Sunday, August 01, 2010

TEARDROPS ON THE CITY. [8-1-10]

Mets v Dbacks
8-1-10

It was not a good game. In fact, it was the complete opposite of good. Given that it happened after the lovely Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony, it was like going to church in your Sunday best and then throwing up all over your patent leather shoes.

The highlight of that part of the afternoon was this:
Oliver Perez appears out of the bullpen, but has not yet been announced by Alex Anthony. The gentleman to my left (wearing an I’M CALLING IT SHEA shirt, which to me indicates a level of taste and intelligence, especially since I was wearing one myself) sits up with interest. He straightens his shirt. He removes his hat and runs his hands over his hair. He opens a bottle of water, takes a sip, swishes it around his mouth.

“Now pitching for the Mets: number 46, Oliver Perez,” comes out of the speakers.

My neighbor leaps to his feet: ‘BOOOOOOOOOOO! BOOOOOOO!”

It was the loudest, most heartfelt, most purposeful and direct booing of a baseball player I think I have ever heard, and he was by no means the only one. There were about a dozen people left in the ballpark at that point (thankfully, the Yankees fans had all departed) but boy did they sound like a cast of thousands as soon as Oliver Perez’ name was uttered over the PA.

Jon Niese did not have it. I suppose that is a kind and charitable way to say “The Dbacks were teeing off on our pitcher” but there, let us say it. Jon Niese did not have it today. He did not have it today, and for some reason, the brain trust that manages our bullpen didn’t get someone up and warming their arm after the first three-run HR.  If this is starting to sound disturbingly familiar, I assure you that I am not in some time machine that took me back to Friday night. Once again, the Dbacks were having batting practice off of our starting pitcher. The highlight of his start was the organist playing “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out” during coaching visit to mound. “Bad Scooter really is searching for it,” I said, lamely, making a stupid inside joke pun that even we didn’t laugh at because there was nothing to laugh it.

There was less ineptitude on the field, but please, please, please, tell me why Alex Cora is in the lineup. I am starting to believe that this is all some kind of reality show or performance piece being executed by Jerry Manuel, because he cannot be taking things seriously with the lineups he is putting out there.  I look at Jeff Francoeur, and I think, “Jeff, I get it, you’re a nice guy, you make the beat writers’ jobs so easy, you’re the easy-going white dude that always has a good quote.” When I interviewed Jeff at the Humane Society event, I saw the switch go on, the switch in his brain that says “give good quote now” but fer the love o’ pete, TAKE A GODDAMN PITCH.

It was just so overwhelmingly sad after the lovely Hall of Fame induction ceremony. [Riddle me this: why was it ‘WELCOME TO METS HALL OF FAME CAP DAY” instead of ‘WELCOME TO THE METS HALL OF FAME INDUCTION DAY”? You could still get in the “sponsored by OUR EVIL CORPORATE OVERLORDS” if you had to.] And it just made things odd in the crowd. There were boos from the upper half of the Promenade, which was telling, because the upper rows of the Promenade are where the season and partial plan ticket holders sit. Lower down, a little more, and then even lower, less so. There you had the families with kids and people posing for photographs with Citi Field in the background - in the middle of the inning, despite the fact that there are 18 conveniently-timed breaks in the course of the game during which one could pose for a photo. Do you really think you’re going to be able to tell with your little point and shoot that that was David Wright at bat when you took your photo? Can you even get that much of the field in? No, of course you can’t. It astounds me that people choose the middle of the inning to take their beauty shots when they have seen these breaks in the game, they know they are there. They don’t use them to get beer or snacks, but they know the breaks exist.

Then there was the large group of about 20 to my left. Many of whom were Yankees fans. How do I know? Because they were all wearing Yankees stuff, or spent the entire game playing games on their phones or talking to their friends, or were glued to their Blackberries watching the game there. To which I say, why were you here?  I hate the Yankees like nobody’s business, but I wouldn’t go to a regular game in the Bronx, let alone a game with a pre-game ceremony, wearing Mets stuff, UNLESS THE METS WERE PLAYING. Furthermore, I’d feel guilty taking a ticket to a game with a ceremony honoring something or someone because I would feel that that ticket would be better given to, say, AN ACTUAL YANKEES FAN.

They were rude. They stood up and yakked without regarding to the action on the field, and told people to “calm down” when people asked them to please take their seats. (And for once it actually wasn’t us.) They brought up Johan’s start at Yankee Stadium as though that was the only time the Mets and the Yankees faced each other the entire season. They asked “Is this the Cyclones or the Mets?” They sang “The Mets suuuccckk” during the “we’ll root-root-root for the home team” line during “Take Me Out To The Ballgame”. We finally changed seats after that because I told TBF I was concerned that the woman was getting drunker and more belligerent as the game went on. I do not want to start a thread of “Yankees fans suck” because I know a lot who are not like this. But these fans are why their fanbase gets a bad name.

And the game sucked. Seriously, why did they not stay home and watch their team on television, with their newly acquired players, and their dude chasing a record, instead of coming to our ballpark and crapping all over our Hall of Fame day? I know not all Yankees fans are like this, but this made a crappy day that was supposed to be a good day even worse. I don’t even have any witty repartee to relate to you because when people are this rude and obnoxious, it starts to be borderline dangerous to engage with them.

Jerry took out David and Jose. I don’t know why I didn’t just stand up and march out of the ballpark at that moment, because if he’s given up on the game, I am not quite sure why I’m not entitled to as well. TBF is crabbing about how they are fucking up his scorecard by giving wrong information. Oliver Perez comes in, and everyone starts screaming for the bullpen shortly thereafter, disregarding the fact that there was no way another arm was going to be wasted on this freakshow of a massacre masquerading as a baseball game.

When it finally ended, people didn’t get up and storm out in disgust. They sat there shellshocked, or numb, or in sheer disbelief that the Mets just played a game that bad against the Diamondbacks.

But the worst was yet to come. The worst was getting on the subway - on a car we normally don’t ride in because we parked the car at Woodside this time - and hearing an overblown pompous ass announce to all and sundry that “It’s all Beltran’s fault.” The argument proceeded to occur between Mr. Blowhard and Mr. I Have Never Been To Citi Field And I’ve Watched Four Mets Games This Year But I Know Baseball and TBF, because he still can’t let go of trying to convince people of their stupidity, while I have abandoned this effort. TBF tried, quoting numbers from previous seasons, which were met by little knowing smiles and shakes of the head, which always wants me to open up the phone and find his Baseball Reference card, but every time I have ever done that I get something different and astronomically stupid, like: The Mets Spent Their Money In The Wrong Place, or: The Mets Have An Attitude Problem, or He’s Not A MVP Level Player And He Doesn’t Play Hard. I would say something like “The Beltran nonsense [e.g. fans with ‘Beltran is a clubhouse cancer’ type bullshit] makes me want to abandon baseball for good” except that I know I’m lying and I know the rest of you will quite rightly laugh at me and relate even more ridiculous periods of history that you have lived through, which I invite you to share with me here.

I am boycotting television broadcasts for the rest of the week because I have two weeks of roadtrip writing to catch up on and I am hopeful the cool perspective of Howie Rose will restore my sanity. This week is make it or break it for this team.