Here’s a dose of nostalgia for you: Random photos from the last game at Shea Stadium 9/28/2008.
The Wheel of Time turns, and Mets seasons come and pass, leaving games that become legend. Legends fade to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called 2010, an Age yet to come, an age long past, a press conference started in Flushing. The conference was not the beginning. But it was a beginning.
Okay, the quote barely makes sense, but the cyclical nature of the Mets history reminded me of Robert Jordan’s epic series. The Mets are again faced with a reboot of sorts, shedding some dead weight and redirected the franchise that has run off course.
So far I feel Fred and Jeff Wilpon said the right things. I’m sure some of it’s probably saying what we want to hear, but they’ve given the right answers and seem to have the right goals and motivation. I’ll take it. Words are all we have right now, until after the World Series when we can start signing guys, and even that’s nothing until we play, and win, some games.
This season wsn’t a total waste for me. The Mets made a lot of strides in appeasing and interfacing with fans and bloggers. They created a Twitter account and started interacting. They invited a group of bloggers ‘into the fold’ and gave us an opportunity to stand on the field and talk to players during batting practice. They’re aware that there are a lot of intelligent people that spend a lot of time focusing on the Mets and thinking about them in detail. Giving us that opportunity this year was an amazing thrill and one I’m extremely thankful for. It also gave me a chance to meet some of the fellow bloggers that I’ve been interacting with for a while.
You may have noticed, or not, that I’ve been posted a lot less. It’s not the Mets, although them being mostly irrelevant for a month didn’t hurt, but me. I’m getting married this weekend and things have been rather hectic. The Mets did not reward me with a wedding present of a NLDS game to miss, and David Wright did not respond to my wedding invitation . I probably won’t be updating much over the next couple of weeks, but I suspect once things settle down I’ll get right back into it. I’ve got some stuff planned in the offseason including some sabermetric debates that I’ve been putting off as well as some trying to match up the title of the blog with the 2011 season and the direction of the team. In other words, a couple of spin posts trying to justify believing the Mets can and will win the World Series in 2011. (Hey, it’s more fun than predicting doom and gloom. Aren’t you tired of that?)
It’s over. Shea Stadium is officially demolished. We all want to equate the stadium to an old friend, maybe one that had seen better days, one that would be sorely missed. To me, the most chilling moment was that last game, that last walk out. All the pictures, all the drive-bys, all the reports since then have felt empty because without baseball Shea was just a building.
Shea Stadium died five months ago. That’s when it contracted that terminal illness that we all knew would take her life within months. Yesterday it finally happened; Shea Stadium took it’s last breath. To me, it was a relief. Finally she’d been put out of her misery, having her innards photographed and displayed for everyone to see, her illness discussed across the world.
I ask that you remember her as she was in her glory days, and not in her sickness. Don’t remember the final tumble of those ramps, or the demolition of the scoreboard. Remember the fans rushing the field after that first championship, even if you weren’t there. Remember Ventura’s Grand Single, Pratt’s home run, the glove that never came down, Seaver, Strawberry, That amazing June comeback against the Braves in the 8th, or whatever your favorite moments were.
She’s in a better place now, in our minds, on our blogs, on our highlight reels. Take a month, or 53 days, to mourn. A new friend waits on the horizon. One you don’t quite know yet, one you’ve only exchanged the briefest of words with. You may be skeptical you can ever get along, or that you’ll ever love again, but you will. It has tough foundations to fill, but rumor is it’s up to the task.
Shea was great on Saturday. And hopefully it’ll be great on Sunday. Hopefully this isn’t actually the last game. Either way I’m going to take 6 zillion pictures. It’s going to be insane, and we won’t know the final of the Brewers game until the middle of the Shea Goodbye ceremony, which will make it all the more nerve wracking.
What Johan did was amazing. Oliver Perez never moved from his spot leaning on the railing in the front of the dug out, and was one of the first out to congratulate him. Here’s hoping he was taking notes.