep.

Here's the backstory: I worked Wednesday night, but managed to get into bed by 3 a.m. I planned on a good six hours' sleep before waking up to dash to the ATM for cash, have breakfast, shower and get on the train. What I didn't count on was the trucks showing up outside the house at 7 a.m. to repave the street. With our windows open (I love sleeping under the ceiling fan with the breezes instead of the air conditioner when I can help it), I wasn't going back to sleep as they began the resurfacing.

So I was eating breakfast at 7:45 instead of 9:05.

I got to Shea early enough to get onto the field level while batting practice was still in progress, and by sticking to the concourse, I wasn't asked for a ticket -- and so I didn't have to leave. I spent the first five innings making my way back and forth from the right-field corner to the left-field corner, with an occasional pause in the area behind home plate. Those three spots are the only places you can see the field. In between, along the baselines, the concourse runs under the seats as they rise up to meet the loge section.

Finally tired of standing that whole time, and weary from my late night at the office, I made my way to the upper deck, finding a lightly populated -- and shady -- section out in left field. Only a row or two from the top of the stadium, the breezes were pleasant, the view sweeping and the legroom ample. I put my camera bag down on the seat next to me, draped my legs over a seat in front of me and rested my arms on the seat backs beside me. Cooled by the zephyrs off the bay and lulled into a relaxed state by the far-off action on the sun-drenched field, I felt my head bobbing, my eyelids growing heavy. Eventually, I stopped fighting it and let myself doze off. The Mets won, 7-3, and I added another first to my Shea Stadium resume in its final season.

Shea Goodbye: 67 to go

I knew something was up at 1:05, when Oliver Perez still hadn't warmed up for a 1:10 first pitch. Moments later, the announcement came: A water main break cut off water flow to Shea. So the game is being delayed because the field is too DRY.

The game is now set for a 1:50 start -- and I wonder when these groups of school kids have to leave. They may only see an hour, and then there won't be as much screeching in the upper deck, or the annoying packs clogging up the concourses.

Unfortunately, I'm losing my sun over the top lip of the stadium and any light breeze makes it colder -- almost too cold. Damn me for ignoring my First Rule of Going to Shea: It will be 5-10 degrees colder there than it feels at home.

This one got ugly fast, so there's not much to say. Damn Bucs.

Shea Goodbye: 70 to go

I'm always wary when going to Shea Stadium with the Braves in town. I tend to get my hopes up -- This is the day. Today, they'll turn it around and bury those punks. -- only to have Tim Hudson throw a one-hitter through seven, or some such dominance. Had I attended last night's game, I probably would've felt the tide turning during the three-run-on-four-straight-walks third inning ... only to have Mike Pelfrey piss it all away in one at-bat to Kelly Johnson.

And so as I dragged myself out of bed this morning to check the weather and the ticket situation, I half-hoped for an ominous forecast of rain, or a single ticket in the far reaches of the upper reserved, indicating very little chance of using the courtesy pass this afternoon. But the Weather Channel told me that any precipitation for the day had already passed through, and Mets.com told me that I could have two tickets in the orange field-level seats if I wanted to pay $167.

But things started looking up as we made our way from the house. Casey and I went our separate ways at Secaucus, where she took the Northeast Corridor line to Trenton and I awaited the next Penn Station-bound train. Mine happened to be a train of the new double-decker cars -- a first for me heading into the city, or on a weekend -- and as I sat down on the left-hand side of the train, facing the platform on which Casey had been standing, I saw she too had the luxury of two-story cars, and would get to enjoy it five times as long as I would for my 10-minute trans-Hudson traverse.

My train luck didn't transfer with me to the E, which went local through Queens instead of the much more efficient express, but I got to Roosevelt Ave. with enough time to walk from the back of the platform to the front to ride the first car of the 7 the final six stops to Shea, getting some nice photos of the blue ballpark as we approached.

My comped seat, as usual, was way up in the upper reserved, but row B, which does make a difference. And once there, I scanned the starting lineups for each team -- my smile growing ever wider as I went through the Braves' lineup and over to the Mets. No Yunel Escobar, the talented young Atlanta shortstop. No Chipper Jones, the long-time villain in the Mets' battle against evil. And on the Mets' side, no Luis Castillo, the 32-year-old slap-hitting second baseman with two bad knees and a fat, four-year contract that the Mets should already be regretting with every downward chop at a fastball and each four-hopper to second base with runners in scoring position. Carlos Delgado was still in the lineup, but at least he drove in a run in this game ... albeit on a dribbler up the first-base line that Mark Teixeira probably should've let roll foul, or charged harder for a play at the plate. (And later, on the throw Tex did make home, he was given an out by the home-plate umpire, even though it looked like Angel Pagan slid in safely before Brian McCann got the tag down.)

