I feel kind of bad for Mets fans. I really do. Since their first game in 1962 they have always been in the shadow of their close neighbor and baseball powerhouse Yankees. In 1964 the Mets left the famous Polo Grounds and moved into a then, state of the art, new facility that we know as Shea Stadium. This giant, circular behemoth came with a $28.5 million price tag, as well as a built in joke, situated in the unfortunately named Flushing, NY. But good fortune smiled on the Mets when they won the World Series in just their 7^th year. And of course everyone knows the story of the '86 Mets and their improbable championship (more on that in a second), but despite those two highlights I still feel sorry for Mets fans.

I have no idea when I was last at Shea Stadium, probably when I was 5, but I remember the nose-bleed, fingernails-tuned-white while death gripping my dad's hand as we climbed ever higher to the roof. Those seats, some 26 years later, are still pretty damn scary for me. Walking around the upper deck of Shea Stadium is an exercise in facing fears. Fear of heights for some. Fear of cramped seats and impossible walkways for others. In fact, about the only redeeming value of the upper deck at Shea Stadium right now is being able to look in on the new ballpark, Citi Field, directly behind centerfield. I'm not exaggerating, the upper deck is horrible. You are so far from the field that I had to zoom all the way in with my camera just to get decent shots of the Mets sign painted behind the batter's box. And I have to laugh at the fans who will be shelling out at least $869 for a pair of seats from this stadium. The price comes from the two World Series years, '86 and '69. These seats are like displaced elbows and knees, bending further in the opposite direction of how they are intended to work. In one seat I attempted to sit in to get pictures of the entire stadium, I immediately fell to the ground because the support, or lack thereof, didn't quite do the job. Thank goodness our actual seats were 10 rows behind the plate for game.

I have a strong feeling that many people, Mets fans or not, will not be missing this relic. To say it is a dump would be to insult the people who work at sanitation stations nationwide. How comical is it that a stadium built in which almost no foul ball reaches the middle or upper decks because of how far back the stands are would also have such cramped seats. The only foul ball that made it to the middle level was one that went directly back over our heads and over the press box. Nothing else came close. And poor Mr. Met. Not even with his super-duper terrific t-shirt shooting gun could he reach anyone but the deeper pocketed fan. As I have said, I feel sorry for Mets fans.

But I, like many without a team to support in the 80's, jumped on the Mets bandwagon when I was young, specifically around the '86 season when Wally Backman and Howard Johnson were doing their thing, Dwight Gooden was delivering the heat, and Mr. Strawberry was going deep. I was a Mets fan. At least until the Marlins popped up in my neck of the woods. That post season may be the most memorable for me as a fan of any other team than my Fish. I don't need replays and highlights to recall Game 6 of the World Series. I only wished I could be at the stadium back then when the fever pitch was at its boiling point and Shea proudly represented a different era in baseball.

To be fair, Shea Stadium mainly gets a bad rap because of the new stadium boom started with Camden Yards. In its heyday a pretty easy ride on the #7 subway train would bring you out to Queens and you'd be treated to site of the old New York World's Fair as well as this giant blue building where the likes of Nolan Ryan mowed down batter after batter and where Willie Mays finished out his career. And for Mets fans who had to believe in the 70's, only to see two of their best players traded away by an ambivalent owner, Shea Stadium became more than an eye-sore, but a heart sore until their mid-‘80s resurrection.

Back to our game on Saturday, part of a Double-Header thanks to the rain in New York from this hurricane season, we settled in to our snug seats behind the plate and tried to take in any and all good that this stadium had to offer. The staff was pretty friendly for one. In fact the ushers were atypical of most stereo-typed New Yorkers. They were helpful and pleasant. But at the same time the Mets policy to seemingly let anyone walk anywhere during any point of the inning became rather annoying. We were 10 rows from the field yet constantly had our view blocked by tardy patrons, numerous concessioners, or pee-break fans. I can't stand that and I applaud the many ballparks that require that fans wait to return to their seats until after a play.

Another fabulous negative for the fans are the airplanes. Shea Stadium is built right into LaGuardia's flight path, so every few minutes you get to have the wonderful sounds of baseball drowned out by American Airlines flights bound for Miami Beach or where ever New Yorkers flock to once the weather starts to turn. From what I have read on Ballparks.com, the story goes that the stadium developers visited the future Shea Stadium site in the dead of winter when the flight paths are different than they are during baseball season. That's too bad for whoever sings the National Anthem. It's hard enough trying to hear anything in this stadium because the acoustics are so bad without having the roar of 747s screaming overhead (which happened twice during Saturday's Anthem).

Citi Field, opening next year, may be grander and more modern, but will be inheriting the poor location and non-existence of nearby social infrastructure that Shea Stadium currently lacks. I prefer ballparks that are nestled in cities or neighborhoods that make you feel like spending an evening strolling around is safe and inviting, Queens does not convey that. Baltimore, San Diego, Fenway, Seattle, and Phoenix are some great examples of how ballparks have become part of the community and helped local establishments thrive while building a better and more pleasant area to visit. Shea Stadium is like visiting a nursing home. You feel good while you're visiting your loved one, but when it's time go you want to get as far away as possible.

Shea Stadium, stripping away my memories of the '86 Mets, gets a seeing-eye SINGLE as a ballpark. It makes me very happy I am not a Mets fan because I would hate to have grown up attending game after game there, with my only enjoyment being the Apple pop from the Mets Magic Home Run top hat in right centerfield. So, rejoice Mets fans, and don't be sad that your home for 44 years will soon give way to the future. Soon you'll trade your broken seats for ones with internet that you can order food from without missing a second of the game. But until then enjoy the last two weeks at Shea and hope that your team doesn't implode like last year.