Shea-ing Goodbye (Shea it ain't So): Photo Essay Pt II
Takin' the 7 train, though not express unfortunately.
Some Citifield facade shots...
More new park porn
A billboard features the day's starter, modelling the disguise he'd no doubt be using to leave the stadium.
This picture, taken from the section I mistook for my own for 4 innings (oops), captured the early joy of the game.
From "my" original seats, Jose Reyes could be viewed in all his goofiness.
My real seats? Well, the cowbell man comes to the Mezz too.
Glee would turn to shock when Mr. Met later turned the gun on himself.
God tries to stop the cycle of violence.
Slipping on my new lucky Mets footsies stopped the rain, but could not deliver victory.
Unfortunately, it came to this, as it so often does.
Wishing I could say the same.
One last parting shot: juxtaposing present suckiness with future hopes while walking the wrong way to the subway thanks to elderly Mets employee's directions. Thanks, pal. You cannot get to the 7 train that way.
Labels: i was there