Author: Susan Laney Spector

The excitement of sighting Gary Cohen in the boarding area of LaGuardia, sitting in the seat directly behind him on my flight to Pittsburgh a week ago yesterday, and then ultimately speaking to him at baggage claim in the Pittsburgh airport got my Pittsburgh/Mets road trip off to a very exciting start, no doubt about it!

After that, my family and I were off to National car rental to pick up our rental car where something fun–okay, not NEARLY as exciting as the previous few hours, but fun nonetheless–awaited us as well. 

Whenever we go on vacation and require a rental car, my husband Garry almost always defers to me when it comes to actually selecting the vehicle itself.  I’m not sure whether that’s because (1) he rents a car every week when he goes to work in Washington, DC, and thus any entertainment that existed in the selection process disappeared for him long ago or (2) he recognizes that I will be doing the bulk of the driving (our usual arrangement) and as the principal driver I might want some say as to the type of automobile I will be driving. 

Or maybe he’s just a really sweet guy! 

I do know that if make and model of car is not a major consideration, he and I both like to select a vehicle that is equipped with XM satellite radio since XM carries virtually all Major League Baseball games.

But something extra-special–at least in my and my daughter Melanie’s eyes–was parked and available on the Emerald Club Aisle as a possible selection last Tuesday morning: 

a slate blue Volkswagen bug convertible!

While we kept the top up for our trip into town from the airport, the beautiful weather practically demanded that the top come down as I drove my family around for a little sight-seeing in the Pittsburgh downtown area before batting practice. 

We started out along the bank of the Allegheny River across from which one can see right into the beautiful new PNC ballpark. 

We drove by the Westin Convention Hotel.  That is the hotel where the Mets were staying.  We hoped to see some of our guys heading out for a snack before it was time to go to the ballpark or something, but we did not see any of them.

The Westin, by the way, is the former Vista Hotel.  The Vista Hotel opened nineteen years ago when I lived in Pittsburgh. 

At that time, I played as a member of the Con Spirito Woodwind Quintet.  It was as a member of that quintet–hired by the Vista Hotel to play one night a week in its lobby–that I often saw Major League ballplayers from teams in town to play the Pirates strolling through the lobby.

I really shouldn’t make connections like this, I know, but when I was one year out of graduate school and struggling to make ends meet as a young, single professional musician playing gigs like that in Pittsburgh, Jose Reyes was no doubt already running and sliding in the dirty sandlots of the Dominican…at age five.

With still more time before the gates opened, I took my fellow Mets fans to the Oakland area of Pittsburgh to the campus of University of Pittsburgh where part of the old Forbes Field still stands.

My daughter Melanie even tried to stage an "Endy Chavez catch" in an attempt to scale "Maz’s wall". 

This is the nickname given to the remaining wall of Forbes Field, so called because of Bill Mazeroski’s home run over the left field wall that won the World Series for the Pirates in 1960.

After that, it was time to leave baseball in Pittsburgh circa 1960 and go downtown to baseball in Pittsburgh in the present at PNC!

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More on the Pittsburgh road trip as well as the Washington, DC, road trip that followed in further posts!

Wow!  If this weren’t so much fun, keeping up with these road trips might begin to feel like work or something!  But seriously, I cannot even begin to imagine how tiring it must be to keep up with the grueling pace of spring training followed by a full season of baseball for regular players.

I had a good time in Pittsburgh, but the excitement began before we even arrived there. 

Sitting in boarding area at our departure gate at LaGuardia, waiting to board our USAir flight on Tuesday morning, I looked up from my copy of the Times and did a double-take: 

sitting only a few feet away from my family and me was SNY ANNOUNCER GARY COHEN!!

So immersed was he in his own newspaper–specifically, the crossword puzzle–that I did not want to intrude on what was probably one of very few quiet moments in what was to no doubt be a very long work day for him. 

But then when we boarded our flight and I then found myself SITTING IN THE SEAT DIRECTLY BEHIND GARY COHEN, I thought to myself, "I want to respect his privacy, but how am I going to be able to contain myself and not say a word to him for the entire trip?!"

I’m happy to say that I and my family were able to remain respectful of his privacy throughout the trip AND that when we approached him after our flight landed, we had a delightful conversation with him. 

