Willie plays all fields

11:29 p.m. update -- The Daily Show interview was great, of course, and Jon Stewart's New Jersey roots made it unique, when Stewart mentioned Mays' days with the Trenton Giants in 1950. Back when the Trenton Thunder came along in 1994, the coverage of the city's baseball history had featured that connection, but I'd completely forgotten it. Mays was the first black player in the Interstate League, which was noted on this baseball signed by Mays that year.

Willie Mays is making the rounds in New York this week -- he's even on The Daily Show tonight -- to promote a new biography, the first that he has authorized. Last night's sit-down with Bob Costas on "Studio 42" was a joy to watch for someone who wasn't born until after Willie ended his career with the Mets in 1973.

My favorite Mays story has always been his afternoon stickball games on the streets of Harlem before he'd head up to the Polo Grounds for the game. In this day of SUVs with tinted windows and underground players' parking lots, you're not going to get that kind of interaction anymore. Though with blogs and Twitter and camera phones, who can blame the players?

Another thing that struck me during the two-hour program was that New Jersey's own Larry Doby was the runner when Mays made the catch on Vic Wertz's drive to center field in the 1954 World Series at the Polo Grounds. Mays said that he was more worried about making the throw to the infield -- knowing that he had scored from second on fly balls to the ballpark's vast center field -- than making the catch, but Doby had already rounded third, so by the time the ball got back to the infield, Doby was just getting back to second.

Two more segments of the interview are here and here, but they don't include one moment from early in the show when Costas refers to Mays' "classic Giants cap" on his head. It's bothered me for several years now that Mays regularly wears the hideous batting practice cap at his public appearances. But he must like the feel of it, because he wore the Mets version at the closing ceremonies for Shea Stadium. But Costas' reference to it as "classic" was grating. A cap with the SF logo would be nice to see, and a New York Giants replica lid would be truly classic.

I'll update this post tonight with the Daily Show clip -- if Willie's able to get there in all this snow. And though I have dozens of unread books around the house, someday I may have to get the Harry Potter-sized bio that has prompted this look back at Willie's career.

Dead Ball days

Great stuff here: a montage of black-and-white baseball photographs from the Dead Ball Era, set to the theme from The Natural.



You'll find a couple of pictures of Babe Ruth on the mound for the Red Sox, Ty Cobb at bat and Honus Wagner near the end. I love the uniform styles, too: the long sleeves, the collars turned up (the fact that there are collars at all!) the high socks and baggy pants. Early-20th-Century fashion is funny.

Dance-Off '86

Not only did the Mets win 35 more games than the Dodgers in 1986, but they produced an exponentially better music video that year.

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.

Where do they find the time?

I don't know where some people come up with their ideas. More power to them, but this is a level of creativity and organization that I can't match, but the talent and dedication is apparent.

First, it was the guy who creates amazing art on an Etch-A-Sketch.



Then I was shown the guy who made a portrait of Cal Ripken out of more than 10,000 thumbtacks.



I guess you need to fill those long, lonely days until pitchers and catchers report.

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.