My First Trip to Citi Field - A Photo Essay

Like the challenge its weird outfield dimensions present for some hitters, it was going to be very hard for the New York Mets' new home, Citi Field, to hit a homerun with me. After my initial game there on Saturday, April 25 with my new partial seat plan, I can tell you that all the place gets with me is a single. Hard hit. A line drive. But a single nonetheless.

As you approach the new park, the outside facade heralds every memory from every picture you ever saw of the old Ebbets Field. Not a surprise since former Brooklyn Dodger fan and current Met owner/Bernard Madoff victim Fred Wilpon has a nightly wet dream over his childhood baseball home. So much so that it's really hard to find much about the New York Mets in their own stadium. As a matter of fact, the rubble that was Shea Stadium lies to the left of the entrance and my baseball memories have pretty much crumbled down with it.

Eventually, the Shea ashes will be removed to create more parking that now costs more money. $18 per game and I wonder how much of that is going to be used to pay off the Ponzi scheme. As a matter of fact, given the Mets' rotating ticket price scale, there are some games this season where the parking fee will actually be more than the price of admission. Go figure. Outside the entrance to Citi Field, there are rows of commemorative bricks from fans. I had wanted to buy one that perserved my Shea location forever. Loge, Section 7, Row E, Seats 1 and 2. By the time I got around to it, they were no longer available. Pretty much par for the course as far as the Mets and I go. Too little, too late.

After your bag is checked, your body is patted down, and your ticket is scanned, you enter the Jackie Robinson Rotunda. Named once again for that legendary New York Met Jackie Robinson. And he played how many games for them? Trust me, I have nothing against the legendary #42. He broke barriers and changed the game forever. But, the Mets have existed since 1962 and have some history of their own that should be perserved as well. What about Casey Stengel? Or the Tom Seaver Rotunda? Anybody who has seen the pitcher lately knows that the word "rotunda" fits him well.

And, on huge video screens overhead, Jackie's hits just keep on coming. I felt a need to cross myself and kneel down in front of a can of Chock Full O'Nuts coffee (where Robinson worked when his baseball days were over).

In the Jackie Robinson Rotunda, you head up these two nifty escalators. A ride I should have savored more since they were not working in the opposite direction after the game. As a matter of fact, I couldn't find anything working upon my exit except for stairs. Lots and lots and lots of stairs. More on this phenomenon later.

We opted to do a complete wraparound of the park before we mounted the climb to my new seats. After walking through an area which looked alarmingly like the corridor that connects the 7 train to the Times Square Shuttle, we approached "the bridge." This is supposed to signify one of the many spans that connects the boroughs of New York. At Citi Field, it represents the way you get to one of the four dozen food courts. There is so much commerce being done here that you think about the Bible and Jesus Christ overturning all the tables in the temple.

Unlike Shea where an usher might shoot you for attempting to enter the Field Level with a Mezzanine ticket, you can wander freely around Citi Field. That is the only thing you can do there freely. Above you see one of the many concession stands adorned by the skylight that once sat atop the Shea scoreboard. There is a myriad of food choices. One stand features the "Catch of the Day." Even if I did eat seafood, I would probably draw the line at fish served a la fast food. By the way, you can get a lobster tail for $17.95. Is there a Met bib that comes with that?

In this area, you can always find a little kiddie baseball park and a waterless dunk tank (what the hell kind of fun is that?). To be honest, Citi Field is nothing more than the food court and amusement area at any major shopping mall. They just happen to have a major league baseball game going on at the same time. If you are so inclined. From what I could see, not many were. Citi Field is the ideal place for those afflicted with Attention Deficit Disorder. There's just too much going on. And nobody seems to sit still for a second.

There is a new Home Run Apple at Citi Field. The old one is there as well and available for photo opportunities. I declined. I always hated the Home Run Apple. Next to Mettle the Mule and Vince Coleman, this was the Met organization's biggest mistake.

