FLUSHING, NY – Opening Day at Citi Field Shea Park is supposed to feel like a fresh start. This one felt like a reward. The sun was blazing, the temperature somehow drifted into a downright tropical 74 degrees, and for a few glorious hours it didn’t feel like March in New York. It felt like September dreams starting early.
Walking around the ballpark, you could sense something different. No hunched shoulders against wind tunnels off the parking lots. No gloves on. No coffee/whisky-clutching in survival mode. Fans were smiling before first pitch. Smiling after last year’s debacle! That alone should’ve been a warning sign to the Pittsburgh Pirates AND maybe even to phenom Paul Skenes. Well not really, but hey, I’m on a roll.
And yeah, it was that Paul Skenes. The flamethrower. The future Dodger swing-starter. The guy everyone came to see, like his girlfriend Livvy Dunne who was squirming in her seat BEHIND us. CLICK THIS
And the Mets?
From the first crack of the bat, the crowd had that Opening Day electricity that Queens can generate. The 2-run,1st-inning tater admittedly had us worried, but getting those two back in the bottom of the first got everybody jazzed again. Then the unthinkable happened; Skenes couldn’t get out of the first! FIVE RUNS SCORED!!!
Granted, the Bucs played defense like Keystone Kops and Brett Baty’s “triple” would have been caught by 99% of MLB center fielders. Yet, it was a rope. BUT… Every time Skenes looked mortal, the giddy capacity crowd let him know it.
There’s something special about beating a pitcher with that kind of hype, especially when his offensively decent team gave the new Mets’ ace fits. To his credit, he got through 5 innings but it does make one a tad uneasy.
Anyway, the Mets didn’t look intimidated. They looked ready. The had LONG AT BATS!!! We haven’t seen that since Keith Hernandez and Wally Backman were in the box. The crowd fed off it.
Between innings, fans soaked up sunshine like it was July. Kids ran the aisles with foam fingers twice their size. The little bastards. Vendors were moving cold beers instead of hot whatever. Somewhere around the middle innings, someone behind me said, “If this is how the season starts, sign me up for all of it.” I told him “Keep drinking.”
When the Mets finally slammed the door shut – after playing sound fundamental baseball – the place erupted in that unmistakable Queens chorus, equal parts relief, disbelief, and optimism. Opening Day always brings hope, but this felt sturdier than hope. It felt like possibility.
After the final out, nobody rushed for the exits. People lingered. High-fives everywhere. Conversations about rotations, breakout seasons. We didn’t want the day – when the Amazins were undefeated – to end. October chatter was already creeping into assessments like they belonged there. Realistic? Who knows?
But beating Skenes in the March sunshine and having better seats than this girlfriend sure felt good. If you’re a Mets fan, you couldn’t have asked for a better way to start the ride.
