It wasn't my intent to attend back-to-back Phillies-Mets games. Over the past month there had been two separate, developing conversations about how it'd be great to catch some baseball, and eventually these two plans coincided on consecutive days. It's not a strategy I'd necessarily recommend to anyone, especially with the U.S. Open happening in the same area, but mostly it was a pleasant if slightly tiring time. That said, getting on TV was perhaps the least eventful part.
The first game, on Monday night, was nice. Sitting in the outfield at the 300 level with my friends, we watched the Mets erase an early 3-0 deficit, then thump the Phillies in the later innings. Catcher and No. 9 hitter Luis Torrens bashed a three-run homer as part of his three-hit, five-RBI night. The most notable moment of the game was when Phillies third baseman Alec Bohm caused a long delay after he pointed out a weird little thing in the outfield. There were Philadelphia fans everywhere, but they filtered out in the late stages of New York's 13-3 win. As someone who didn't have an investment in the outcome but just wanted to see a fun game, it delivered. This season, I had attended five straight games, across three stadiums, in which the home team lost, so it was a relief to break the slump. There was one memorable postgame moment, too: As we waited in a parked 7 train to start the journey home, a woman wearing a Juan Soto jersey barfed on herself, then fled the crowded car to barf more in a trash can on the platform. The train left without her, but some of her barf remained on the floor.
Tuesday's game, which ended with Brandon Nimmo's walk-off single in a 6-5 Mets victory, was another story. To put it bluntly, too much shit was going on. This time my ticket was closer to the outfield, in a section right next to the Home Run Apple. As I waited in the concessions line during the national anthem—it just worked out that way, but also, a great time to get food—I received a bizarre update from my friend via text: Someone in the row behind him got mad at his supposed anthem disrespect (sitting down) and threw his hat onto the field. (He got his hat back.)
This obviously varies by American city or region, but anecdotal evidence had suggested to me that most people in New York City don't really care whether you stand or sit for the anthem. Nobody has said anything to me when I've been seated, anyway. The most recent instance of anything different was at a Pittsburgh Pirates game earlier this summer, when an old guy behind me in line for concessions kept grumbling about how my friend and I should take off our hats, and called us assholes. Brother, we have not said a word to you, and we're both waiting to buy hot dogs. Whatever the perceived disrespect, it's mutual.
When I got to my seat last night, I was sitting closest to Anthem Dickhead, so I just had to ask: What made him think it was OK to do that? As you might expect, Anthem Dickhead said it was about respecting the anthem. In a moment of what he surely thought was grace, he said that he considered the case closed. I did not consider the case closed. We argued about his psychotic behavior for a couple of minutes before he gave a half-assed apology, but only after I brought up the idea of telling security and getting him tossed out. Anthem Dickhead did not bother us for the rest of the night. I'll be honest: It was invigorating to yell at him.
The Anthem Dickhead Encounter felt almost quaint a few innings later. Since I wasn't involved, I can't relay the objective truth, but from my perspective, it began as a classic "Sorry, these are our seats" situation. From what I picked up, the false seat owners argued that they were in the right spot, while the real seat owners disagreed. Of course, all of them were standing up in the middle of gameplay, so the fans behind them started to get angry. This was just as both teams started to fill up the scoreboard, too. Bryce Harper knocked in two runs while I was trying to figure out what was going on, and the woman of the false seat duo was flipping the bird and trying to get in the face of anyone close to her. There was a lot of hold-me-back stuff happening, though no one threw a punch. Security staff and two cops eventually showed up and escorted the false seat duo out of there. I'm pretty sure Mr. and Mrs. Met were doing some kind of televised riff on Travis Kelce's engagement to Taylor Swift at that point, but it was a bit of a blur. I think there was maybe a scuffle at the top of the stairs, but I didn't get up to check. Also, the entire section disconcertingly smelled like shrimp.
Right after the false seat duo left, the Mets scored five runs.
The game was good, too. With the score tied at five in the bottom of the ninth, Phillies closer Jhoan Duran allowed four straight singles, concluding with Nimmo's walk-off hit. After Starling Marte's leadoff hit in that inning, the TNT Sports broadcast showed me on TV, wearing my Hell Gate hat. Unfortunately my Defector tote bag was at my feet, so I wasn't able to promote two worker-owned media companies at once. While doing research later, I learned that someone in a Reddit thread considers Section 139 one of the rowdier areas in the ballpark. In retrospect, that makes sense for good outfield seats. The little kids who chanted "Fuck Bryce Harper" were in line with what I expected; the rest was a little much. At least this time nobody air-fucked a T-shirt.
