I mentioned yesterday my overall impressions of Citi Field were quite positive, but there were a couple of things about this new Flushing Meadows beauty that didn't quite jive for me. Specifically, I was caught wondering on more than one occasion just what specifically the Mets were trying to honor.
The impressive, beautifully rendered exterior of the park harkens back to the old Ebbets Field (above; see below and note the resemblance), home of the Brooklyn Dodgers, which was demolished shortly after Walter O'Malley, exasperated by attempts to get the city of New York to cooperate on a new stadium for the team, booked it out of town for Los Angeles with the Dodgers in tow. This westward migration, which was soon joined by the Giants and Athletics plus expansion franchises in San Diego, LA, and Seattle, was one of the watershed moments in the creation of modern baseball as we know it, but that's a story for another time and place. How, precisely, does this relate to the Mets?
Inside the main entrance it gets a little stranger. The charmless concrete ramps of Shea have been replace by what I'm guessing is an architect's rendering of what the pearly gates would look like if He insisted they become equipped with escalators. Historical photographs and motivational quotes line the the rotunda's exquisite walls and floors of marble, all geared to a salute for one of the great heroes in baseball history: Jackie Robinson. Ah yes, who could forget his glory years with the...Brooklyn Dodgers. Jackie Robinson played his last game of professional baseball in New York City five years before there was ever a Met to meet. So what's the story?
Now, it's not like Jackie Robinson belongs to one team alone. His is the only number retired by every Major League Baseball team. He left a legacy that goes way beyond the simple definitions of where he played and for how long. But while a tribute to Robinson and the romantic notion of a by-gone era which Ebbets Field represents were impressive, dare I say there was a crucial element that had gone missing amid all the opulence of Citi Field and its grand concourse: the Mets themselves.Officially the Ebbets-Citi connection could be explained by the fact that the Mets were the team that restored National League baseball to New York City, thus a tribute to those who came before was appropriate while making sure no luxury gets left behind. After all, the main reason the Mets exist today is because of NYC's staunch refusal to back off a demand that O'Malley build his new stadium in Flushing and share the revenue with the city (he preferred to stay in Brooklyn with a domed stadium that he alone held ownership over; New York balked at his requests, but as I can persoanlly attest they'll go for anything in Los Angeles, and as a result Sandy Koufax became a Hollywood icon). So when NL play was restored to the sprawl of Long Island five years after the Dodger/Giant exodus, the new stadium was precisely where city boss Robert Moses wanted it and the rest is history.
It's beautiful to look at for sure, but something about the excessive attention to detail in recreating the Ebbets Field exterior just screams like a team grasping for straws. It's almost like the Mets figured 'The Yankees spared no expense in a modern-yet-classic redo of their 1920s stadium, so we might as well follow suit'. Realizing that they had abosultely no contributions to the first seven "innings" of Ken Burns' Baseball to call their own, they borrowed some from the Dodgers.
Which, again, would make sense had O'Malley pulled an Art Modell and dumped Brooklyn to create a glorified spin-off franchise in Los Angeles. But the Dodgers are still the Dodgers out at Chavez Ravine, and if somebody's gonna pay homage to 50 years of Brooklyn baseball, shouldn't it be the club which actually played in Brooklyn at that time? And it's not like the Mets don't have a legacy of their own to celebrate - two World Series titles, each of which is easily among the most dramatic in baseball history, plus a slew of larger than life characters ranging from Nolan Ryan to "I'm Keith Hernandez", and who could forget Lenny Dykstra? (Okay, maybe you don't want to be associating with him right now). I guess what I'm saying is that there were options behind the standard - and somewhat oddly placed - love letter to Dodger icons.
Joe McKenna, your thoughts?
1 comments:
Big George, you've put into words many of my thoughts, but I do have a few things to add.
First off, as I told you Saturday evening, I think Citi Field is the best baseball stadium I have been to, and nothing I write below is significant enough to change that.
It may just be that it was my first trip to Citi, but I often needed to remind myself that I was actually at a Mets game. Shea Stadium never let you forget that fact - all the way down to the blue facades and orange seats, not to mention the constant reminders throughout the walkways and tunnels of championships and great players of the past. This needs to be confirmed by several more visits, but I don't remember seeing any pictures of great Mets, current Mets, or even Met slogans anywhere throughout the concourses - just some big pictures of (you guessed it, Ebbets Field). The only thing that stands out in my memory is the phrase "Let's Go Mets" atop the center field scoreboard, which brings me to my next point - what I would have done differently.
The "preserved skyline silhouette" you refer to in your post on the Shake Shack (for which I did not wait in line) should replace "Let's Go Mets" in a triumphant return to the top of the scoreboard.
Next, give the Old Apple a more prominent location. I admittedly did not even see it on my first trip to Citi. I believe it's actually hidden down below the food court in a side entrance to the stadium. While I'm not saying it should replace the new apple (which I think is so big it's almost ridiculous), I think it deserves more attention.
Now, I really like the new Jackie Robinson Rotunda. It's beautiful. But as you and many Met fans have commented, it makes you wonder what team you're going to watch. Want to solve both of these problems? Put the Old Apple at the top of the stairs, right smack in the middle of the rotunda, or just outside the front doors. Make the apple more accessible and bring some Met flavor to the ballpark entrance.
All in all, I loved it and can't wait to get back soon.
And those, George, are Joe McKenna's thoughts.
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