Back in the winter, when the Mets announced Nas would do a postgame concert after a game in July, I decided that if I went to Citi Field just once this year, a distinct possibility, it would be that one.
Darryl Strawberry
Love the way you lie
I found out about Lance Armstrong being stripped of his Tour De France titles the way I find out about most things nowadays: I opened up Twitter to a bunch of lame jokes and half-baked vitriol. Given the positive effect he’d had on the world, it seemed to me like Armstrong deserved better, perhaps a bit more reverence during his inevitable moment of public disgrace, but why should he be any different than Tiger Woods or anyone else?
Several years ago, when I became convinced the day would come when Armstrong’s empire would eventually be torn down, I bristled at the thought of those who’ve used him as an inspiration during their battles with cancer thinking they’d been worshipping a false idol. I’d long suspected Armstrong hadn’t been on the level about doping; I just preferred if that inconvenient truth never surfaced for the benefit of those who truly needed to believe someone like him truly existed.
Besides, I had my own image of Armstrong to reconcile.
Darryl’s room
I still remember like yesterday the day Darryl Strawberry left the Mets for the Dodgers. I was waiting to get a haircut in fifth grade when the news on the television at the barber shop told me Darryl had jumped ship. I melted out of my chair and sank to my knees.
Straw was my first sports love; it was as if my best friend had moved away. (That actually happened a couple years later, and I don’t recall it hitting me nearly as hard as losing Darryl.)
Going through that was rough when I was 11, but it was a necessary lesson about two years into being a sports fan: Nothing lasts forever. Players leave, teams change, eras come and go. I eventually came to grips with it – years later, I even bought a Dodgers Strawberry jersey.
Now somewhat jaded at 32, with Dan Marino and Patrick Ewing and LeBron James the Cavalier in my rearview mirror, this sort of thing honestly doesn’t faze me anymore. Our teams are inextricable parts of our identities, but the players on them shuttle in and out like friends from various chapters in our lives.
As such, I always just have to shake my head at people’s knee-jerk reactions when a star player leaves for another team. If you’re 12, sure, it’s a crushing blow. But if you’ve been watching sports for any legitimate portion of time, how can’t you know by now this is the way it goes?
The Afternoon Before: Playing out the string
Later than usual with this, and just one thought and some NFL picks. Been a busy week and had some other stuff to write, including one article I’m hoping to see on the Dime Magazine site this week. 
It’s no secret that the older we get, the more jaded we are, especially when it comes to the way we watch sports.
I remember watching the final game in 1991 for a 77-84 post-Strawberry Mets team like it was Game 7 of the NLCS, as David Cone struck out 19 batters and had the chance to tie the record, but retired Dale Murphy with a groundout to end the game.
I remember sitting on the literal edge of my seat on the couch, praying that Cone would dig deep and join Clemens in the record books.
Twenty years later, my perspective has of course changed. The Mets, famously, have never had a pitcher throw a no-hitter, and R.A. Dickey took one into the seventh inning this afternoon. And I opted not to watch it.
The incomparable Carlos Beltran
There are going to be plenty of tributes to personal favorite Carlos Beltran once he’s no longer a member of the Mets, which looks like it’s going to be any day now, but I figure I’d get a slight head start. I’ve never met Beltran, but I have a few anecdotes to share.
And as Kanye West said, people never get the flowers when they can still smell ‘em.
*****
Look closer: Images from fight night at Yankee Stadium
I had the privilege of covering the Yuri Foreman-Miguel Cotto fight for my day job this past Saturday, which I enjoyed a great deal. I hadn’t been ringside for a fight since Floyd Mayweather and DeMarcus Corley way back in 2004, and it was good to be back. It almost made up for all the times I’ve had to work until long after the sun has risen. Almost.
Here are some of my favorite images from the first boxing match at Yankee Stadium in nearly 34 years.
Uncomfortably numb: Coming to grips – again – with Doc’s demons
The saddest part about Dwight Gooden’s latest setback is that I’d like to say it’s not even sad anymore. You see that Doc’s in trouble again, and it does just sort of make sense at this point.
Rearview mirror: A decade’s worth of random “celebrity” encounters
My friends over at Trumbull Island are putting together a pretty extensive and highly entertaining collection of Top Ten lists for the decade, and for the year. As I helped them save Christmas this year, they asked me if I had any contributions, and then suggested “Top random people I met in the ‘00’s.†In truth, I’m sort of like Forrest Gump: I run a lot, I’m decent at ping-pong and I often find myself meeting a lot of random “famous†people.
I think this is supposed to be a Top 10 list, but it looks like that’s not a hard and fast rule for Trumbull, as someone had a Top 71 list. So, I’m offering a Top 16 list. This is in no particular order. Most of them are athletes, but not all of them. Also, I have pictures with most of these people, but I don’t like anyone to know what I look like, so you won’t see any here.
Remembering how Piazza showed us all how to overcome
I write this sentence as I ride by the skyline in Weehawken, and even after eight years, I look at the void in lower Manhattan and still can’t believe it.
Eight years ago today was an unbelievable time for the New York area, though you don’t need me to tell you that. Everyone remembers where they were when they heard the news. I was at home in New Jersey when my father called to tell me to put on CNN – and also to look outside, since we used to have a view of the Twin Towers from our back porch.
What I remember most about what went on around here was the way people came together. For an act that was designed to rip people apart, I find that it actually brought people together. The outpouring of goodwill from people in this area was remarkable. The atmosphere was such that everyone had to band together. For a time, we were all brothers.
Citi of dreams? Depends what you’re looking for
After my third time at Citi Field (two games and a public workout) on Wednesday, it has become apparent that the first-year ball yard is perfect for the Mets of current vintage. By that I mean, the star of the show is most certainly not the team on the field, which is currently rather unremarkable, but rather the field itself. It’s like PNC Park in Pittsburgh, except it’s not nearly as dire a situation for the Mets.
At least so far. When you see the picture at right and wonder if new Knicks draft picks Toney Douglas and Jordan Hill feel like having a summer job, you know things are not going well. I mean, that pitch Hill is throwing probably had a better chance of finding the plate than many that Oliver Perez (seven walks) offered up on Wednesday.
There is zero question that at least at this point, the on-field product takes a back seat to the park experience. And to be certain, it’s great for fans. It’s a perfect place to simply hang with friends, drink a beer and sort-of watch a game.
If you’re a baseball traditionalist who scores a game by hand — probably while wearing a derby hat and smoking a cigar — this park was not designed for you. What they had in mind was a place where you can wait on a line for a “Shake Shack” hamburger while watching the game on a screen on the back of the scoreboard. A place where you can get sushi, if you’re so inclined. (I usually am, but not at a ballgame) A place where you can frequent a center-field beer garden — which, despite the flowery name, is indistinguishable from any other beer vendor.
If you simply want to sit and pay close attention to a baseball game, well, nobody’s stopping you. It’s just that in the back of your mind, you know they didn’t make the park for you. Continue Reading