SHEA AND ME IN THE SUMMER OF '73

     Attending a race at Citi Field, I grew nostalgic for the now gone Shea Stadium. When it opened in 1964  I was 14 years old. This was the first New York ball park built in my lifetime, it housed the team I'd become passionate for after the Dodgers left...and it was mine!

     There was no year when it was more mine than 1973.

     The Mets stunk most of that season. They'd traded away Nolan Ryan and gotten nothing of value in return. They were ravaged by injuries. Their record was well below .500. They were in last place. And yet, not by that much. There was reason to believe. If they could get well and win, say, 10 in a row.... But, sadly, I was always believing things like that.

     I was in grad school which was definitely cutting into my ball playing time. I was in the midst of a tumultuous marriage in which we were always splitting up and separating by 3000 miles as she was from Seattle and didn't like New York. So I was certainly in the market for other things to think about.

     And happily it was the Mets. They got well in late August and starting winning. Their star closer, Tug McGraw, awful all season, suddenly remembered how to pitch. And how to win. Each time he did, he shouted: "Ya gotta believe!" And soon that's what everyone was shouting. And believing.  
                                                                                                                                                                          With time in the evening and plenty of hope, I went to game after game at Shea. My wife often went with me as, I guess, we weren't split up at the time. We'd buy the cheapest seats, upper deck, general admission, sit directly behind home plate and then, gradually as the game progressed, slide down. Most times we'd end up in upper deck boxes.

     What a view! The whole panorama of the field in front of us. Flushing, Queens in the dark of night over the center field fences! There was a sign for a zipper maker off  beyond left center....

     And the Mets won. Game after game. I don't think I attended a losing contest! And the first place Pirates struggled. Their star pitcher, Steve Blass, caught Steve Blass disease (couldn't throw strikes), they came to town for a 4 game series and we killed them. And when we passed them, I was there.

     And I was there for Willie Mays night when he said: "Willie, it's time to say goodbye to America!" Very moving. And he was right. Willie was pretty awful that year!

     And Tug McGraw kept shouting: "Ya gotta believe!"

     There was a day game that I couldn't go to because I had to be in, damn, graduate school. So I asked my wife...still in New York...to watch the game on TV...and write down anything interesting. So when I got home, I found that she had written..."Cleon Jones fell down." That's it? That's all that happened of interest in the entire game? "Well, I fell asleep," she explained. A key game and she fell asleep! No wonder we couldn't stay together. And she didn't even know who'd won the game!

     Of course, the Mets did. And, on the last day of the season, they won the National League East. Sadly, that didn't happen at Shea so I couldn't be there.

     But a big part of the playoffs did and it was against the heavily favored Big Red Machine. No way we could take them. Ha! You could if you believed!

     I was there at Shea when Pete Rose busted into Buddy Harrelson at second base and got into their big fight. Well, Harrelson, as I recall, more tried to cover up. I didn't care about the fight. The Mets won! And soon they ended the playoffs with a game 5, Shea Stadium win over the favorites and advanced to the World Series.

     Where we faced the heavily favored Oakland A's of Reggie Jackson. Tied up after 4 games, I was there at Shea for pivotal game 5. I sat, this time, in some newly set up seats beyond the left field wall, a spot, unfortunately, where I couldn't see the biggest play of the game...Cleon Jones' (recovered, apparently, from his fall) leaping circus catch against the wall just below me to help preserve Jerry Koosman's shut out. I remember what the scoreboard said immediately after the game was over..."Just 3000 miles to go for the championship! And I believed that's exactly what would happen.

     But believing, unfortunately, could take you just so far, not quite across the entire country. We got to Oakland only to have the A's win both games and the 1973 World Series.

     But, oh, well. It had been a fantastic season at Shea. For me the best ever. And, as Tug was soon saying, "Ya gotta believe more in '74!"

     So this is what I think of when I don't see Shea where Shea's supposed to be!