It was a perfect evening for a game and our first excursion to the new CitiField stadium. Now that's pretty amazing. It's a baseball fan's paradise. The wrap-around vast concourses leave plenty of space for standing room viewing at the field level which I'm surprised was even allowed. The climb to the bleachers did not seem as steep for us limp-legged seniors. I was very impressed at the courtesy and friendliness of the CitiField staff which I hope never wears off. The unknown Pinman had a big smile for me as we climbed the escalators, he was so thrilled that I took his picture front and back!
However, I must admit that there is no glamor in sitting at the last row on the promenade. Clearly enough reason for us to abandon our ticketed seats scooting down lower where our noses will not bleed. We even tried going further down, but with security staff on guard we figured the hoi poloi must not be allowed in that section. So don't even try it.
A few minutes before the first pitch we were joined by Mao and George, by this time we already have stolen our own and mind you, even reserved seats for them. Chong had the jitters when people would come up looking for their section and she prayed hard it better not be in Row 2 where we were. I wouldn't exactly endorse our (actually it's just mine) tactic but hey this is done and by the paying public too. Guess what, nobody ever claimed the seats. So there you have it.
We wondered about it, the orange thing - it's the foul pole!
My attention was glued to the grounds staff as they prepped the diamond for the game. All that raking, replenishing with fresh dirt, watering - it all looked so well- orchestrated. It was a show in itself. And the concessions stands, you name it they have it. There is even a Shake Shack place and as usual the line serpentined and all for a taste of their famous ballpark burger and Shackmeister ale. And what's a ball game without your skinny pricey ($5.00) hot dog? Or a veggie dog, pastrami dog, shwarma, falafel or knish. And yes, you can get it kosher too! And that fellow in front of us, he must be so thirsty. He gulped down 7 cups of beer at $7.50 a piece. Now there's either a Mets' devotee or a foolish drunkard.
As for the game, let me go easy on the Mets. They performed after the 7th-inning stretch (Ho-hum I could've brought my knitting stuff), tied the game on the 9th at which point we decided to split. It was past my bedtime and who knows how much longer this scrambling would go on. At home, I caught up with the scores on the news.
Let's see how they'll fare with the Yankees during next month's subway series. That'll be interesting but in the meantime I'll just sit around and pray for that home run, Mr. David Wright.
