Opening Day just didn’t look the same to me this year. That could be because I was in Cincinnati.
Opening Day as you may know used to be a big deal in the Queen City, where they honored longevity by giving the Reds the first crack at starting each new season. That tradition went away some time ago but it was still a festive occasion, particularly outside the stadium before the game started. Once it did, all the energy vanished and the Reds went down easy.
I contemplated wearing my Tom Seaver Mets jersey to honor the former Cincinnati great but it wasn’t about me. The Reds’ starter, Andrew Abbott, wore 41 instead.
We sat just to the 3rd base side of the famous notch or whatever its called, in the 400s. It was my first tip to that stadium and will remark the stands along the first base side of the notch are laid out almost exactly like Citi Field. They have a dumb steamboat in the outfield where we have a fake bridge, and we have more outfield seating overall. On the third base side of the notch the 400 section is twice is deep and the 500 has fewer rows.
The game, a rematch of the 1975 World Series, went to Boston 3-0.
We were getting lunch outside the stadium when we learned that the Mets had somehow knocked Paul Skenes out of the box in the first inning. I was certain that was going to be a typical low scoring opening day like 3-0, 301, or 2-1 for either team but baseball can surprise you.
As noted Carson Benge made the team and changed his uni No. to 3; Richard Lovelady survived the relief pitching hunger games and got a new number, 55. Here’s to home games in 2026.
Then there was the drudgery of keeping the data fresh. At some point, the work here became less about the Mets and more about chronicling whichever 13th reliever the Mets had up for the day. By the time he’s entered in, he’s gone, and I’m like anyone else looking up what number the next one is wearing on Mets.com. In a few days or weeks I’ve forgotten these guys even existed much less their predecessor in No. 68 or 82. Seems like, there was a time when obscure Mets had a story behind their obscurity. Now they’re too damn ephemeral, and even where the job is writing it down, my memory cannot fit any more Richard Loveladys or Jonathan Pintaros.
I’m also fatigued with uni-number retirements if you want to know the truth. There’s definitely some dissonance associated with chronicling numbers for a team with fundamental differences in the purpose of them. Please reissue 8 today.