Angel Chevrestt
Angel Chevrestt
Angel Chevrestt
Angel Chevrestt
Angel Chevrestt
Angel Chevrestt
Angel Chevrestt
Angel Chevrestt
Angel Chevrestt
Angel Chevrestt
As the young man stepped through the bullpen gate onto the warning track at the edge of right field in Citi Field, he gasped, "Oh, my God."
Sign him up! Three-year-old Connor warms up — maybe the Mets will need him to pitch.Photo: Angel Chevrestt
No, this wasn't Mets closer Jenrry Mejía running to the mound in a tight game. It was my 17-year-old son, Peter — a Mets fan since birth (he watched them clobber the Phillies 8-4 on the hospital-room TV three hours after his arrival). He was here with the rest of the family, and about 300 other fans, on a recent Saturday when the Mets were in San Diego, for the team's annual sleepover at the stadium. On the field!
He tiptoed across the red dirt and gazed at the cathedral-like vista of seats and scoreboards, glowing in the late afternoon light. Then he and his dad, laughing, whipped off their sneakers and walked barefoot through the grass.
The sleepover, (which cost $200 per person and included meals, snacks and a pillow) let us see one of NYC's iconic spots from a new perspective. We fans had a whole night with the place to ourselves, snoozing on the outfield grass, wriggling our toes in its dirt. If Mets stars Matt Harvey and David Wright have done that, they've kept it pretty quiet.
Brothers Logan, 7 (from left), and Nolan, 5, along with pal Chase, 8, pretend they're phoning the bullpen to get a Mets reliever warmed up.Photo: Angel Chevrestt
My younger kids, Teresa, 15, and Xavier, 10, followed Peter onto the field, picking their way through duffel bags and ground cloths. One group was inflating an air mattress. Others were pitching tents (I counted 56 of them) on the warning track. We picked a spot in shallow center, where we've seen outfielder Juan Lagares snare fly balls with style, and plopped our sleeping bags down.
First off, we had to have a catch. Digging out the ball and gloves, Peter and his dad joined the fans in left field who'd had the same thought. Xavier just wanted to run around sans shoes ("No rocks!"). Teresa tried on the satin sleep mask she'd received from the Mets at the gate.
Our on-field neighbor, Ron Renna, 45, of Hillsborough, NJ, was laying out gear with his son Zachary, 10. "Awesome," said Renna, a pharmaceutical sales rep. "You feel like you're part of the place. Zack says that now he can appreciate the pressure that players are under."
After running around the field, we built up an appetite. Dinner was a kid's dream: unlimited hot dogs, pizza, soda and an ice cream sundae bar, with fruit juice and tossed salad on hand to appease the moms. Peter dropped his dog to go meet Mets legend Ed Kranepool, returning with a story of how he'd shown off his 1969 World Series ring. Peter pronounced it "so cool." Also on hand for photo ops: Mr. — and Mrs. — Met.
After dinner, the Mets-Padres game from San Diego was shown on the stadium screens, and, once the game was done, a movie, complete with late-night snacks.
Photos with Mr. and Mrs. Met!Photo: Angel Chevrestt
"I'm kvelling," said Charlotte Sasso, 52, a store owner from Amagansett, LI, there with her 10-year-old son, Dante. "At his age, these are his heroes. To sleep so close to the spot where Daniel Murphy stands is huge for him," she said, referring to the Mets second baseman.
Before the game came on, we did some exploring. The infield was roped off, but both dugouts were open. Peter and I goofed around on the phones ("Get Mejía hot!") and crouched on the top step like manager Terry Collins. We could even use the dugout bathrooms. By the looks of things, lots of guys liked the idea of going where many Mets had gone before.
The late-night snack spread (doughnuts, popcorn, soft pretzels, candy — the works) was out for hours. Our kids meandered back and forth for munchies as Lagares struck out to end the game. The stadium lights dimmed, and the film "Angels in the Outfield" began. Sugared-up children played tag in their PJs, before, one by one, dropping off to sleep.
I strolled around the ballpark at 1:45 a.m., with the movie over and lights low. There was none of the rowdiness you might see at a game with beered-up fans. I settled down to rest.
And I learned a couple of things on this sleepover:
1) The ground that produces that lush lawn is rock-hard.
2) When it rains, you're not allowed to nap in the dugout.
At right, little fan Jovanny, 4, is tuckered out from the sleepover.Photo: Angel Chevrestt
Ten minutes of drizzle won't kill you, but it sure does break up your slumber. "Another rain delay," groaned my husband the third time it happened. The plane screaming overhead from LaGuardia at 4:19 a.m. didn't help. But who expects a full night's sleep at a sleepover at a baseball stadium?
As dawn broke, it hit me: We're in the middle of a major-league ballpark. Funny how quickly it had come to feel as familiar as my living room.
The sound of recorded church bells booming over the sound system woke us at 6 a.m. Teresa jammed her pillow (blue and orange and very comfy, courtesy of a Mets sponsor) over her head. Mr. and Mrs. Met bounded onto the field to rouse drowsy fans. Mrs. Met sashayed over and Xavier reached out a hand for a high-five before huddling back in his bag.
Some rushed to get in one last game of catch. We rolled up our damp bedding and stumbled toward a breakfast of muffins, fruit and doughnuts.
Ron and Zachary Renna were also on their way out. "It was exciting to wake up and see I was in Citi Field," said Zachary.
"He peeked out and said, 'Dad, I love you, and I want to do this again next year,' " Renna said. "What can you say? That was the moment for me."
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