The home team lost, but that’s not all that happened during yesterday’s game at Citi Field.
Although the stadium opened in 2009, I hadn’t yet seen it. I’ve gone through the motions of ordering tickets online countless times during the last two years, but always bailed before completing the purchase. The high ticket prices, the outrageous concession costs, and the hundred and eleven mile distance were some of the reasons why I always opted to watch the game on TV instead.
Not this time.
I decided to make it a special day, so I bought the best tickets that I could get my hands on (fifth row behind the visitor’s dugout), called my brother, Raoul, to confirm the plan, took the day off from work, and headed to the game.
The 6 – 2 final score was a disappointment, but it wasn’t a total loss. In New York, people watching is also entertainment. Before the game, I huddled with dozens of other miscreants in the designated smoking area. We were herded into the confined space like cattle by a dutiful attendant. From there, I could look outside of the stadium to the street below. That’s when I saw this guy.
This is one of the many things that I miss about New York. It’s a city where the bizarre is commonplace, so a person dressed up like this barely gets noticed.
By the eighth inning, when the outcome of the game was no longer in doubt, many of the fans headed for the exits. Others fans took advantage of the opportunity and filled the seats in front of us. The seat fillers included three guys who, for some reason, decided that they were going to heckle the National’s third base coach, Bo Porter. They focussed their ire on him as if he was responsible for the loss. Thankfully, they only did this for one half inning.
I recorded about 20 seconds of the tail end of their performance.
My brother and I only started laughing when, in typical New York fashion, the folks behind us began to make fun of the hecklers.
It started to rain during the ninth inning. Raoul asked if I wanted to leave.
“No, this is a perfect way to end the day,” I said, as the raindrops hitting the bill of my cap made the washout of the home opener seem complete.
It was only while I was going through the photos for this post that I realized that I had left yesterday’s promotional item, a Mr. Met bobblehead doll, in my brother’s car. Distraught at having forgotten my gift, I sent him a text. His response was chilling.
Leave $50,000 under the oak tree by mom’s house and you’ll get Mr. Met back.
Don’t call the cops!
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Ray Colon has written 136 posts on Ray's Blog.
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{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
It’s not unlike San Francisco. The Giants had their opening game on Friday. The diversity and acceptance is what I like best living on the outer edges of the country. Don’t you? Anyway, the photos are great, btw.
Hi Brenda,
Yes, I suppose that big cities share this level of diversity. Whenever I make it back to NYC, I’m reminded of this. I used to see the most peculiar things on a daily basis. It’s interesting that cities are thought of as cold and indifferent places, but I find that I can strike up a conversation with stranger much more easily in NY than I can with folks in the suburbs.
Thanks, these were the few photos that came out okay. I never remember to take enough of them.
Ray
I hadn’t thought about that until now, but you are correct, easy to talk to a fellow stranger in the City vs. the small towns. I am always striking up a converstaion, in line at the grocery store, at the local Starbucks, etc., I never know what will come of it, or who I might meet.
Ha, love the ransom demand.
I’ve received follow-up ransom demands, including one where he’s bound in duct tape.