He also kindly obliged when I asked if I might take some photos of him with my daughter and husband as we all waited for our baggage to come off of the carousel.

It was an entirely lovely way to begin our adventure in Pittsburgh!

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Unfortunately, washing jerseys and repacking for the trip to Washington for the two remaining games with the Nationals which we shall see this weekend will prevent me from giving more details about all the fun I had at PNC Park!  Details about BOTH road trips will follow in upcoming posts!

The Mets and I are off to Pittsburgh tomorrow.

I lived in Pittsburgh for one year, 1988, and have not been back since.  I’m looking forward to seeing the new (since I was there) ballpark, and other things that have changed in almost 20 years.

I was thinking about my year in Pittsburgh recently.  Because my family and I are planning this trip there, I naturally thought about my time there and what I might like to share with them while we are there. 

But more than planning this road trip, it was actually all the recent attention focused on Barry Bonds that conjured up memories of that year and specifically that summer of 1988.

As Barry began to hone in on homerun number 756, the media started pumping up the volume, trying to rev up excitement for the event, and as part of that, we began seeing photos and video clips from early in Barry’s career.  Seeing one of those clips recently, my daughter could hardly believe that the image she was watching on television was the same player.

"Kinda looks a little different now, huh?" said her father, a bit sarcastically.  "But that’s how he looked when your Mom saw him play in Pittsburgh."

"Is that right?" she asked, looking at me for verification.

"Yup.  That’s what he looked like all right." 

Nothing like seeing the "before" photos and videos to drive home the shock of just how bulked-up Bonds’ body truly is these days.

That prompted me to take a little trip down memory lane.  The summer of 1988, I was preparing to move from Pittsburgh to Spokane, Washington. 

That summer, I played my final gigs with the woodwind quintet with which I was performing in Pittsburgh.  We were affiliated with Duquesne University and, although we gave faculty recitals at the university, the highlight of the summer for me was our weekly gig playing in the lobby of the recently opened Vista Hotel.  Why?  Because the Vista Hotel was the hotel of choice for visiting baseball clubs playing the Pittsburgh Pirates.  I often looked up from my music stand to see well-known ballplayers striding through the hotel lobby!

Around quintet gigs, I spent the summer alternately (1) packing up my belongings in 40 or so boxes to be shipped west via UPS by summer’s end and (2) going to Three Rivers’ Stadium to cheer on the Pirates.

I remember cheering on the likes of Andy Van Slyke, Mike LaValliere, Bobby Bonilla, Sid Bream, and Doug Drabek, just to name a few.

I’ve not heard about some of those guys.  Andy Van Slyke, I know, is enjoying success as a First Base Coach for the Detroit Tigers, once again working with Jim Leyland who was the Pirates Manager in 1988.

But, hey, we ALL know what’s happened to Barry.

But if you want to see Barry’s "progression" from 1988 until now, I found someone else who has documented it in an interesting way.  To see what’s changed in the past 20 years or so, check it out it out here.

Tomorrow, I’ll see what’s changed on the Renaissance City skyline and check out the new PNC Ballpark!

    A true hero (and the real "king" for some of us!),

     passing on the coveted title with the same class and dignity

with which he earned it 33 years ago.

         (Click here for the video.)

From your humble beginnings

to your glorious victory tonight

and all the ups and downs in between: 

CONGRATULATIONS, TOMMY!!

Now come back to Shea and help us beat up your former Braves teammates!!

I dug this photo out recently. 

My teen aged niece, seeing it for the first time stared incredulously at my brother’s (her father’s) jeans in the photo.  She was aghast at the deplorable (in her opinion) color.  "FUSCHIA?!" she exclaimed in horror, teasing him mercilessly.

She was so busy assessing my brother’s fashion faux pas, that she failed to recognize the gentleman standing in between her youthful father and aunt. 

But on a summer day in the early ’70s, I was sitting in the back seat with my brother, as my father drove and my mother navigated on one of our summer vacations–this one to the West Coast and, on this particular day, in San Francisco–and my brother noticed this gentleman.

At a recent family gathering, my brother recalled the specific circumstances.  He remembered glancing out the car window and remarking rather nonchalantly,

"Hey, that guy looks like HANK AARON!"

He then recalled that my mother–a baseball fan since childhood and a Braves fan in particular–snapped her arms straight out at her sides, simultaneously barking an order to my father to "Stop the car!"

