Wednesday, September 24, 2008

DEAR METS TICKETING OFFICE.

Dear MTO,

I am writing to you, my dear friends, to express my extreme displeasure with the manner in which you are handling shipping of the 2008 Playoff Tickets.

While all parcel delivery services in New York City suck with equal fervor, now that MLB has entered into a “strategic partnership” with DHL, we are forced to endure their special brand of ineptitude in order to receive our 2008 Playoff Tickets. Last year’s idiocy had me crying openly in Hell’s Kitchen while I tried to track down my tickets (tickets which, I’ll point out, I NEVER GOT TO USE).

This year, however, you have achieved a new paradigm of we-don’t-give-a-f-about-our-fans-ness.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

6: BOOGIE NIGHTS.

Mets v Cubs
9/23/08

I confess that I did not head off for tonight’s game feeling the most optimistic ever. This wasn’t helped by getting on the 7 at Times Square only to find the car invaded by Cubs fans; within 3 minutes of getting on the train and sitting down, I heard discussion of 1) the goat 2) the black cat and 3) Moises Alou.

By the time the train came out of the tunnel, I was already being trash talked by Texy via Twitter:
Texy: “Go Cubs Go! Go Cubs Go! Hey Chicago, whatta ya say? Cubs are gonna win today!”
Me: “Eddie Vedder called. Don’t quit your day job.”

I CAN’T EXPLAIN.

I’m going to immediately love any pitcher who uses the Who as their intro music. And I was willing to believe, to look at an inspirational quote from Scott frickin’ Schoeneweis, of all people (even though we already know that HE CONSORTS WITH THE ENEMY) and think that the Mets were going to come home and put their noses to the grindstone and just make it happen, even with a rookie pitcher and a team dragging in from a catastrophic road trip.

And I was still optimistic last night, and feeling slightly better, well enough to eat my soup while watching the game even after I said I was going straight to bed, sending inspirational text messages to TBF, sitting in the upper deck, when Delgado got home on that wild pitch. That was the kind of thing I wanted to see this week.

You can probably guess when I turned the TV off and went to bed.

I have a bag full of long sleeves and polar fleece and wool socks and gloves and I am heading out to Shea tonight and plan on being there the rest of the week.

Really.

P.S. MOISES ALOU, STAY OUT OUT OF THE DUGOUT, YOU MIGHT BE CONTAGIOUS

Monday, September 22, 2008

FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING.

I find myself having a lot of respect for Scott Schoeneweis right now:

“I don’t know what else to say,” Schoeneweis said. “I really don’t. There’s just nothing more to say. There’s no excuses. There’s nothing to say. Just win. If we score 10 and we give up nine in the bullpen and win the game—we win the game. That’s what it is right now. There’s no time to be weary. There’s no time for anything. I’ll pitch every day the rest of the season straight through. I’ll do whatever I can.”

[via]

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN.

[Now you’re going to have that song in your head all day, aren’t you?]

It’s only in a situation like a playoff game, or any game that counts, that I’ll countenance that song. Any other time it would mean an obvious wince, a groan, some sort of wisecrack exchanged with TBF. But as I have learned, the cheesiest, most awful songs in any other situation become something else in a playoff situation.

I was heartbroken after yesterday’s loss. I couldn’t even listen past the 8th inning. I know part of it is being sick and worn out and tired but I want to start crying like a 12-year-old when I think of the team blowing this season as well.

And while I agree with my compatriot SNK over at You Can’t Script Baseball, I understand people who might be inclined to boo. Part of my despondency is just not knowing where I’m going to be next year. That the entire plan of getting into Shea and getting TBF into Citi Field was almost pointless. I say “almost” because if I hadn’t done it, I wouldn’t be here right now. But, still. I hurt for the people who’ve had a Saturday plan for the last 15 years and are out in the cold, too. The greed overshadows everything, just like the walls of Citi Field overshadow the outfield now. The issues are intertwined.

I’m just sick, right? That’s the only reason I’m feeling so bad about all of this, right?

Sunday, September 21, 2008

FEVER DOG.

The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I worked late Wednesday, and by the time I got to Thursday afternoon, I knew I should be home in bed… which is where I was by 9pm that night. I haven’t much moved from there since then. I’ve seen and heard bits and pieces of games, but not anything all the way through: I start, but then don’t finish, or I decide not to watch at all and go to sleep, only to wake up an hour or two later and can’t get back to sleep and stumble out to camp out on the couch with TBF. This, hopefully, explains the extended absence here.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

NO WORDS.

Friday, September 12, 2008

SHEA FOR SALE.

Today is proving to be an odd day. I will post more about this later, but for now, let me talk about this list I just got.

Someone forwarded me a copy of the listing - including prices - of every single bit of Shea Stadium the Mets plan to put on sale. I am not sure about the ethics of posting the entire list (not to mention it’s ridiculously long, and I’d like to not be on the blacklist forever), but I wanted to post some of my favorites.

Note: I do not know where you can buy this stuff. So please do not ask.

Ticket Window Sign, E-3 $50.00
Topps Starting Lineup Cards - Damion Easley $200.00
Shea Stadium is a Smoke Free Facility Sign $300.00
Gate A Entry Sign (3 pieces) $2,500.00
Low Clearance - No Forklifts $50.00
No Autographs in Tunnel Sign $200.00
No Visitors Sign (Outside Umpires Room) - 3rd Base Side $75.00
Video Surveillance Beyond this point Sign Tunnel, Hall to Offices $75.00

GOT ‘EM.

To: MG
From: TBF
Subject: We have tickets to the last game

In the end, about $15 more than I wanted to pay but I think it will be worth it for the Upper Box and not having idiots in front of us all game.

I know, you’re all saying ‘WTF?’, and my own Magic Number over there on the left was predicated on us going to this game. We never really worried about it; we can get into anything; we kept saying ‘worst case scenario we wait half an inning outside and the prices will drop,’ TBF didn’t want to pay $100 a ticket a few months ago. But the prices aren’t dropping, people are paying $270 for UR section 42 row V, and we were getting a little nervous.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

9/11.

My mother turns 70 today. Ever since 2001, she’s said she doesn’t have a birthday any more. But, I think when you turn 70, you get a birthday.

So I made her a web page over at charity:water, which is a pretty incredible organization, and so far, we’ve raised over $300 for the charity, from friends and associates. If you felt like doing something nice today, maybe you have a spare $5 lying around. If not, at least check out the page and learn about the charity. If nothing else the story will make you feel good. And, Mom’s sure getting a kick out of it.

Apologies for the non-Mets content.