Boys of Summer

April 6, 2000

Opening Day

Shea Stadium

New York Mets

vs. San Diego Padres

Rudy Giuliani emerged from his limousine smiling and waving to the crowd assembled between Gates C & D. But they weren’t assembled to see a politician. They were waiting in line for tickets. It’s baseball. And baseball is bigger than any man. In the electric environment of opening day, the Mayor’s arrival seemed somehow a non-event. For most people that is.

"Go back to the Bronx you bum!" someone shouted from atop a walkway winding up and around the ballpark. "We love Hillary! We love Hillary! We love Hillary!" The heckler was referring to Giuliani’s lifelong affection for the New York Yankees---The Bronx Bombers. In New York baseball, you can either be a Yankee fan or a Mets fan, but not both. It’s stupid, but it’s the way it is. Even for the Mayor.

A friend of mine from West Point is now the strength trainer for the San Diego Padres. Thanks to him, some fellow grads and I had seats about ten rows directly behind home plate. Great seats. I could see nary every batter’s intense gaze and necessary crotch adjustments up close and personal.

How exciting to be there on opening day. To my left was Tom Wopat of "Dukes of Hazzard" fame. Was he Bo or Luke? Next to him was that guy, Kevin Somebody, from that show "The King of Queens." To my front left sat the Mayor and his comb-over. I like the Mayor, but his hair is funny.

Players wives, kids, and girlfriends…sometimes I found it difficult to make the distinction…were seated around me eating hot dogs and drinking beer and having a grand old time. Baseball was back in full swing and everyone was happy.

Crowds dressed in blue and orange roared with every crack of the bat and sighed with every ball drifted just foul. Vendors barked out, "Cold beer here! Get your cold beer here!" A giant American flag snapped in the wind. It’s baseball. It’s America.

"You suck, Ump!"

"Blow me, Blue!"

It’s baseball. It’s New York.

Al Leiter pitched exceptionally well. And Derek Bell, who came over this year from the Astros, blasted a tie-breaking solo homer late in the game to give the Mets a 2-1 victory in this first contest of the new millennium at Shea.

While we waited outside for my friend, a guy wearing a bra, heals, and a Hillary Clinton mask walked around showing people the sign around his neck. Made of a square-foot carpet sample, the back read, "Carpet-bagger. Carpet-muncher."

As I continued my wait, a crazy homeless guy started hanging around the door from which the players exit. The cops started paying him close attention.

"You know what’s best in life?" he asked one of the officers.

"Move it along, sir."

"I’ll tell you what’s best in life…apple cider and pussy."

"Thank you, sir. Now move it along."

The homeless sage, his message delivered, slipped away toward the parking lot.

"And baseball!" a stranger shouted. "Don’t forget baseball!"

Everyone…the cops, the crazies, and the crew of West Point guys standing around…nodded their heads in agreement.

Broadway Jim Sosnicky