One more chipping away of childhood memories as provided by the New York Mets and their new food court called Citi Field.
The championship banners that used to adorn the Shea Stadium outfield wall have finally gone up at the new home. Plastered onto that bridge to the Land of Gluttony. You certainly can't seen them from the playing field but that's okay since I don't think there are a lot of people focusing on that part of the stadium.
I noticed it on my initial visit to Citi Field. Astounded by the newness of it all, I saw a lot of people simply milling around. A baseball game? Feh. Most folks seemed to be filling their gourds. And those who weren't chomping down on a pulled pork sandwich were at one of about two dozen clubhouse stores, buying a Mother's Day Met keychain for Aunt Betsy. David Wright could have hit for the cycle and nobody would have noticed. Or maybe even cared.
And, from my current perch 3000 miles away and looking in via television, the phenomenon is not going away.
Tuning into some of the Met games earlier this week, I had a sudden jolt. Except for the fact that they were wearing their white home uniforms (or whatever passes for a home jersey on any given day), I couldn't tell that the Mets were playing at their home park. The audio was noiseless, except for the increasingly over-exaggerated ravings of Met announcer Gary Cohen. "Carlos Beltran holds his head back....and he sneezes!!" The crowd seemed to be in their seats more often, but looked more like corpses on slabs in front of Dr. Thomas Noguchi. Even the crazy scoreboard cheerleading appeared to be subdued. "Everybody, clap your hands!" Not many were.
Has Citi Field been so over produced that people are just numb to it all? Did the common fan, who used to pay a couple of bucks to sit in Section 1 of the Shea Upper Deck with Fuzzy and Igor, get so priced out that they simply don't bother anymore? Granted times change. It's not like I tuned into the game, expecting to see that old lady sitting behind home plate and rolling her rally arms like she did all through the 1986 playoffs. But, still, there is something missing. An intangible. Is it temporary or is it forever? I need to see for myself when I next return in person on Saturday, June 20.
Maybe the answer can be found in all those commercials they have been running about this special "Night with the Mets." The ad airs right alongside the promo for T-Shirt Night. Call the number or check the website for tickets, viewers are told. I did. The cheapest price for this "fan event" is 500 bucks.
How many nails do you need to put in a coffin before it is officially sealed?
Dinner last night: Franks and beans.
No comments:
Post a Comment