It was nice to see the Mets bunch their hits together in the third inning for a four-run rally, but some insurance would've been nicer. On Friday night, when Jair Jurrjens lost his cool with the umpire's strike zone and walked four in a row, he provided all the Mets' runs in a 6-3 loss. They had two hits at that point, too, and I later found out that that's all they'd get for the game. Though they managed a few more hits after their only run-scoring frame today, they're going to have to put up more crooked numbers on the scoreboard if they want to put together any kind of winning streak.

Hopefully, they'll find some magic against John Smoltz tomorrow. The chances aren't good, but perhaps they're due. They're due for a six- or seven-game winning streak (the Pirates arrive for three beginning Monday, and then the Mets head to Arizona, where they've had great success the past three years; though with the D-backs' solid pitching staff, I'd be happy starting off with one win and going from there). The Phillies have been fattening up on weak pitching (the Pirates) and child-like ballparks (particularly their own), and the Marlins are playing over their heads. If the Mets can keep the Braves down and start another four-game winning streak on Philadelphia when the next series starts, the division lead will come back to them. But first they've got to start hitting.

Shea Goodbye: 73 to go

Thoughts and scenes from Game No. 8 at Shea...

The Mets had a moment of silence for the fan who fell from an escalator after yesterday's game, though they didn't say that he died. "Heartfelt condolences" and "prayers" went out to the man's family regarding the "tragedy." I also noticed a small bouquet of carnations left beside a Loge level escalator in right field, though the accident occurred on a left-field escalator.

Fans aren't giving John Maine much leeway. Two walks, a hit-and-run single and one run so far in the first have the boo birds singing. Twelve of 17 pitches have been balls. Retiring Lastings Milledge helped.

Security just called three teens down from the top row of the upper deck to question them in the tunnel about pot. "Which one of you has weed?" one asked, getting in their faces. One punk raised his arms and said, "Search me." Hope none of them have it, or he just sold out his buddies. In the meantime, Maine retired Austin Kearns to end the inning.

Ryan Church took Matt Chico deep. Who said he couldn't hit lefties? Way to victimize your former team, Churchy.

Chico fouled one off in the fourth that went into the field level and hit a Nathan's hot dog box that the vendor was holding on his head. He loved that moment.

Shea Goodbye: 75 to go

I'm not going to be able to post after every game, so I won't bother trying. But when I can, I'll continue the Shea Stadium countdown.

What we're left with after this weekend is a deflating loss to the Brewers -- a deflating series, losing two out of three after an uplifting two out of three taken from the Phillies. Winning Friday's game was nice, running the winning streak to three games, but losing Jose Reyes with a tight hamstring -- and then missing him for Saturday's and Sunday's games -- certainly hurt. It's too early, and the Mets have been too inconsistent, to say that Reyes' absence cost them in the two remaining games, particularly when Johan Santana gave up a couple of home runs Saturday and Oliver Perez and Jorge Sosa could not retain the lead the Mets had built after three innings on Sunday.

I don't mind Prince Fielder or even Rickie Weeks beating you with long balls, but Gabe Kapler? Gabe Kapler?? The guy was a Class A manager in 2007, and he's the slugging face of the Brewers' two wins in this series? Championship teams don't let that happen.

The Nationals are in town on Tuesday, providing another chance to win a series from the bottom half of the National League. Though Washington just snapped its nine-game losing streak. My plan this week is to go to Wednesday's game, then hit Thursday's Astros-Phillies matinee. There are a couple of other options both days, including some minor league matchups with first pitch schedule for noon or earlier. So many choices.

Shea Goodbye: 78 to go

Couldn't watch this one because I was at my friend Dave's wedding rehearsal dinner -- this, the guy who planned his wedding for the same week as the Mets' home opener and thus couldn't go on Tuesday, snapping his streak at nine -- but we high-fived when I got the final score text message. Watching Baseball Tonight now, and though Aaron Heilman continued to struggle, it was nice to see the rest of the bullpen come through, especially Scott Schoeneweis against Chase Utley. That was a big out right there, and if we can trust him in key situations, that's a bonus.

