Saturday Night Baseball

Baseball Dreams by senatork

When Ken Griffey Jr abruptly retired in the middle of the 2010 MLB season, in addition to marking the end of a Hall of Fame career, it also marked the end of the last active player that guest starred in the 1992 all time classic Simpsons episode "Homer at the Bat". The squad of major league ringers Mr. Burns assembled to play for the plant softball team contained an absolutely amazing collection of Hall of Famers, MVPs, and All-Stars.

When the likely retirement of another former Red, Scott Rolen (who as of now remains a free agent for the 2013 season), becomes official, it will also mark the end of the last active player that guest starred in the above, not so classic "Baseball Dreams" sketch from the Helen Hunt hosted December 13, 1997 episode of Saturday Night Live. Although, by virtue of the obvious needs of the sketch, the group of MLB talent assembled pales in comparison to "Homer at the Bat", it does surpass the former in terms of sheer numbers and depth of players.

The sketch itself is a simplistic one note affair and actually isn't all that funny. The whole thing would have been fairly forgettable if it weren't for the impressive drop ins from all the random major league players comprising a sort of bizarre tableau of mediocre to good late 90s baseball talent. I am utterly fascinated by the casting and wished I knew what kind of behind the scenes machinations when into getting everyone for this sketch. Since the premise of the sketch required a gradual decline in quality of players from the best to the worst, I would say that casting this sketch may have been more difficult than the Simpsons who had the narrower task of just rounding up superstars. To make the sketch work SNL had to pick an accurate sample of unheralded everyday pros, veterans, journeymen, and not yet established youngsters. So how did they end up with these 15 players from 9 different teams? Was there some player's union event going on in NY at the time or did they specifically fly everyone in for this one bit? Did any of the players being introduced in the bottom half know that they were supposed to be viewed as relative scrubs?

Breaking down the lineup in order of appearance:

Todd Hundley - Since the first player to appear is supposed to be a "star" that Danny would be excited to meet, the former Mets backstop was an ideal selection. First off he's part of the local team  and he had just come off his second consecutive All-Star year in 1997. Prior to that in 1996 he set the single season record for home runs by a catcher with 41. These two years were by far his best stretch in an otherwise good but not great career. Additionally, Hundley comes off as a pretty decent actor (it's a relative distinction since the whole sketch is a master class in wooden line delivery), which maybe why the writers gave him more lines.

Scott Rolen - The aforementioned Rolen is a nice progression. He had an impressive Rookie of the Year winning season playing 3B for the Phillies in 1997. Overall, Rolen had by far the best career out of all the players featured. His supporters would have an unlikely but not laughable argument for his induction into the Hall of Fame. His comic timing however could use a lot of work.

Mark Wohlers - Wohlers had just completed his third successful year as the Braves closer, racking up 33 saves in 1997 for another first place Atlanta team. He was an All-Star the year before so we're still in the realm of quality players. He is by far the best actor of the bunch and he seems to have been given the most lines because of it. From a historic perspective, his calling Danny a "fag" predate future Braves closer John Rocker's infamous politically incorrect Sports Illustrated interview in 1999. Unfortunately for Wohlers, he suffered a psychological block the following season that rendered him unable to control his pitches (the dreaded Steve Blass disease), essentially  derailing his career. Could the stress of his cameo on SNL have been responsible?

Marty Cordova and Jeff Fassero - Now we start to get players introduced in waves. Marty Cordova was still considered a potential star, he was AL Rookie of the Year in 1995 and had a career year in 1996. His injury plagued 1997 would be more representative of the rest of his career. He only gets one line. Jeff Fassero on the other hand is the worst performer of the whole bunch, his introduction of the next group of guys is particularly robotic; also it appears he can't be bothered to wear a full uniform (pretty sloppy Fassero). Baseball wise, 1997 was probably one of his best seasons, he went 16-9 with a 3.61 ERA. He is the oldest player of the bunch at 34, but he managed to outlast many of the other others, hanging around until 2006 and retiring at 43.