Looking back on it, my brother said, she would have known that the Braves were in town to play the Giants. 

Turns out my brother’s assumption that he’d seen someone with a remarkable resemblance to Hank Aaron was incorrect:  he’d seen one and the same!

I don’t remember how my father managed to find a parking place on the streets of San Francisco (nor how he managed to park our car what with the challenges of the steep inclines and the fact that my mother and brother were probably driving him nuts in their excitement to get parked and return to where they had seen Aaron).  However, when we returned to the spot where Aaron had been standing, he was still there, standing in front of what was apparently the hotel where he and his team were staying.

I remember my father politely asking "Mr. Aaron" if he would mind if he took a picture of him with my brother and me and, obviously, Hank Aaron obliging. 

In that very brief encounter, I do remember getting a sense of the "quiet dignity" that is so commonly used to describe his personae–especially in so many recent articles about his approaching Babe Ruth’s record as Barry Bonds has now been approaching Aaron’s record.

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There have been so many articles written about Bonds and this record.  I’ve read some.  I have little more to contribute personally.  However, I would like to direct others’ attention to a couple of voices out there–one in radio and one in print–who gave me something to think about regarding this subject in the past 24 hours that I had not thought about in quite that way before.

1.  WFAN’s Steve Somers is a personal favorite radio personality of mine.  While his monologues tend to be a bit long-winded (and some might say "overblown"), I like his insights and the dramatic ups and downs of his voice. 

Driving up to Connecticut yesterday morning, I was listening to his show, the opening of which you can hear here.  (You will need to either forward through about the first quarter of the file or listen through wrap-ups of the previous day’s Yankees and Mets games before you get to his Aaron/Bonds spiel.)

If you don’t have the time or patience or just don’t appreciate Steve Somers the way I do, I’ll just extract what it is that he said that made an impression on me:  he said that the ugliness of the racist taunts and letters that Aaron bore the brunt of during his chase of Ruth’s record "cheated" Aaron of the enjoyment of the pursuit of the record.  And now, Somers says, a cheater is cheating Aaron out of the enjoyment of passing the record along to a worthy heir apparent. 

Somers states that Aaron has been "cheated" not once but twice.

2. In the article "Two Players, but Only One True King", New York Times writer Selena Roberts’ take, while certainly not exonerating Bonds at all, ends with the thought that perhaps Bonds’ achievement says something about us as a society at large, specifically about our expectations of our own bodies and those of our athletes.

Only a week or so ago, the Times ran a cover story on the disturbing prevalence of surgeons being approached by high school athletes requesting Tommy John surgery EVEN WHEN THEY WERE NOT INJURED because they (or their coaches or parents) were under the (mistaken) impression that the end result would be that they would be faster pitchers!

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But back to the picture at the top of the page.

I saw the excitement in my brother’s face when he met Hank Aaron.  And in my Mom’s face too.  Me?  I wasn’t a baseball fan at the time.

But looking back at it now, how difficult must it have been for my parents to tell my brother and me about all the ugliness that Aaron endured during his career?  I never grew up around that sort of prejudice.  I’m sure when I was told about the letters he had received, the death threats, the extra security that had to be arranged, I’m sure that I couldn’t believe it. 

And that made him even MORE of a hero in my and everyone else’s eyes.

My husband and I recently had to explain this same unbelievably ugly side of humanity to our own daughter as we discussed Aaron’s record.  We also discussed the ugly racism and even more punishing obstacles put in the path of Jackie Robinson as a part of sharing the absolutely terrific "Brooklyn Dodgers: The Ghosts of Flatbush"–airing regularly on HBO through September—with her.

But as I was watching that show, I was thinking about the children back then, hearing jeers at Jackie Robinson but ultimately seeing him stay on to play on the team, to be a success, and to ultimately make a mockery of those who had mocked him.

Children today are seeing people in ballparks holding signs with asterisks on them, people dressed up like syringes, yelling about "steroids"–a term most kids probably don’t even know.  Will history make Barry Bonds a hero and those who taunted him look like the idiots? 

I doubt it.

In this case, it isn’t going to be a case of the "hero" eventually conquering the "ugliness" that is set in his path.  It’s just going to be a quasi-hero at best or an anti-hero at worst.  Perhaps some will try to paint the steroid issue as a smear campaign of "ugliness" to detract from Barry’s success, but I don’t think many will buy that. 

