I took off from work at 4:45 and started driving down I-90. I got to the Cumberland station around 5:20, pretty good timing. That toll merge right before the exit is such a pain in the neck, I have to say. I took the blue line five stops to the Addison station and connected to the 152 bus, which goes straight east on Addison directly to the ballpark. It took about a ten-minute wait with about 50 people boarding along with me. I can’t say it was ideal, but in terms of time, it was better than taking the blue line all the way south to Jackson only to take the red line a half hour ride north.
I met up with Q at the gate and he handed me my vintage Kerry Wood ticket. I passed on picking up a David DeJesus bobblehead and grabbed a bison dog and Sierra Mist. Although I asked for Mountain Dew, I get a Sierra Mist. Seriously, can we bring Coke and Coke products back into the ballparks already? That’s why I drink more beer at these games now, because I can’t stand the sodas! Anyway, I added grilled onions, yellow mustard, tomatoes, green relish, and a dash of celery salt to my dog. I enjoyed it very much. And for fifty cents more than a regular dog, it’s well worth it.
So we sat in Section 226 and the wind was blowing directly in from left center field and the breeze was cold to boot. I probably should have brought my gray Mets hoodie. So the game began and Johan really looked solid for most of this game. His changeup danced all over the plate and for most of his six innings, the Cub hitters had no chance against him. Chicago mounted a few threats, but he managed to escape.
The Mets, on the other hand, made Travis Wood look like Steve Carlton, Sandy Koufax, and Clayton Kershaw all rolled into one. And the Mets are great at making any left-handed pitcher, except for David Price, look like Carlton and Koufax. And they let this clown Wood pitch seven smooth innings, and managed just five hits and scored no runs. And this one at-bat really annoyed me. In the top of the fourth, Lucas Duda saw three pitches. He took all three and every one was a strike. Absolutely no excuse at all for not pulling the trigger at least once in that at bat. None.
You just got the feeling one run would make the difference. And in the bottom of the fourth, that’s exactly what happened. After a two-out walk, Joe the Beaver Mather drills a shot into the stiff Chicago wind and knocks it two rows deep into the left field bleachers. As scrappy as the Mets may be, I knew right there that they were in a whole heap of trouble.
It got even worse in the seventh inning. With runners on first and second and two down, Justin Turner pinch hit for Santana. Lazy flyout to center field. Adrian Cardenas, whoever he is, leads off and pops one up high. Two feet in front of home plate. Wright charges in, calls off Mike Nickeas, and shuffled his feet; he looked completely flustered. The ball bounces off his glove and rolls all the way to the backstop. Cardenas takes third and I knew it was over. I took off and stood on the corner of Addison and Clark, waiting for the 152 bus. Little did I know the Mets would make two more errors that inning, leading to four more Cub runs. Sure, Ike Davis drilled one out in the top of the ninth but it was a classic Mike Cameron-esque home run. Because the game was over and it was a meaningless solo shot. Mets lose 6-1. I drop to 2-18 in Wrigley Field. What a total disgrace.
I wish I could change who CI roots for, but I know it would never be genuine. This whole thing would be fun, if once in a while, my guys could have a moment of triumph. I don’t know how long it’ll last (happy AB?), but one thing is for sure. I will never date a Yankee/Giant fan ever again.
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