The Old Ball Game
On the same day, the St. Lawrence Seaway was closed after operating and maintenance workers went on strike.
He had been within 6 miles of Miami the night before, when his six‑foot sailboat, April Fool, was pushed back to sea by offshore winds and the currents of the Gulf Stream.
The single‑handed sailor had started his 84‑day voyage from Casablanca, Morocco, on March 29 of that year.
Mort Sahl was appearing nightly—except Mondays—at the Village Gate through June 30, and My Fair Lady, starring Fritz Weaver and Inga Swenson, was showing at N.Y. City Center.
In the world of fashion, Satori’s in Mamaroneck, NY, was selling Nehru jackets for $16.95, while the British American House on Madison Avenue was offering its NewRhu Gurru Medipation suit—“for sublime meditation or active participation”—from $65 to $160.
And on that day, I went to my first baseball game to see the New York Mets thrash the L.A. Dodgers—or at least I think I did.
I found an old ticket stub with that date, which somehow managed to survive all these years.
I had just turned 11 the previous month, and Peter would celebrate his 13th birthday the following day.
The memory is so vague, but I do recall that my oldest brother, Jim, told Peter and me that we were going out—possibly to see our Aunt Loretta in Upper Manhattan. But he was actually taking us to Queens to see the Amazing Mets.
In addition to a Nehru jacket, Jim had a big collection of colognes. Men’s fragrances were a big thing back then, with such brands as Brut, English Leather, Aramis, Jade East, and Hai Karate—“Be careful how you use it!”—to name just a few.
As we were getting ready, he snuck up behind me and anointed me with one of his favorites, which annoyed the hell out of me, to be honest.
The subway ride went on forever, and it finally dawned on Peter and me that we were not going to Aunt Loretta’s house. I’m no sports fan, but I was excited to go to a live game.
The ticket cost $2.50, which would be about $23.48 today. We were up high, and Jim talked baseball with an older gentleman sitting next to him.
All These Places had Their Moments
The Mets, who had a reputation as lovable losers, really went to work that day.
“If some benevolent dream merchant decided to compose a script for the satisfaction of New York Met fans among the 46,868 at Shea Stadium last night, he could hardly improve on the real-life details that went into a 5–1 victory over the Los Angeles Dodgers,” Leonard Koppett wrote in The New York Times the next day.
This was the year that Gil Hodges, a former infielder for the Brooklyn Dodgers, became manager. The Mets went 73–89 that year and finished ninth in the National League, 24 games behind the first‑place St. Louis Cardinals.
Despite the team’s ninth‑place finish, the Mets managed to narrowly avoid yet another last‑place ranking and boasted their best record since their inception in 1962.
And the names of players: Jerry Koosman, Tommie Agee, Cleon Jones, Ron Swoboda, Ed Kranepool, Tom Seaver, Nolan Ryan—even I know these legends.
The next year the Mets won the World Series and shocked the entire planet.
When the game was over, the old timer tapped my brother on the arm and said, “See you tomorrow.”
Time moved on—much too quickly. Shea Stadium was demolished in 2009 and the last game played there was a 4–2 loss to the Florida Marlins on September 28, 2008.
Following the game, there was a “Shea Goodbye” tribute in which many players from the Mets' glory years entered the stadium and touched home plate one final time so that fans could pay their last respects to the players and to the stadium the Mets had called home for 45 years, according to news reports.
The ceremony ended with Tom Seaver throwing a final pitch to Mike Piazza; then, as the Beatles’ “In My Life” played on the stadium speakers, the two former Met stars walked out of the center field gate and closed it behind them, followed by a display of blue and orange fireworks set to Fanfare for the Common Man.
Mets now play their home games at Citi Field, which was built in Shea Stadium’s former parking lots. The average ticket prices ranges from $32 to $100, depending upon the opponent and the seat location.
Jim moved to California in the 1970s and now resides in Fort Collins, Colo. Peter left this world nearly a year ago. I still can’t believe it.
The three of us had gone to two Met games together, and I can’t be sure that this ticket marks that very first time.
It doesn't matter know. Either way, that tattered piece of cardboard evokes a wonderful memory.
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