Citizens Bank Park - Philadelphia Phillies

Citizens Bank Park - 2009

Back of the scoreboard giant Phillies cap - 2010

Halladay on the scoreboard - 2011

Phanatic and Phillies Phans - 2010

     Citizens Bank Park opened in 2004, replacing the multi-purpose Vet with a baseball only facility. Randy Wolf, who I howled at in 2001 during Full Moon Mask Night at Veterans Stadium, threw the first pitch of the first game on April 12. Gone are the infield cutouts and the phony grass, and there is a lovely view of the Philadelphia skyline from most of the seating. I usually sit in the Scoreboard Porch section, from the outfield looking in. (I sometimes have to make a 100 mile drive after a game, and this section is closest to my car.) I can still get a pretty good cheesesteak at the new park, but the old French fryers were obviously lost in the move across the parking lot. Citizen Bank fries are your typical stadium fare - that is, inedible.
     With the new stadium pricing pushing me to the upper decks, I only make the occasional trip to the Philly sports complex these days. To sit in row 4 behind home plate (Sec 224) in 2003, my last game at the Vet, I paid $28. Today in the new place, that seat goes for as much as $800, and I just don't understand how these seats sell. Are the new red bricks all around worth that extra money? 

Veterans Stadium - Philadelphia Phillies

Veterans Stadium Day Game - 1996

Corporate Spy - 1996

Massive Upper Deck - 1996

Old Ticket Window - 2003

12 Games Left - 2003

     
     Though I am a Mets fan from New Jersey, I used to make regular runs to Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia in the 1990's and early 2000's because it was always easy to obtain reasonably priced field level tickets for Phillies games. That was something impossible to do at my home park in New York, and I often made the 100 mile trip down the Jersey Turnpike to see me some National League stars up close. Veterans Stadium was as massive a concrete baseball stadium as was ever built, and it had an artificial turf with those infield cutouts that were an abomination, but I was sorry to see the place torn down and replaced in 2004. I had loads of fun at the Vet. 
     My first night at the old ballpark was way back in 1976, on a college bus trip from my South Jersey campus. Once there, a friend and I endured all kinds of jeers and catcalls as we walked the entire concourse with a banner that read “Stockton State College Loves the Mets!” Our only cheers came from the traveling Stockton Brigade, when we returned to our seats in the right field corner. I remember a more recent night when we fans in the first few rows of seats behind the screen noticed that the home plate umpire had somehow split his pants. The stoic umpire ignored most of the smart ass remarks, continuing to call balls and strikes as if all was well - until one of the fans called out the correct brand of underwear. The embarrassed ump took a step back and turned his head towards us, pulling up his mask to give us a quick smile that said “You got me that time!” (He was able to steal away and change pants between innings.) There was a remarkable night in 1997 when I watched Bobby Jones of the Mets outpitch Curt Schilling of the Phillies, when Mr. Schilling was in his prime. There was temporary joy in Metsville. Then I saw in the papers the next day that Schilling had not slept at all the night before - his wife had given birth to their first child. (Whatever happened to Bobby Jones?) I remember a twi-night doubleheader at the Vet when Butch Huskey of the Mets hit a home run into the upper atmosphere. The ball somehow missed all the satellites orbiting the earth, and when it finally came down, it landed in the Vet’s 600 level in left field, at a spot that was higher than the seat marked in right field commemorating Willie Stargell’s famous home run in 1971. Nobody but me gave the blast a second thought, however, because it was hit by a relatively unknown Met. I remember walking around the Vet's outfield on camera day, marveling at just how ungainly the artificial turf really was. My brothers then posed for pictures next to the big 408 on the center field wall. It was at the Vet where I saw the beginnings of the home run circus of 1998, at a game in early April, when Mark McGuire came out for batting practice followed by three camera crews.
     There was another night one April when I was so numbed from the cold that I couldn’t walk in a straight line after the game. There was a day game in July when I was so hot and sweaty that I poured an entire Rita’s Water Ice over my head. (I think it was cherry.) I attended “Howl at the Moon Night” in honor of pitcher Randy Wolf. (I did howl, but I did not wear the giveaway wolf mask.) One midsummer night at the Vet some years ago, during BP, I glanced up at the broadcast booth and saw Ralph Kiner. I waved to him and held up my camera, and he posed for me with a “thumbs up.” Thanks Ralph. Fortunately, that was not the night that I spilled Hi-C Fruit Punch all over the front of my white T-shirt. Of course, that spill occurred minutes after arriving at the park, which meant that I had to walk around for nearly four hours with an embarrassing bright red stain.
      Dinner was always cheese steak and fries. The Vet had the best French fries I have ever tasted. The best place to order food at the Vet was that part of the concourse where the air was the foulest from sizzling fries!

New York Distractions

New York City Skyline

Tall Ships at the South Street Seaport

New York Tenements

New York City Street Scene - Watermelons!

