Last week I headed to Citi Field as the Mets hosted Chicago. No, not the Cubs. That other Chicago team. I wanted to get there early. The giveaway was a Mets basketball jersey. It might be about three sizes too small, but that didn’t stop me from wearing it. I thought my Tuesday evening was worth recapping. Hopefully you will enjoy the stories.
We begin at 6:00 when I hit the parking lot. By now I’m used to the no cash policy there. It was 22 dollars at one point that didn’t seem to be very long ago. I thought maybe it had gone to 30 the last time. I’m not sure, but it was 40 last week. I then began my walk across the highway to Citi Field. From there it was up to the 500s. At around 6:15 I finally reached my seat. Of course I was wearing my typical Mets black shirt and hat. It would have been a good time to wear shorts, but that didn’t happen.
I wasn’t expecting to be sitting in the sunshine for a night game, but my seat was above the foul pole in right field. It was nearly even with that ball of fire in the sky, and it was an early summer evening. Plenty more heat and light to come. First pitch was still nearly an hour away. The scoreboard said it was 89 degrees, but my body disagreed. Time to spend some more money.
I pulled out 25 dollars for food and a soda. Again, no cash accepted. My hot dog, fries, and drink came to 21.25. However, the charge was for more than 25 bucks. Are they hitting me with an 18% card fee when they refused to accept my cash? I had heard about people spinning around the iPad and looking for a tip. This was relatively new to me, but stores do look for charitable donations. Al Dukes has said he is going all cash to avoid this, but I didn’t even get that opportunity. I had spent over 65 bucks before the game started, and that wasn’t even counting the ticket.
My cousin’s son walked down behind home plate (but still on our level). He said our tickets enabled us to hang out in a club. Maybe spend more money. Get some air conditioning. After eating my food and drinking the soda I decided to check it out. He had the tickets on his phone, and sent me mine so I could enter the club. After about five minutes of the picture not loading, I decided to start my walk.
They would probably let me in anyway, and if not I’d go back. I somehow missed the club and kept on walking. Eventually I decided to see just how far I had gone, as it seemed like I’d been walking for a fairly long time. My hunch was correct.
I had walked down to the left field foul pole. It was time to begin the long journey back to right field. I did find the club coming back. By then, my cousin’s son had returned to right field after getting my message that I couldn’t find the club. When I made it back to the seat, I was a giant ball of perspiration. It was only 6:40, and the sun was still hitting me. Maybe one day I can be escorted by my own personal stadium security like Frank “The Tank” Fleming.
Wednesday’s game against the White Sox lasted just over two hours. Most games are pretty fast in 2023 with the pitch clock. Tuesday’s contest, however, was not. Yes, I went on Tuesday. Wednesday’s game ended at about 9:15. Tuesday’s slugfest concluded at around 10:40. After 11-4 became 11-9 in a lengthy seventh inning, I could tell that we were not going to leave by 10:00 or even shortly after.
The seemingly huge Mets lead was now in jeopardy. I didn’t know if they would need to hit in the ninth after completely blowing their lead, and there was now a possibility of extra innings. When the sixth inning ended, I thought we would be deep into the eighth about 30 minutes later. Instead, we were still in the seventh of what had now become a tight game.
I had no idea what time I’d be getting home, so I headed back for another drink. It had been about three hours since my last trip to the concession stand, and I figured it probably would be at least two more before I pulled into the driveway. My pretzel and drink cost about 13 bucks. I really wanted ice cream, but decided to show some restraint.
The Mets barely hung on for a win. It reminded me of Bob Murphy’s call when they pulled out a close game against the Phillies many years ago. He said, “They win the damn thing by a score of 10-9.”
This one was actually 11-10, but very similar. The crowd headed home happy. It was a memorable night. Be kind if you see me at Citi Field one day. I will probably have endured some stress, and heat stroke is always on the table. Until next time…Let’s Go Mets!!!
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