The Sunday Memory Drawer - July 24

Major League Baseball finally returns at the end of this week and I will note that this new pandemic-infused opening day comes around the date of July 24.  There is symbolism aplenty to that day for me.

July 24 was the very first day that I walked into Shea Stadium as a full-fledged baseball fan.  Oh, I had already been to baseball games.   Once to Yankee Stadium when my father and his cousin took me to an afternoon contest on the season tickets their oil burner company owned.   Truth be told, I had a horrible ear ache and had more cotton in my ears than in the entire state of Mississippi.  Plus I had no clue what was going on.

But, about a year later, I got the German measles.   Home from school for the week, I turned the TV dial to WOR Channel 9 and found the Mets playing one of their first games in brand spanking new Shea Stadium.   The team was a hideous mess.   But there was something about this game and this sport...

Hmmm.

So I became a rabid viewer.   My dad had been a lifelong Yankee fan.   But when your ten-year-old son starts to like the other team in New York town, he decided that he better adapt so he could enjoy this fandom together.

Eventually, it was time for me to be three in person as opposed to lying on the carpet in front of the television.  As luck would have it, the man my dad carpooled to his Connecticut job with had an in.   His wife worked for Rambler, which was the official car of the New York Mets.   Being the official car of the New York Mets meant you had box seats behind the visitor's dugout.   

And that was where my very first appearance at Shea Stadium would take place.

The entire week prior I worked diligently to figure out who the starting pitcher would be.   Ah, Jack Fisher.   I wondered who the visiting team, the then-Milwaukee Braves, would have on the mound.   I was focused on the game.   I could not breathe all week.

Friday morning, I awoke to excitement in my head.   And tons of rain drops on my bedroom window.

Shit.

Or whatever exclamation a ten-year-old might make.

I knew that my dad would not venture out to Flushing in the rain.   But, luckily, his carpool pal and his son were going to fill out the stadium box.   As long as they were game, my father would have to be as well.

As of 6PM, the game had not been called.   So we started to make the drive to Shea Stadium.   I will never forget the sight from the Van Wyck Expressway as we approached the park.   Because of the ominous skies, it was darker than usual.  But the ring of lights atop Shea looked like a beautiful crown in the distance.   I have never seen a more glorious sight in my life.

Amazingly, as we parked our car in the Shea Stadium parking lake, the rain eased up and then stopped totally.   Everything was soaked except for my anticipation.  

I remember walking up the field level portal and then suddenly seeing the field.  How green!  And the scoreboard you see above.  How majestic.

The usher wiped off our seats with a towel or two and I leaned forward onto the top of the Braves dugout.   Everything and everybody was so close that I felt I could touch them.

The Braves' third base coach was a guy named Jo Jo White.  As only a ten-year-old could do this (even with his dad nearby), I must have been razzing the guy.  On his way back to the dugout between innings, he reached into his pocket and threw about ten little packages of Bazooka bubble gum on top of the dugout.  Here, that should keep the kid quiet.

Of course, in those days when I was taken to a special place, I was allowed to buy one souvenir.  For some reason I can't explain, I chose a badge that said "Let's Go Mets."  

I had to go to the Retro Sheet website to find out specifics of the game.   The Mets lost 8 t0 5.   There were almost 21,000 people there for a game that last 2 hours and 32 minutes.   Knowing my dad, we probably left in the eighth inning.

Thank goodness, I would be back.   Many, many, many times.

So I consider July 24 my baseball birthday.  And I have always tried to go to a game on that date.   Some were memorable.   I recall going to a game at Shea with my good college pal, the Bibster.  There was nothing meaningful about the game but it went extra innings and there was tons of strategy that we labored over.   It was a template of the sport and the game.  Bib and I took about it to this day.

On July 24, 2020, the Dodgers will be playing the Giants at home.  In a non-COVID world, I would be there.   TV will have to suffice.   And, oh, yeah, the Mets will be opening their shortened season at Citi Field.   I will be glancing at that, too.   Because, in the parking lot of Citi Field, there is hallowed ground where Shea Stadium once stood.   

That's where my baseball fandom was born.

Dinner last night:  Chicken schnitzel at Jar.