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welcome to citizens bank park | metsgrrl.com

welcome to citizens bank park


That was so *not* my favorite moment from last night’s game. The rest of it was just swell, especially for my first out-of-town game! Seriously, I was excited. I just should have gone by myself and done the whole thing from start to finish, but I know people in Philly and was trying to be social.

I arrived at Citizens Bank Park by around 5 p.m. I did not have a ticket and I was supposed to be meeting friends for drinks. They were late and by the time I found them (and found the entrance that opened early), I missed batting practice in favor of having a few beers with said Phillies friends. They were there to drink, and not watch baseball (which is why I bought my own damn ticket, section 207, very nice), and so, after an appropriate interval, I purchased myself some Crab Fries and headed up to my seat. Judging by the sea of orange and blue, everyone else walked up today to buy a ticket.

First innings, first at-bats, and the section explodes into a “Let’s Go Mets” chant. So much so that the gentleman next to me inquired: “I’m not from around here. Are there usually *this many* Mets fans at these games?” (Unfortunately, he was at this game because he was in town for business and wanted to see Glavine pitch. Hence the ‘unfortunately’ part.)

We were up. We were WAY up. The only pitches Glavine managed to give up were HR’s, and yes I know this is a hitter’s park, but STILL. “He’s nothing if not consistent,” the aforementioned gentleman-next-to-me commented, while I pulled the bill of my newly purchased rhinestone Mets hat (FINALLY! I hated that the Yankees hats were the only ones with bling) over my eyes, wincing in pain.

I was glad to be there the first time Wagner came out on the field. And boy was I glad to have witnessed that incredible play by D. Wright in the 9th. And, even getting up for work this morning slightly the worse for wear, I was still glad I had gone. The trick with these kamikaze trips to Philly is to get adequate sleep the night before. Then you can get through the next day.

I have spent enough time in a Western AL stadium with concourses to appreciate the value of them, but last night, did not appreciate the drunk Phillies fans who perched themselves directly behind our section, hanging over the railing, and sharing these gems as follows:
(at first I was not sure, exactly, what that meant)
(Now I was sure.)
me: “Clearly, a subject you’re VERY familiar with.”
That went right over his head, but did get me some applause.

I don’t agree with the concept that you play it down when you’re not at your home stadium. Seriously, that is wussy, West-Coast-we-don’t-boo attitude. You go out of town to represent. Wear the jerseys, the hats, the socks if you have ’em. Cheer your team. I’m not saying do the victory dance in the aisle, but plenty of opposing fans come to Shea and bring their hometown pride. We might taunt them or boo them, but no one tries to tell them they don’t have the right to do it. I realize that this was Philadelphia, a town where you can get shot for taking someone’s just-shovelled parking space and which has to have an arraigning judge in the basement of the football stadium, but the whole “don’t wear a Mets hat at an out of town game” attitude is just silly. It’s more like, “don’t wear a Mets hat and be an asshole at an out of town game” that’s the problem.


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