Maybe A-Rod will pass the record soon and this will be just a short chapter in the history books, who knows.

No doubt the new homerun record will eventually be surpassed.  And, just as predictably, there will still be things about human society that parents will not like to have to admit to themselves nor to have to explain to their children.

But, hopefully, there will still be those heroes who succeed in spite of the prejudices of others, and, hopefully, there will still be true heroes who rely on their true inner and physical strengths for whom honor and awards can be bestowed with no reservations, disgruntlement, questions, or asterisks.

Well, it looks like Atlanta cashed in their chips on Teixeira today.  I only hope the Mets don’t trade away their future, e.g., Lastings Milledge, for some stop-gap solution to temporary problems.  It’s not worth it, Omar!!

I admit it, though:  we DO have problems.  And not just in our gimped-up outfield.  What I hear management would be most likely to address via a trade, though, would be that fifth spot in the pitching rotation. 

Admittedly, Sosa’s not getting the job done.  And Pelfry’s a work-in-progress. 

And, heck yeah, how long can we keep pining away for Pedro? 

He’s like a boyfriend who never calls or writes, but on whom the jilted one just cannot seem to give up.

Anytime someone mentions those hope-filled words,

"You know, Pedro pitched off a mound today,"

there are those of us who get goose-bumps and our eyes get this dreamy, far-away look in them as we see the mythic figure with the number 45 on his jersey, hurling the ball toward the plate, then pumping his fist and looking skyward.

"Maybe he really WILL come back to me!  Maybe he WILL come back in time for the post-season!" we tell ourselves.

My excuse?  I’m from the Midwest:  born in Kansas, raised in Oklahoma.  Most times I believe what people tell me.  If Omar says he’s coming back, I believe him.

Well, in any case, I certainly hope that cooler heads prevail and we don’t see some move made in desperation. 

I know how frustrating it’s been to see some recent starts when it hasn’t been Maine, Glavine, Perez, or Hernandez on the mound, but I don’t think we should hit the panic button or anything.  I hope my opinion is in the majority here. 

I had to start wondering about how widely that view is held, though, when I recently saw this fan–or more to the point:  his JERSEY–from my mezzanine box seat.

With Paul LoDuca down for the count, fellow Mets blogger Metstradamus has been thinking maybe it’s high time we bring Mike Piazza back to Shea in a Mets uniform. And, well, Rickey Henderson and Marlon Anderson have recently returned as Mets.  But really now–are any of us really and truly prepared for the return of LIMA TIME??!!

Just say NO!

I haven’t posted much lately, but I’ve definitely been keeping track of the Mets.  I’ve just been a little preoccupied lately with musical endeavors.

No, actually, not performing music myself, but attending performances. 

Being the die-hard Wagner fans that our family members are and, seeing as how one can hardly ignore a Ring Cycle being performed right in one’s backyard, two years ago we bought tickets to the Kirov Opera’s performance of Wagner’s Ring Cycle–conducted by Valery Gergiev–to be performed at the Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center.

When we ordered these tickets two years ago, we knew that the performances would take place during the baseball season and that our attendance would no doubt involve us missing a game or two, but at that time we had no idea (1) that we would be Mets season ticket-holders by 2007, (2) that all three of us would’ve become such die-hard Mets fans, nor (3) that the performances would’ve involved us missing both Endy Chavez Bobblehead Night (Siegfried) and Ralph Kiner Appreciation Night (Gotterdammerung)!!  Sigh…

With stiff upper lips and–in the case of Melanie, her Valkyrie helmet in place–we attended all four performances…even the ones involving those home games with special promotions.

For the most part, I was all right with my husband Garry just checking the score and watching the play-by-play on his phone prior to the opera and at intermissions.  But when Gotterdammerung started at 6PM on Saturday night and the game was only in about the 7th inning, I just could not give up on the Mets quite yet.

But with the first act of Gotterdammerung clocking in at a full two hours, how could I wait that long before knowing the outcome of the game??!!

I decided to leave my phone on–with the sound off–and surreptitiously follow the action via MLB.com on my phone’s web browser.