Gregg Jefferies, Rondell White, and Mark Grudzielanek - At this point Danny doesn't want or care about any more ballplayers, particularly Expos. Greg Jefferies was a serviceable outfielder for the Phillies at this point in his career, which was clearly on the downturn. He did fine as the spokesmen of the trio. CF Rondell White actually had probably his best year for the Expos in 1997. He may have one of the shorter lines but I thought he nailed it. Expos 2B Mark Grudzielanek also had himself a fine 1997 (apparently he led the league in doubles with 54) and was a year removed from an All-Star appearance. I feel White and Grudzielanek could have moved up above Cordova and Fassero but their lack of exposure playing for a fading Expos franchise (both of them don't even have full uniforms, White is just in a t-shirt for crying out loud) held them back. At least Grudzielanek got his choice moment with Helen Hunt ("I'm Mark Grudzielanek"), despite the lack of audience response I thought it was one of the funnier moments.

Todd Zeile, Russ Davis, and Cliff Floyd - One of the all time great baseball journeymen, Todd Zeile was entering the middle part of his career which would lead to him eventually playing for 11 different teams before he was through. At the time he had just finished up a productive full season as the Dodgers third baseman. A young Cliff Floyd was still a year away from begining his productive years as a full time OF, however he was the only person there from the then current World Series champions, the Marlins. Both Zeile and Floyd get minimal lines, though I appreciate Floyd's efforts to sell "where's the food". Russ Davis had just finished his first of three aggressively decent years as the Mariners' starting third baseman (a lot of representation for the hot corner in this sketch). He is one of three players who don't even get a single line in.

David Howard and Mike Sweeney - Poor Howard and Sweeney don't get any lines to introduce themselves or even adequate face time. Howard was just a unassuming utility player who fit well at this point in the sketch. Sweeney was just an underutilized young catcher and DH, however he would break out in 1999 and would go on to have great stretch for the Royals in the early 00s as their first baseman, making 5 All-Star teams in 6 years. Interesting fact, according the records Howard and Sweeney were teammates on the Royals in 1997 and Howard signed with the Cardinals as a free agent on Dec 4, just 9 days before the sketch.

Gerald Williams and Pedro Borbón - Mediocre utility outfielder Gerald Williams seems about right to play one of the final pair, though I think he had a better career than David Howard. Like Howard, Williams changed teams right before the sketch aired. After spending 1997 with the Brewers he was traded on December 11th to the Braves for Chad Fox. His introduction is about as uninspired as his play. Pedro Borbón (son of 70s Reds relief pitcher Pedro Borbón) was an all together forgettable relief pitcher of little consequence, quite apt to be one of the last introduced. I think he was playing up his lack of english abilities, his bio says he went to high school and college in the the US so it's not like he's some fresh off the boat Cuban defector or anything. That said, it was quite believable so perhaps he may be the best performer of all. 

To close I just have a few additional random points to make:

• Helen Hunt has hardly aged at all in the 15 plus years since this sketch aired, amazing.
• What team does Danny actually support? His room contains a confusing collection of both Mets and Yankee pennants plus a poster of Ken Griffey Jr.. Is he some weirdo who considers himself a fan of the game of baseball in general?
• I am surprised that MLB would allow such a sketch to be aired. The main message is that baseball players are all uniformly terrible role models who are preoccupied only with drinking, smoking, girls, and partying; and any positive messages they say are just empty, banal, boilerplate.
• Todd Zeile, Cliff Floyd, and Gerald Williams would all end up playing for the Mets in the 00s. Also Greg Jefferies was a former Met at the time of the sketch.
• As a kid I thought they also trucked in real basketball players for that final punchline.

The Foot Fist Way

The main subject of this post may be a little belated, but i figured better a late post than no post at all.

For those who haven't been aware already, last Sunday June 5th marked the twelfth anniversary of the infamous on-field fight between Chan Ho Park and Tim Belcher where Park unexpectedly attempted to jump kick Belcher in the midsection. Sure it's at best a minor footnote in modern MLB history, and probably even a footnote in modern MLB on-field brawling history (its obscurity was quite apparent when I could only find one mildly racist clip of the fight in a foreign language on some random website); but it will always have a special place in my memories of Chan Ho Park.