Jose Reyes was the key, not just because he doubled with two outs in the 12th and made a deft slide to score the winning run on Angel Pagan's single that followed. (No, I don't know if he actually touched the plate, but I don't know that he didn't, either. And I don't know that he was tagged, so I can't say that the umpire had the call wrong.) But Reyes also stole his first base in 23 games, according to ESPN, and that's what the Mets need from him -- getting on base, creating runs, and stealing bags. As they say about power hitters when they step to the plate, that they're already in scoring position, so it goes with Reyes once he reaches: he's in scoring position. If he's on first base, he can score on a double. Or he can steal second to put himself in scoring position. His success is key to the Mets', so it's glad to see him coming around.

But what's with Steve Berthume on Baseball Tonight? During every highlight, he's mentioning any player who once donned a Mets uniform by prefacing his name with "former Mets great," no matter who the player is -- including Xavier Nady (less than a year in Queens) and Chad Bradford (a decent but nothing-special middle reliever). Was his year at SNY unpleasant?

Shea Goodbye: 79 to go

Aaaaaaand ... breathe ...

Now that feels better.

Glad to see the Mets show some patience and hold off on swinging at pitches thrown nowhere near the strikezone. Kyle Kendrick -- who's soft-tosser Paul Byrd, only 15 years younger (and without the control) -- should not be beating top teams with patient hitters, and the Mets didn't let him do it to them. They needed this. They needed a win to get the Phillies out of their heads. And they needed Mike Pelfrey to build some confidence and have a solid start to his 2008 campaign.

There are a lot of Mets fans at work who are down on Pelfrey, who see nothing in his future with this team. I'm not there yet. This is definitely his do-or-die year; he has to show he's ready to pitch consistently at this level. Will he ever be a No. 1 starter? Probably not. But he can be a capable, reliable middle-of-the-rotation piece, if not a decent No. 2.

Here's hoping Wednesday night was just the start, for both Pelfrey and the Mets.

At Shea, the future looks bright -- it has to

The Mets are celebrating 45 seasons at Shea Stadium this summer before they open the sparkling new Citi Field in 2009, and as the new ballpark takes its final shape behind the giant scoreboard in right-center field, it's hard not to long for the future. Yet it becomes easier if you dwell even briefly on the present play by the Amazin's. Amazin'ly frustrating is what it is.

Was so sluggish this morning. The sniffles I went to bed with stuck around till morning and invited a sore throat over as well. Such uninvited guests. It didn't help that Harry made his way into the bedroom and kept me awake several times with purring and attempts to burrow under the covers. Perhaps I can't close the door tightly enough because, subconsiously, I want the cats to join us. But it's definitely not a good idea when I need to get a good night's sleep -- or a good five hours.

It also doesn't help that the train is eight minutes late. Though while writing, I forgot about my sniffles for a while, so hopefully the rest of the day follows suit. (Postscript: It does. I don't become aware of my minor ailments again until I'm sitting at my desk more than 12 hours later.)
A lot of good things about this Opening Day -- particularly fewer black jerseys and hats in the stands. One guy in front of me actually went back to the souvenir stand to exchange a black ski cap he bought for an orange one. And I detected a significant lack of red in the ballpark, too. Sure, the Phillies fans were there, and if you were near them, they made their obnoxiousness heard, but I actually felt that there were fewer this year than last. Philly fans are weird that way: They tended to remain underground (unless you're at Wogie's) through most of last baseball season, then when their team went on a run in September -- and only then -- did they come out of the woodwork, dusting off their red caps (or purchasing them, from the looks of many a pristine hat I saw) and walking around New York with a newfound air of confidence.
My mom's first words to me this morning when we met at Penn Station were about the obnoxious Phillies fan standing near the women's room waiting for his girlfriend -- and passing the time by verbally chastising any Mets fan who passed by. We saw more as we entered Shea Stadium, and more when we left, but we certainly saw some civil, respectful ones as well (a few) and more than enough obnoxious Mets fans. The thing about Mets fans, though, is that they're obnoxious even when you agree with them. I'm the kind of fan who sits and stews quietly when his team struggles. I don't want to be bothered, and I'm not one for talking in those situations. Most of the people in my section, though, vented their frustrations by berating the relief corps.