Because the screen on my phone is bright and the opera house is extremely dimly lit, I knew that I would have to be exceedingly careful in doing this. 

I kept my phone and my hand inside my deep purse and every five minutes or so, I snuck a peek inside my purse, hitting the "refresh" button on the browser.

In that manner, I "saw" Gotay get on base and, later, Beltran get him in on a two-run homer.  At that point, I knew that it wasn’t over.

As the Norns spun their rope, determing the fates of the gods, I knew that the fate of the Mets was far from determined, even this late in the game. 

But, in fact, those turned out to be the only two runs they would tack on, finally losing to the Dodgers, 8-6.

Unfortunately, I wouldn’t know that, though, until the end of Act I.  Apparently, my actions had not been as discreet as I had hoped.  About 40 minutes into the act, the gentleman one row behind me and to my left leaned over and said to me, "That light is very distracting." 

Busted.

At that point, I knew that the ballgame was over for me and that I would just have to wait to find out the final score like everybody else (not that I got the idea that anyone else around me at the opera, other than my husband and daughter, had any anxiety about that.)

Anyone else think it might be nice to have the option of replacing the Met Titles–the translations of the opera text on the back of the seats–with sports scores, stock quotes, headline news?!! 

Well, maybe just during baseball season.

I’m back. 

I wish the Mets and their usual A+ playing were back.

In the two weeks since my last post, I travelled to Houston to see the Mets play two games, watched the other two Houston games on TV, did without baseball for a few days, and watched the All-Star Game on TV.

On Thursday night, I was in attendance at Shea to welcome the gang back from their road trip. 

On Saturday and Sunday, I made clandestine checks on my cellphone browser during the first two installments of the Kirov Opera’s Ring Cycle at the Metropolitan Opera which I was attending.  I was then once again in attendance at Sunday afternoon’s game in Queens.

Thanks to the local Starbucks, I have been able to stay with SNY and the two West Coast games so far.

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Looking back over the past two weeks, in some ways, a lot has happened for the Mets:  some roster moves, e.g., Julio Franco and Lastings Milledge; Batting Coach Rick Down is gone and Rickey Henderson is now here coaching;  Jorge Sosa came off the DL and Oliver Perez went on and came off the DL; within the past few weeks, Reyes was taken out of games for not hustling and El Duque hustled and got two stolen bases(!); we now have a new player–Chip Ambres; the additional brickwork now in place at Citi Field is quite noticeable; and Willie Randolph had surgery and now has his arm in a sling.

But then, in other ways, it seems that very little has changed for the Mets.  How many times do I still find myself staring incredulously as the middle of our batting order does absolutely nothing for us?  As runners are again left in scoring position? It’s like we’re stuck in a time warp. 

We may be stuck, but the teams behind us are not.  They are moving forward, slowly but surely. 

I was so hoping the Mets would begin the second half of the season breaking out of the gate like they meant business, but so far it seems more like "business as usual". 

It doesn’t seem fair to complain when they are, afterall, in first place.  Problem is, though, this kind of playing–matched up with that of Atlanta’s–will not keep them in first place much longer, I fear.

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But how about some of the more memorable moments from the past two weeks, technicalities aside?

It’s always interesting to go to another ballpark.  Although our SNY and WFAN announcers do a terrific job of giving us the "feel" of each ballpark, its distinctive sights and smells, there is nothing quite like the personal and direct experience, of course.

While I was well aware that Carlos Beltran’s returns to Houston are not well received, one really needs to be present to truly appreciate the intensity of the Houston fans’ vitriol for Carlos.  I mean, the boisterous booing and cat-calling for the always-reserved, ever-gracious Beltran actually put the Philly boo-birds to shame in its sheer volume and intensity. 

By the time we had sat through almost two entire games of Beltran’s at-bats, I was ready to stand up and scream in frustration, "So he signed with the Mets and left Houston after three months…how many years ago was that?!  GET OVER IT!!!!" 

The vociferousness of the fans was beyond belief:  a lot of these rednecks were practically foaming at the mouth!

While I realized at the time that I was risking life and limb (not to mention that of my loving family…oh, and my expensive camera and lens), I couldn’t help but jump out of my seat–GREAT seat, 15 rows behind home plate–and scream loudly and applaud lustily, when Carlos hit his first ever home run in Minute Maid Park.  I also took this shot just after he crossed home plate.  In the words of A-Rod, "HAH!"