The current MLB baseball season is the first since I started following baseball around 1994, coincidentally Park's rookie year, that he isn't in the majors. As the first South Korean player in major league history, for years Chan Ho Park was South Korean baseball and as a fellow Korean and long time fan, I have thoroughly enjoyed rooting for him and watching his funky pioneering seventeen season journey through the big leagues from the good (his successful early years with the Dodgers, 2001 All Star Selection, becoming the winningest Asian pitcher in MLB history) to the bad (his bust Texas Ranger years, giving up 2 grand slams to Fernando Tatis in the same inning, seeing him in that Phillies uniform) and everything in between.

I think the fight falls somewhere in the "in between" category. As supposedly bad-ass as jump kicking someone in a on field fight sounds and the impressive look of the still frames; as the video shows he was sort of sloppy kicking while running away and it really didn't connect too well (it definitely wasn't Liu Kang's bicycle kick). As one would suspect with a fight between two pitchers, the whole affair was brief and mildly lame with Park at best claiming a tie with Belcher. Still, when I first heard about it and saw it, I couldn't deny a slight bit of pride at the whole thing. Sure it reinforced stereotypes about Asians, but I totally dug the fact that it was the lone Korean player that was breaking out the jump kick on Tim Belcher (who looked like a bit like a cracker and allegedly incited Park with racist comments), straight representing on Sports Center.

Tune in next April when the Chan Ho Park nostalgia tour will cover the two year anniversary of his overly frank explanation of his 2010 opening day pitching problems.

J'accuse!: The Ending of "The Scout"

Purely obligatory (and frankly unnecessary) "spoiler alert": For all those people who have "watch the 1994 Albert Brooks/Brendan Fraser baseball comedy 'The Scout'" on their bucket lists, perhaps you should sit this post out (and seriously question why you have this on your bucket list). For everyone else on the fence, I just want to note that it's a pretty shitty ending anyway (hence the blog post) so you're really not missing out on much by having it "spoiled".

Obviously the biggest story in baseball right now is unfortunate Detroit Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga losing his historic perfect game bid yesterday due to an unambiguously blown call by the first base umpire (boy did Griffey really pick the wrong night to retire). This would have been the 21st perfect game in the history of Major League Baseball, the 3rd in the last 25 days, and the 2nd in 4 days. Try as I might at this time I still cannot muster the proper perspective yet to truly appreciate the fantastic odds of having two (almost three) perfect games, a confluence of circumstances so rare that in the hundreds of thousands of games of baseball played in the past 130 plus years it has only happened 20 times, in such a brief span of time.

This ludicrous rash of recent perfect games also reminded reminded me of the above pictured mediocre mid-90s baseball movie: "The Scout". As a kid, I actually liked "The Scout", it didn't reach the upper tier heights of 90's kid baseball fantasies like "Rookie of the Year" or "Angels in the Outfield" but I found it most definitely watchable. Brenden Fraser's usual affable mimbo charm, Albert Brooks playing the same self-obsessed, neurotic, poor-man's Woody Allen character he's played for the last 30 years, the multiple Oscar winning talents of the inexplicably present Diane Wiest, the ass load of baseball player cameos; all these combined to at least create something one wouldn't mind watching for an hour and a half. I'd say it's somewhere below "Mr. Baseball" and above watching 3 half hour episodes of "Arli$$" which sort of follows this formula (replacing Brooks for the even lower quality Robert Wuhl, but upgrading Wiest with the foxy Sandra Oh).

The thing about "The Scout" however is that the more one follows and learns about real-life baseball, the more insultingly ridiculous the movie becomes. Obviously sports movies are given some degree of artistic license and the classic kids baseball movie get a free pass because they're obviously for kids (although "Little Big League" comes off looking like Ken Burns' "Baseball" when compared to "The Scout"), but often a movie like "The Scout" stretches the bounds of plausibly to the point where you wonder why they even went through the trouble of incorporating real sports teams and players and setting it in our universe. I could probably write an even longer, more detailed "J'accuse" about the entire movie but it's really the ending which provides a brilliantly ridiculous climax built upon a mountain of flimsiness.

