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WPCNR VIEW FROM THE UPPER DECK. APRIL 13, 2009: The New York Mets open new CitiField this evening on Opening Day with temperatures expected in the 40s wasting as it turns out, a beautiful day. So, in celebration of the best day of the year, Opening Day, WPCNR revives this original ode to the best day of the year.

WRIGLEY FIELD, 1975
Photo, WPCNR Sports
OPENING DAY is better than Christmas Day,
When you look out the window and you know they’ll play,
Whether dreary gray or billiant spring sun’s ray
Opening Day means the Big Show is back today.
In decades past, Opening Day was for fanatics starved,
Eager for the sharp crack of ash on horsehide carved;
The flutter of pennants snapping in northwest winds
Atop ramparts of inviting arches of walls, and sculpted friezes wistfully escarped.
Fans lucky to get away with ducats
Marveled at grown men in boys’ flannels and sharp whites pristeen,
Back to play in April’s warm zephyrs in NY blazened caps,
Dashing specks of white warming up on the sprawl of the greenest green.
Motor cars panting in good-natured traffic jams on Major Deegan,
Or down
Through windows you see first glimpse of the storied Park,
The place where ball is played, where ghosts of Ted, Babe, Duke
Mel, Spahnie, Whitey, Mickey, Willie, Yaz, Minnie and Sandy lark.
Paying a White Plains fine to park, passing stogie smoking old men
at the same gates for a hundred years,
Now out into the street
You go, aroma of roasting chestnuts, pungent cigars sweet,
Cries of “scorecard heah” “programs,heah” shout out, neath light towers to heaven.
Fans in cap and uniform, little boys and girls gawk in awe hoping to make the Anthem
Never seeing such sheer walls, topped with the legend “GameToday 1:30 PM.”
Clutching slim cardboard tix to Section 14 Upper Deck up to the turnstiles
Festooned with souvenirs more dear as diamonds, beyond, the lure of endless aisles.
Into the press of crowd, the grizzled usher, RIPS YOUR TICKET.
Turnstile turns, clicks, and into the castle of ball you go
Into the rotunda greeted with magic signs dazzling the senses —
UPPER LEVELS SECTIONS 1 to 39, 2 to 40
Hawkers shout –Voices of Flatbush — colorful books in hand
“Yearbook heah,” “Dodger Yearbook here,” “Hot dog, heah,”
Assail your ears up the ramps you walk to the sign “NEXT HOMESTAND”
Out the suspended catwalk where sliver of green,first glimpse of the magic sphere
Into the sunlight splaying the vast rake down of the mighty suspended grand stand.
Spread out are knights of the diamond in white hues
Cavorting, snapping throws across immaculate red clay
As majestic fungos CRACK! sending spheres soaring to filling bleachers a mile away,
Bunting flutters from the deck’s rails red, white and true blues.
Old glory unfurls on high pole in center field
Colorful signs deliver manly flavor of the only real game,
GILLETTE To Look Sharp, The Red Sox use Lifeboy, Schaefer It’s A Hit
Hey, Neighbor Have a Gansett, White Owl Cigars, Hit Sign Win Suit
From old familiar walls, to Gladys Gooding on the organ
Friendly old green scoreboard displaying
Today’s games around the big leagues BETTER THAN CNN
CHI CLE BOS DET, CHI STL, NY WAS make you king for a day.
Two Bits for scorecard, usher wipes your seat, ballpark fills your heart.
Penciling in the lineup 42 2B, 1 SS, 14 1B, 4 CF, 39 C, 6 RF, 23 LF 19 3B 36 P
Smell of beer, peanuts and salty pretzels entice
The air is nippy, warm rays sink into your face feels nice,
Starting pitchers wheel and deal, kicking high on sidelines fueling expectancy
Men in blue, arms folded solemnly conduct the home plate regimen
Casey, Ralph , Walter, Joe and Sparky exchange lineup cards and knowing
Ground rules by heart they go over them for ritual’s sake.
Announcer entones “Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen,
Welcome to the friendly confines.”
“Please rise for the playing of our national anthem,”
The stadium organ note by note peels baseball’s theme
Rising on the breeze, uniting do-rag and ball cap,
Fedora, ponytail and bouffant in the spirit of the great game.
Grass is never greener than on Opening Days
Strikes are louder, long drives bound gleefully to the wall up the alleys
Beers with THICK creamy heads, taste crisp cold and mellow gold blaze.
Smashes laser through short and in the gap igniting raucous rallies
Magicians without wands start 6-4-3s,
Backhand sure hits losing their caps
“Oh what a play’s” crackle on WGN with “CUBS WIN’S”
Jack and Mel, Vince, Red, Curt and Murph are back at the mike to turn mundane days Into joy with a ninth inning elixir and “happy recaps”
Thunderous ROARS accolades the 2-out winner again creating big kids’ grins.




