There's No Place Like Home
I'm back... back in the New York Groove
Momentum is apparent in many forms. The transition from smooth roads to obstacles and back again is a trip that, in baseball, everyone takes. This fan base, in particular, lives and dies with their team.
And these days, with just cause, there is joy in Metsville.
Despite being dealt a historically bad hand over the first two-plus months of the season, the Mets — led by pitching and scrappiness, in that order — haven’t just kept themselves afloat.
They’re riding that wave all the way back to healthy shores.
On Friday at Citi Field, in front of 33,000-plus, emotions were high as the team returned home to ride another Jacob deGrom gem (and two-RBI night) to a win over the talented Padres.
On Saturday, the party was still going. Strong. For the first time since August 2019, I returned to Citi Field as a fan. To call it glorious wouldn’t even do the day justice.
That long stroll through the lot (it’s a Ryder family tradition to park as close to the exit as possible to avoid long exit lines later) is always a great primer for the day.
You can tell how the team is playing coming into the day by that energy alone.
The bouquet-like combination of scents — the charcoal grills, whatever’s cooking on them, beer, the occasional whiff of, um, other stuff — it’s just the start of the journey.
Families, friends, and strangers together being part of a community is a sight to behold, every single time.
The reunions. The laughter. The easily overheard conversations about whether Edwin Diaz is actually good or if David Peterson can take the next step (yes and yes, by the way).
All of it was beautiful. Overwhelming at times, but heartwarming. And I hadn’t even made it into the stadium yet.
Once inside, the star-glazed look in fans’ eyes (yes, star-glazed — that drinking-since-noon, watching your heroes at work look) almost brought me down again.
We love this team and we’re finally getting the chance to express that love as a big, happy family again. Special stuff, friends.
Between Marcus Stroman keeping the Padres in check, Francisco Lindor and Jonathan Villar’s feats of strength, and the bullpen’s continued effectiveness, that buzz was palpable throughout the afternoon.
Stroman’s strikeout of Trent Grisham on a darting 3-2 sinker with Tommy Pham on second generated a burst of energy I personally hadn’t felt in ages. Well, at least since Lindor’s home run in the first.
Ah, a packed* house. Nothing like it in the world.
I attended the game with a group of friends from San Diego. And, in a way, that was what made Saturday so special.
We were just a group of baseball fans enjoying some baseball. It didn’t matter that the room was split 80/20 in San Diego’s favor.
The simple joy of watching our respective teams play was good enough.
They asked about the Bench Mob. I openly basked on the wonderment of Fernando Tatis Jr.
Every sparkling play Luis Guillorme made, them asking “who is this guy?” just got louder and louder. Just a splendid afternoon.
The “Let’s Go, Mets” chants on the way down the stairs (I desperately miss the ramps around Shea, by the way) are always a tell-tale sign of good times in Flushing Meadows.
Let the good times roll.
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