Unfortunately no clips outside of the trailer exist for the film, a testiment to either it's forgettable mediocrity or Twentieth Century Fox's skills at downplaying their film mistakes. We'll have to rely on my descriptions based on my memories built over many a repeat watchings of it on Comedy Central. To quickly summarize the film, Albert Brooks plays the titular baseball scout for the Yankees who after his latest can't miss prospect spectacularly washes out in his debut, is fired and ends up in some far off amateur baseball league in Mexico. It is there that he find Brendan Fraser, who is essentially an invisible baseball dominating robot who literally strikes everybody out with his consistent 100+ mph pitches and also homers in every at bat (I mean he's obviously supposed to be really good, but he borders on the absurdly superhuman). Of course there's a slight catch, apparently Brendan Fraser's character has some deep mental issues, I think some childhood abuse trauma (they really do a poor job of explaining it) that psychologist Dianne Wiest is hired to help with but really does nothing throughout the film aside from looking concerned.

In the movie's second most ridiculous sequence, Albert Brooks bring Fraser to America where he (as an unemployed, failed scout) manages to set up an individual tryout for Fraser in Yankee Stadium with with every MLB GM showing up to evaluate and eventually bid on this nobody from Mexico with absolutely no known past. In addition, he gets Keith Hernandez and Brett Saberhagen for him to strike out and hit towering homers against respectively. Somehow striking out a 41-year old Keith Hernandez who had been retired for 4 years at the time and hitting dingers off Brett Saberhagen, coming off his infamous "spraying bleach at reporters" season with the 103 loss Mets (in an even year no less!), impresses the GMs so much that they erupt in a huge bidding war. The Yankees end up winning by giving Fraser the biggest contract in baseball history (by far the most accurate part of the film) with the crazy stipulation that he will start the first game of the World Series if the Yankee make it.

Against all odds, the pre-dynasty era Yankees make it to the Fall Classic (mildly unbelievable at the time) against the Cardinals and Fraser is called in to pitch (which I'm sure to the resentment and disdain of no one on the team). Fraser's ambiguous mental demons initially prevent him from starting but eventually after a heart-to-heart with Brooks he makes his debut and pitches THE MOST RIDICULOUS BASEBALL GAME EVER!

Now there have been perfect games (even one in the World Series), there have been 20 strike out games, and pitchers occasionally hit home runs. Given all the scenes of Frasor's dominant baseball skills and the events that transpired in the film already I would not have found it too unbelievable that he does all those things in the game; which he does. What really breaks the camels back, obliterates the camels back, grinds the remains of the camel into a fine mist of bone and tissue, is the manner in which he does it. In addition to providing the only 2 runs of the game on a home run, he throws a perfect game by striking out all 27 batter on 81 consecutive strikes. So he never threw a ball and no one even managed to make contact with a pitch. He essentially obsoletes the game of baseball. In addition why didn't the writers just made him pitch to himself? Or have him strike out three people in succession with one slow pitch as well? Or catch a home run by following it to the top of the Empire State Building and throwing his glove in the air? All these options are just as cartoonish and impossible as this perfect perfect game he just threw.

As if the whole thing wasn't already enough of a farce, the film manages to somehow outdo itself once again by dementedly trying to instill suspense and tension in the last at-bat against the dangerous...Ozzie Smith ("Go crazy, folks!"). The same Ozzie Smith who was elected to the Hall of Fame overwhelmingly on the strength of his defense. The same Ozzie Smith who had 28 career home runs. The same Ozzie Smith with a career .262 batting average. The same Ozzie Smith who was 39 at the time and in the twilight of his career. He was a bigger threat to break up the perfect game with a bunt single than with anything else. I understand that the mid-90s Cardinals weren't exactly stacked with mashers but the producers really couldn't have gotten a slightly more plausible hitting threat ("Hard Hittin'" Mark Whiten? Ray Lankford? Todd Zeile?)?