Brooklyn Bridge

     In reality, the goal of visiting every Major League ballpark is just an excuse to explore a good cross section of this great country. After all, how often does one get to cities like Pittsburgh or Cleveland? I was determined to see at least a couple of non-baseball attractions in every city I visited, no matter how small or disparaged the town happened to be. I found that every city had something to offer, even if sometimes it took a little digging. These explorations, for me, were much more meaningful than the usual mindless trips to Disneyworld or Las Vegas.
     While in New York City, hoof it around Midtown Manhattan and see the Empire State Building, St. Patrick's Cathedral, Times Square, and Rockefeller Center. (My first office job was across from the Chrysler Building on Lexington Avenue.) Take the subway downtown, where you can explore Wall Street, the South Street Seaport, and the World Trade Center Site before taking the walkway across the Brooklyn Bridge. All these attractions are free to enjoy from the outside, making up for the astronomical hotel prices found in the city. I leave it up to you to pick out your own museums or Broadway shows. One final tip from a photographer from New Jersey - make it over to Weehawken's Hamilton Park for the best skyline view of the city.
    

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Citi Field - New York Mets

Citi Field

Citi Field Old-Timers

Shea Stadium Home Plate

Citi Field Rotunda

Citi Field

     Citi Field, home of the Mets since 2009, was built in the old Shea Stadium parking lot. (I used to park in what is now left field.) It started out mostly as a tribute to the Brooklyn Dodgers, with its Jackie Robinson Rotunda resembling old Ebbets Field, but complaints by Mets fans have gradually increased the tributes around the park to the current team's history. There is now a Casey Stengel entrance, a Mets hall of fame displaying a primitive Mr. Met costume, and the bridge in the outfield was re-named the Shea Bridge. I like the big outfield dimensions - there is nothing more exciting in baseball than a Jose Reyes triple - and I hope they don't dumb down the place by moving the fences in. My brother and I traded our Shea Stadium Mezzanine tickets (Sunday Plan) for seats in the very last row of Citi Field's upper deck (directly behind home plate), and the new seats are just fine, this being a baseball only facility. The upper reaches of Shea, built as an all-purpose stadium, required Sherpa guides to climb to the last few rows.
     Photos: The arches of the Jackie Robinson Rotunda on game day, then some of the old-time Mets on display on the Northern Boulevard side of the stadium. Home plate from old Shea Stadium is marked in the new field's parking lot, but I am suspicious about the location, conveniently located in just the right spot between the rows of cars. Next, inside the spacious rotunda, and finally, a perfect summer afternoon at the ballpark.

Shea Stadium - New York Mets

Shea Stadium

Hot Dog Vendor

Agee Marker

Shea Stadium Scoreboard

Shea Stadium Night Game

     We begin with my original "home" ballpark, a doomed Shea Stadium in its final season of 2008. It was knocked down and hauled away the following winter. (OMFG!) My father, an old Brooklyn Dodger fan, took me to my first baseball game there in 1966, when I was nine years old. This is a final look back at a childhood memory, as meaningful to me as anything I could ever photograph.

     Shea Stadium was named after a human, not a bank. It had Jane Jarvis the organist, the sign man, the nastiest ushers in baseball, and announcers Lindsay Nelson, Bob Murphy and Ralph Kiner. It had different color decks to commemorate the old New York National League teams: Brooklyn Dodger blue and N.Y. Giant orange. Loud airplanes flew constantly overhead from La Guardia Airport, but no one really seemed to noticed them after a couple of seasons. (Except for opposing pitchers.) The Mets held regular Banner Days at Shea for many years, because, in the old days, whenever a disillusioned Met fan would pause and reflect on the meaning of life, or would contemplate his place in the universe and in the National League standings, he would therapeutically write it all down on a bed sheet. The old place had Cow Bell Man, who now looks lost because Citi Field was built without main isles. Old Shea had a deafening loud speaker system that cost a lot of us our hearing, and rumor had it that it was installed way back for the Beatle concerts. And of course, Shea Stadium had Mr. Met.
     That first game I attended in 1966, Ron Swoboda beat Juan Marichel and the San Francisco Giants with a walk off home run. I went to Willie Mays Night in 1973. The day Thurman Munson died, I was attending a twi-night doubleheader against the Phillies. That same night, Jose Cardenal of the Phillies was traded to the Mets - between games of the doubleheader. Poor Jose actually had to walk through the tunnel under the stands to switch dugouts.

     Photos: The Stadium was a much handsomer place in the early days ("You can look it up." - Casey Stengel), before they took down the outside decorations and replaced them with gobs of blue paint. You'll be happy to know that the vendors at new Citi Field still use the same ancient Nathan's hot dog carriers, but sadly the Tommie Agee marker in the old upper deck is long gone. The old scoreboard was a modern marvel in its day, where one could follow all the important out of town scores during those few and far between years the Mets were in the pennant race. In the last picture, new Citi Field lurks in the shadows during a late season night game in 2008, ready to take over the following spring. 

      The only travel involved here is a trip I've made hundreds of times, on some of the crummiest roads in the nation, from my home in New Jersey through Manhattan to Queens, where one pays dearly to cross the Hudson and East Rivers on expenses bridges bogged down with endless construction. I've been to every one of the lower 48 states this past decade, and these roads are the easily worst in the U.S.A.