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While we were not at the the 17-inning game, my husband and I did watch it on TV and stayed with the whole game.  Having been at Minute Maid Park and thus having seen the slope of Tal’s Hill and also having witnessed first-hand the venom of the fans for Beltran, it felt even MORE exhilirating watching that AMAZING catch that he made going up Tal’s Hill! 

And how interesting to hear later that when he was with Houston, he and coach Jose Cruz used to go out and practice catching flies going up that hill each and every day.  But, he added, that he had never once been in a situation where he had had to make a catch there before that game.  But when the time came, was he ready or WHAT??!!

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In no particular order, then, here are some other little "remembrances" from the Houston road trip:

The opportunity to see the kinder, gentler side of the Houston fans in the "afterglow" of the whole Craig Biggio/3,000 hit celebration.  We arrived in Houston exactly one week after Second Baseman Biggio had hit is career 3,000th run, and it was safe to say that the festivities were far from over.  The "count up" meter was still running, "3,000 hit" T-shirt and cap sales were brisk, and every plate appearance by this career Astro was marked by thunderous applause and cheers.

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It was also a delight to catch a glimpse of close friends and former teammates Billy Wagner and Craig Biggio sharing a conversation in between the Mets’ BP and Astros’ BP before Friday night’s game. 

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I’m sure the conversation was much lighter and preferable to the tension between the two the previous night when Billy faced his friend and former colleague in the bottom of the ninth with one man on and the count 2-2 and through him his wicked slider to watch him strike out and clinch the 6-2 victory for the Mets.

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An "audience participation" moment on the big screen:  a marriage proposal.  (At Shea, we have the "Kiss Cam".)  The whole crowd is engrossed in the drama of the young man proposing to the young lady and anxiously awaiting her replay onscreen.  Except for a Met fan three rows behind us who’s shouting, "DON’T DO IT!!  DON’T DO IT!!"

Story doesn’t end there:  the next night at the next game, prior to the national anthem, the fans are asked to rise and observe as a handful of new Army recruits take their official oath of office and are sworn in in front of all of us. 

At this point, I turn to my husband and say, "DON’T DO IT!  DON’T DO IT!"

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Fans with toy stick ponies, waving them around.  "That’s cute," I thought.  "I wonder what that’s about?"  The year’s "campaign" for the Astro’s is "The Return of the Good Guys" and features a kind of Western gun-slinging "Wanted" poster-like background.  I thought the toy ponies might be in keeping with some kind of cowboy, Western theme??

But then I started noticing that the large screen showed fans waving those stick ponies every time a certain player came up to the plate:  Carlos Lee.

I still couldn’t make the connection until the next day when I was in the gift shop at the ballpark and saw player T-shirts.  On Lee’s T-shirt was his number and his nickname:  "El Caballo" (The horse.)  Aha…got it!

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Feeling drips on me as I settled into my seat for the beginning of the first game even though the roof was closed and figuring, "Oh great!  We just got here and the fans are already throwing water on us!" 

Turned out that, because of the heavy rains we had had earlier in the day, the roof was leaking and small drips continued to splash on me throughout the game. 

"We always put the Met fans in that seat," an Astros fan next to me jokingly ribbed me. 

And, by the way, thank GOODNESS for that (leaking) roof since it rained every day we were in Houston!

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Singing "Deep in the Heart of Texas" [clap clap clap clap] with my daughter in the seventh inning.  With the words on the giant screen and every other line being "deep in the heart of Texas", it’s easy to join right in even if you’ve never heard the song before.  She even slipped in a nice little twang on "hawwrt"…precious!

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Watching my daughter toss Billy Wagner a baseball from above the Visitors’ Dugout, having him catch it, sign it, and toss it back to her, and then seeing the excitement on her face.

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Watching games from 15 rows behind home plate.  Wow!  But especially watching John Maine and Billy Wagner each with their good stuff just go to work.  Absolutely amazing.  Check out my "Houston Road Trip" photo album for some pictures from that vantage point if you have a minute.

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  And, as always, the opportunity to get really close to the players in a place outside of New York where people are less uptight about security, the crowds are not usually as big, and the players are sometimes more approachable, presumably since the Mets fans are a somewhat unexpected sight.