You would think that director Michael Ritchie who also directed the "The Bad News Bears", a classic baseball movie with a notably unconventional ending, would have objected to such a ridiculously contrived conclusion. Maybe the ending was intentional, like some high-concept, absurdist, take on the typical Hollywood happy endings of sports movies that subversively mocked the concept by taking it to its grotesque extreme. Or maybe Jason Donald really did beat the throw. For a completely implausible sports movie ending that somehow manages to outdo an already implausible sports movie, all I can say is: "J'accuse!"

A Piece of the Pie

Well, another All-Star Game, another annoyingly close American League victory. Thirteen years of NL winlessness (we'll always have that tie game in 2002). It makes me yearn for the NL glory days when Jeff Conine was winning All-Star game MVPs and Ozzie Smith would be doing backflips.

While the game was ostensibly close yet strangely unexciting, the other major competitive events of the night could have been found in the ubiquitous Domino's commercials, like the one above, detailing the escalating back and forth battle of words between various regional Domino's factions in support of their particular "American Legends" pie.

All I have to say is shame on you Domino's.

These are trying times for the American people. This nation is currently struggling through such adversities like an extended economic recession, continuing conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, international threats from abroad, the death of Michael Jackson, and the impending August release of "GI Joe:Rise of Cobra". It is during these trying times that we need to put our personal differences aside as American citizens and recognize that it is only through cooperation and teamwork that we can bring back prosperity.

Domino's partisan pizza rhetoric is definitely not what this country needs. Instead of the "Cali Chicken Bacon Ranch" loving residents of Los Angeles trading insults and ugly stereotypes with the "Memphis BBQ Chicken" patrons of Memphis or the Philly Cheese Steak" eating residents of Philadelphia engaging in verbal fisticuffs with "Pacific Veggie" fans of Venice, they should all learn to respect and embrace their unique nuanced differences and realize that in the end they are all disgusting Domino's pizzas.

Rule of Three: 90s MLB Kids' Fantasy Movies

My continuing series of explorations into esoteric pop culture triplicates brings us today to the mid 90s where a trio of classic kids baseball films came to fill me and the rest of my generation with completely unrealistic expectations for success in Major League Baseball. Of course the three films I'm referring to are "Rookie of the Year", "Little Big League", and "Angels in the Outfield"; three movies with surprisingly bizarre similarities in themes and structure that go beyond the obvious "kids involved the major leagues" concept to almost make it a genre onto itself.

Breaking each movie down individually based on my disturbingly detailed memory of the films and a little help from the Wik, it becomes quite apparent that these films shared more than just the main unifying concept. Also, before I go ahead I just want to note that yes, I am ignoring that other seminal childhood baseball movie "The Sandlot." But before anyone cries foul (Get it? Baseball? Foul? Hilarious...) the movie is really all about kids playing baseball rather than kids playing/being involved with Major League Baseball. By the time the movie gets to the majors the two friends have grown up, so there's really no novelty in that. The only other kid friendly 90s movie I can think of is the 1996 Matt LeBlanc, sports monkey classic "Ed" which is left off the list for obvious reasons.

I guess I should mention that there will probably some spoilers. Although come on, it's been almost 15 years, unless you're currently under ten (do your parents know you're reading this blog?) you've either seen these films or have no real intention of seeing them in the future.

Rookie of the Year (1993)

Basics: 12 year old Little Leaguer Henry Rowengartner discovers that the tendons in his recently broken arm have healed in an unexpected manner, leaving him with the ability to throw triple digit fastballs. Under much media scrutiny, he is signed by the Chicago Cubs. He leads the last place team to a final deciding game at the end of the season for a playoff spot, and, according to the ring shown at the end an eventual World Series title (thus clearly landing the film in the category of pure fantasy/science fiction). He eventually loses his talent but happily returns to being a kid again.

Broken Home: Father abandoned the family, raised by his independent, floater throwing, single mother.

Supporting Friend Characters That Tell the Protagonist How Much They've Changed: He's got two of them.

Baseball Player on the Team who becomes a replacment Father Figure: Aging starting pitcher Chet "Rocket" Steadman played by Gary Busey who helps Henry adjust to the intimidating situation of being a 12 year old MLB pitcher. It's implied that he may possibly become a literal father figure based on the growing relationship between him and Henry's mom. Although having Gary Busey as your father figure may not be the best idea.