And as for the in-stadium relations between Phillies backers and Mets supporters: I saw more fights in the stands at this home opener than at any single baseball game I can recall. The scuffles we saw broken up across all sections of the ballpark numbered at least five, and on three of them, I still saw punches being thrown (no matter how far off the incident was) before the security swarm could reach the pugilists. One fight originated in the orange field boxes, just a few rows from the Phillies dugout. And in each instance, if we looked long enough to see who was being led away -- often with a struggle and lunges back toward the sparring partner -- we saw one perpetrator whose wardrobe contained at least a little red and another who had a hint or orange, whether it was among blue and white or as an accent on a black top.

I'm not going to rehash the game, though. It's here in perpetuity if I ever feel the need to go back beyond the box score. The indelible images from this Opening Day -- my 10th in a row -- were the approach on the 7 train and the new descent from the station to what used to be the road below the walkway that took you to the circular stairways that provided the narrow glimpse into the ballpark. That bridge has been demolished to make way for the expanding Citi Field.

And that's what stands out the most: Citi Field is a budding ballpark now, not just a few acres of concrete and steel. It stands as a picturesque panorama as you emerge from the subway station and a majestic backdrop to the ballgame once you settle into your seat inside Shea. It's going to be one of baseball's better ballparks, even if it's still out in one of the far corners of New York's outer boroughs.

The last moment of levity on an afternoon that went from excitement, elation and joy to frustration, anger and disappointment came in the eighth inning with the sing-along vote. The Shea Stadium crew acknowledged the Rick Astley vote and played "Never Gonna Give You Up" -- and the fans promptly booed it down. How much of the jeering was actually a carryover from the Mets' bullpen effort, however, has yet to be determined.

The Home Run Apple: A solution

Here comes the 7

There's no denying that Shea Stadium is a drab, uninspiring piece of sports architecture, a run-down 43-year-old stadium that leaves little room for improvement. The bright orange seats in the field level and the layers of paint cannot hide the fact that the home of the Mets was build in 1964 as a multipurpose facility that has become obsolete in these high-tech and lucrative times.

The team has done what it can (except in the area of in-game music, where the CD catalog seems to reach only up to about 1987), but it can do no more. In a little more than a season -- and a mere 97 regular-season games (and hopefully the full allotment of postseason tilts) -- Shea Stadium will host its final game, and a gleaming new state-of-the-art ballpark (in the truest sense of the word) will open just to the east of Shea's site.

Everything about the ballpark will be new, including the surrounding chop shops and garages, which will eventually be bought (or seized), torn down, and replaced with housing, offices, retail space, restaurants and a hotel. Though not in time for Opening Day 2009, Citi Field's surroundings will soon join the ballpark as a gleaming Queens treasure.

And so, as a devout Mets fan and a student, historian and lover of the great game of baseball, I think it would be wrong to move iconic Home Run Apple from Shea Stadium to the Citi Field outfield.

Hear me out.

The Citi Field drawings show an apple of some sort in the outfield, but the team has so far balked at declaring whether it would be the same old -- the operative word here -- homemade version or a new one. One online group wants to preserve the original apple in the new ballpark. I'm all for preserving it, just not within the walls of Citi Field.

Instead, the Mets should install beyond the outfield wall whatever shiny new apple they feel fits the character of the new ballpark. The original Home Run Apple should stay exactly where it is.

Exactly.

It can be removed while Shea is demolished around it, but once the old stadium is gone, put the apple back in its place. It's exact place, or six feet from it. A look at the final image of Citi Field on the Mets homepage -- the image entitled "Site Plan" -- shows Citi Field's placement in relation to Shea. A close look at the diagonal orange line that represents the current scoreboard shows that its left edge reaches to the sidewalk outside Citi Field. The apple currently rests near that edge of the scoreboard, if a little bit in front of it. Put the apple there, on the sidewalk.

Preserving it in this way should allow everyone to have their apple and eat it too. The Mets can have their new mechanism in their new ballpark. The fans who love the old thing can see it every time they come to Citi Field -- whether there's a home run or not. They can walk right up to it, touch it, stand by it and have their pictures taken. They can look out across what will be a parking lot and imagine Shea Stadium's home plate some 380 feet away.

I'm a big fan of historical sites, of visiting a landmark or a site where important, watershed moments took place. In locations where neglect or decay have forced demolition of the old structures, I stand in the spot and imagine what was. To see the apple in its original location would provide a lasting memory of Shea, of the mountain of seats that rose to the sky and provided a hurdle for the planes taking off from La Guardia. It would leave a piece of the past behind, a reminder of the stadium that used to stand there.