As a baseball stadium, Citi Field is almost too quirky for its own good. Indeed, it's not innovative at all. Ever since Camden Yards was built, all the new baseball parks are copying one another to the point where they now all look eccentrically the same. A prime factor in this is that the same architect firm, HOK, is used over and over and over and their originality was probably dried up by 1997. Remember the day when you saw a brick wall behind home plate and you instantly knew the game was in Chicago's Wrigley Field. Now everybody has a freakin' brick wall. Enough.

I understand the Citi sightlines here are all screwed up as well. I know two plan holders who have already had seats moved because they missed part of the field. I remember going to the SF Giants' park and sitting in the upper deck around third base. I couldn't see Barry Bonds standing in left field and he's a pretty big object to miss. Does anybody at HOK even bother to sit in these seats when they design these suckers?

Section 509 is my new Saturday home. It was interesting to note that not an usher was to be found nearby. But, frankly, ushers are not needed. You do, however, want to seek out a sherpa with a pick axe when you want to climb the 13 rows to your seat.

So from a Shea view that was "so close you could touch the Met on-deck hitter," here's the vantage point from my seats now. A trifle high. We met my former Shea seat neighbors who are now next to me in the new park and they are not terribly happy either. Frankly, once I got used to the visual dynamic, it wasn't so bad. But, it's not the same. It's definitely not the same. The good news is that we are under what little overhang there is in Citi Field.

The bad news is that this overhang is also a nesting place for birds who flew up there frequently on Saturday. Perhaps, they're all trying to avoid LaGuardia Airport and getting sucked into another US Airways jet. Of course, my new location is not ideal for foul balls. But other "fowl" projectile will be a given.

The stairs up to my seats are incredibly steep and one beer too many will get you down to the field level on the fly. I stood up quickly at one point and almost fell over myself. By the way, if you're looking for the Met dugout or the on-deck circle, don't strain your eyes. It's not visible from my seats. But, then again, the pitchers in the bullpen apparently can't see the game either.

Here's that dopey Pepsi porch overhang which can give the rightfield a little shade if he wants to get out of the sun for a minute. Once again, this is a stadium that is trying way too hard to be cute. Less should have been more.

Diamondvision is now bigger than ever here and relentlessly assaults the sense even more than it did in its last days at Shea. "Everybody clap your hands." Gag. Note the sponsorship from a tractor company. Because NYC is such a farming community?

Okay, with the big emphasis on the Brooklyn Dodgers, can somebody explain to me why the outfield walls are black with orange lettering? Hello??? Anybody??? Giant colors??? Tres offensive.

The memory of leaving Shea via the ramps is also a distant one here. When the game was over, we looked for an escalator down. There is none. You could wait on line for an elevator. Or, like everybody else, take the freakin' stairs. Down and down and down. Like you're leaving the Statue of Liberty. A Stairmaster workout worthy of your meanest personal trainer. Handicapped people need to watch Met games on TV only. Talk about a misstep. Or three.

Citi Field did mark a first for me in another mysterious way. I woke up Saturday morning with a nasty stomach bug, which manifested itself in the kind of outflow you never want. This explains why, despite all the food options, there was nothing on my bill of fare for the afternoon. But, given the need for some...ahem....relief... Well, in all my years at Shea Stadium, I never once sat on a toilet in that place. At Citi Field, in my very first game? Twice. And I can tell you that the much heralded flushless toilets don't work as well as you would think. First hand knowledge.

Stomach cramping aside, overall, I decided finally on Saturday that this is no longer my home baseball park. Nope, my residence is that classic stadium nestled amongst the palm trees and hills surrounding Chavez Ravine. While there are some things to like about Citi Field, the Mets pretty much got it wrong. And should have copied what the Dodgers are doing with that baseball village they will be constructing in the parking lot. Make the stadium focused solely on the game at hand. Put all the restaurants, museums, etc.. outside so that people can even visit them year-round. And you don't need to buy a ticket to do so.

But, that would have been too easy.

Dinner last night: Fusilli with chicken and sundried tomatoes at Azalea.