Evil Player that Appears as the Final Out: The slovenly NY Met and John Kruk look-a-like, "Butch" Heddo who originally hits a home run against Henry in his first game and comes back as the crucial final out in the final game of the season right after Henry loses his ability to throw heat. Fortunately Butch can't handle the off speed softball floater.

Evil Non-Playing Nemesis: Henry's mother's douchy boyfriend Jack who acts as Henry's manager. He greedily exploits Henry for profit all through the film but eventually gets kicked out after attempting to sell Henry to the Yankees.

Incredulous In-Game Commentator: The late great John Candy.

Little Big League (1994)

Basics: 12 year old Little Leaguer Billy Heywood discovers that his grandfather has died, leaving him with ownership of the Minnesota Twins. Under much media scrutiny, he fires the current manager and assigns himself manager of the Minnesota Twins. He manages the last place team to a final deciding game at the end of the season for a playoff spot, which they surprisingly lose. He eventually resigns from the team but happily returns to being a kid again.

Broken Home: Father died at a young age, raised by his independent, single mother.

Supporting Friend Characters That Tell the Protagonist How Much They've Changed: Possibly the same two goobers from the previous movie.

Baseball Player on the Team who becomes a Father Figure: Star first baseman Lou Collins played by Timothy Busfield who helps Billy adjust to the intimidating situation of being a 12 year old MLB manager. He basically becomes a literal father figure after Billy allows him to propose to his mother despite not hitting a home run to win the game as stipulated prior to the last game.

Evil Player Nemesis that Appears as the Final Out: Real life MLB star, and then Seattle Mariner, Ken Griffey Jr. who breaks the hearts of children everywhere by hitting the go-ahead home run at the beginning of the crucial final game and then robbing Timothy Busfield of the potential game winning homer with a spectacular catch at the end.

Evil Non-Playing Nemises: Hard-ass ex-manager George O'Farrell played by the always hard-ass Dennis Farina. His poor managing skills and mistreatment of the players is the impetuous for Billy's decision to fire him and step in. He possibly returns as the manager of the rival Mariners but I'm not quite sure on that.

Incredulous In-Game Commentator: Real-life Twins announcer John Gordon who, for some reason, had to play a fictional version of himself under a different name.

Angels in the Outfield (1994)

Basics: 12 year old baseball fan Roger discovers that his father has decided to abandon him in foster care, leaving him with the sarcastic response that they'll be a family again when the last place Angels win the pennant. Incapable of understanding sarcasm, Roger prays to God to help the Angels out so he could have a family again. God sends actual angels to secretly help the team cheat. Roger convinces manager George Knox (Danny Glover in full "I'm too old for this shit mode") to follow his advice. However soon people pick up on this seemingly crazy strategy and under much media scrutiny, Roger reveals his incredulous secret. The Angels stop helping the team but they still win the final deciding game at the end of the season for a playoff spot anyway and he happily returns to being a kid again.

Broken Home: Father leaves, raised by independent willed, foster parent (the always independent and motherly Brenda Flicker).

Supporting Friend Characters That Tell the Protagonist How Much They've Changed: His adorable black friend J.P.

Baseball Player on the Team who becomes a Father Figure: Aging starting pitcher Mel Clark played by Tony Danza who ends up defending Roger and George and rallies the team around their cause. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to him it is revealed to Roger that he will be dead in 6 months so George ends up becoming the literal father figure by actually adopting both Roger and J.P.

Evil Player Nemises That Appears as the Final Out: Real life MLB semi-star Carney Lansford as the "intimidating" White Sox hitter that Tony Danza has to get out sans angel to win the game.

Evil Non-Playing Nemesis: Skeptical atheist in-game commentator Ranch Wilder, who aside from being a long time nemesis of Knox, almost ruins everything after reporting on the implausible use of Angels and jeopardizing Knox's job. Not as blatantly evil as the others in my opinion. Wasn't he just being a responsible sports journalist?

Incredulous In-Game Commentator: Double duty, see above.



One interesting note, all three films came out during the one year stretch just prior to the 1994 baseball strike. In fact, "Angels in the Outfield" debuted roughly a month before the season was shutdown. That sort of really knocks the wind out of the whole "magic of baseball" and "love of the game" messages expounded by all three films. Adding together the ill will generated post strike, the overall taint of the steroids era, the overtaking by football as the most nation's most popular sport, and the generally increased cynicism of 12 year old children today, it's fairly certain that such movies are truly a relic of our childhoods.

A Farewell Letter to Shea Stadium

Dear Shea Stadium,

For the third year in a row you have become the sight of another demoralizing, down right soul crushing end of the New York Mets season. In a way this may have been the worst yet.

Having the terminally light hitting Yadier Molina and, the living embodiment of baseball mediocrity itself, Jeff Suppan power the barely over .500 Cardinals over a far more talented Mets team in game 7 was bitter. The protracted month long agony and pain of suffering one of the biggest collapses in MLB history, ending with an embarrassing 8-1 blow out by the Marlins on the final day and missing the playoffs was even worse. However, somehow this year for me seemed to top that previous low. At least in the previous year it was a complete free fall by every aspect of the team from hitting to pitching. It was a fairly forgone conclusion by the time Tom Glavine was pulled after allowing his 7th run of the first inning. This year, on the other hand, hurt more because the idea of the Mets pulling it out in the end seemed so much more possible.

The team wasn't competing against a team like the Phillies, whose complimentary surge ahead in the opposite direction of the Mets day by day further rubbed salt in the wounds. This year was a race to the bottom with the reeling Brewers of who could flop less in the final month. There was also the benefit of the universal law of averages and karma; there couldn't have been any way the season would have end on the last day to the same team under the same circumstances. In fact things were actually going fairly well until around an inning or so before the end of the season when Wes Helms hit that go ahead homer. It was also right around that time the Brewers tagged Bob Howry (you know the guy whom the Mets couldn't hit to bring home Dan Murphy from third with no outs in the bottom of the ninth a few games back?) for the 2 go ahead runs in their 8th. So for 161 and 7/9 games I actually thought the Mets could succeed. Unlike last year when I turned the TV off in disgust after the first inning, I painfully held out hope and watched in dire silence like everyone else until the final out. That's one of the reasons why this was the worst yet.

The other reason is that this terrible, gloomy affair will be my final image of Shea Stadium baseball.

For my entire baseball fan life I have watched all but three or so baseball games with you. I know you didn't get much of a send off, considering all the excessive pageantry people gave to that other stadium across town. However, I want you to know that it'll take a good long while before watching a baseball game will feel right without sitting in an uncomfortable, rickety orange chair, surrounded by concrete, in a perfectly symmetrical, cookie-cutter, mutli-purpose, semi-doughnut.

If you ask me I don't really understand what the big push for a stadium was all about. I was perfectly content with watching perennially disappointing Mets baseball in our current set up until all the outside blue paint fades away. You're a perfectly fine stadium for watching a ball game. It's not like chunks of you were falling off a la the Kingdome or you were slowly sinking into the ground or infested with rats, or built on top on an Indian burial ground. Sure your once futuristic architecture and features have become outdated in that sort of Logan's Run like manner but there's nothing really wrong with that in my book. In fact, I suspect in about fifty years or so that look will be cool again and there'll be a whole new wave of stadiums opting for that "Retro" 60s-70s cookie cutter stadium look.

Unfortunately, though, the unrelenting parade of human progress marches on with no regard for the hurt feelings of a plain, unassuming, middle aged, stadium. Come next September I'll be watching the latest collapse in that gaudy, faux-nostalgic, corporate licensed, modern monstrosity and you will most likely make up the auxiliary parking lot. All I want so say is that you were a fine stadium and despite the relatively smaller amount of classic moments and history, for me it was always a special occasion when I made it out. At least we'll have the old stubs and the memories.

Your faithful patron,
Victor


P.S. My one optimistic hope for CitiField is that they find a way to eliminate or at least significantly reduce that burning peanut smell that hits you right as you step in front of the main gates.