Meet The Mets, Grandpa

I have a 93-year-old grandfather who moves around better than I do and gets mentally sharper by the day. My grandpa is the nicest old man you will ever meet. He likes to talk whether he knows you or not. (Word to the wise: If you smile back to what he says, he's going to talk to you for a good hour so just something to think about.) If you do engage him in conversation, speak up. His hearing isn't what it used to be. When I talk to him on the phone, I have to put the phone on the counter, lean in, and use my diaphragm. In his over 93 years of existence, there are rumors that he left the town limits once or twice but I don't give them any credence. The man knows his neighborhood and anything beyond is foreign, uncharted, and potentially dangerous territory.

My grandpa has become a big Mets fan over the past 10 years or so. My grandma became a Yankees fan later in her life and he just wanted to root against her so he went with the Mets. That's 60+ years of love right there. My grandma left us a couple of years ago and now he spends his days watching the Mets and Yankees, shaking his head when the former loses and the latter wins. There's a lot of head shaking going on this year. Regardless, baseball passes the time for him.

This leads us to yesterday. I had extra tickets to the game and my wife and I thought about how great it would be to get Grandpa to go. The problem was that the Mets don't play in Elmwood Park, New Jersey. They play in the aforementioned foreign, uncharted, and potentially (currently upgrading to definitely) dangerous territory of Not Elmwood Park, New Jersey. So we kidnapped him. I brought my mother (the convincer) and father (the muscle) and we got him in the car.

The car ride was going to be the tough part. We told him it was only 30 miles to the stadium and left out that it takes 2 hours to travel that distance. He's been around almost 94 years, he might not notice 2 hours, right? Didn't matter. We got to the game in about 50 minutes which was the fastest I've ever done it. Luck, God, Billy Mays, they were all on our side.

Watching my wide-eyed grandpa walk through CitiField is something I will always remember. Everything was "so big" and there were "a lot of Mets fans." When we told the elevator operator that this was his first time at a game, she said, "ever?" She followed that with, "Is he from this country?" We laughed and then I punched her in the face yelling, "DON'T YOU EVER MAKE FUN OF MY GRANDPA!!" We hurried out of there and to our seats.

The game started off poorly. The Mets got down 3-1 early. Grandpa spent most of the time enamored with the Jumbotron (and shaking his head, of course). He told me Oliver Perez "stinks" and they should "get him out of there." Manuel listened. Perez came out and the game turned around. The Mets tied it and Tatis, for Grandpa, hit a grand slam to put the game out of reach. K-Rod came in for the ninth and finished it up while Grandpa mimicked K-Rod's celebratory hand gestures. The night was a huge success.

Grandpa spent the car ride home babbling like a 3rd grader after the Greatest Field Trip in the History of the World. He enjoyed every second of it but he was glad to be back home where I'm sure he'll watch the game again on his kitchen television where the threat of Queens can't get to him. Thanks to the Mets for coming through and making the night a success. You brought joy to a man that has brought me so much and because of that, I forgive you for this season.

And you said the Mets don't do anything great. Look at that smile.

My Night At Citi Field As An Ugly Betty Extra

I had been meaning to be an extra for some time just to experience a real TV show filming. When "Ugly Betty" was looking for Mets fans to fill in Citi Field for an upcoming episode, I jumped all over it. I've got two thumbs and am a huge Mets fan!

Apparently, there are extra lifers. They live to be extras and let everyone know how much they love it. I met one. He told me he got to play a dead guy on a show (will refrain naming it to be nice). Shortly after that, I found out he was a photo of a dead person on a memorial wall, not an actual body. That's real background work when you can't even play a dead person in three dimensions. Dude was proud of it.

The holding area for extras is a desolate warehouse. Plastic tables and folding chairs as far as the eye can see. SAG seating and Non-SAG seating are strictly divided like Germany before 1990. Wait, I can do more. Divided like numbers on a fifth grade math test. Wait. Divided like a house with an inability to remain upright. Anyway, SAG is apparently better. They get more pay. They get seats with an index card reading "SAG" on it. They get food. When SAG is done eating, Non-SAG is allowed to go up and pick the carcass of the craft service table. The best example was the Ugly Betty cupcakes. There were possibly two left when SAG was done. I'd describe the cupcakes but they were crushed and left for dead. SAG can be cruel.

Once shooting began, we were led like cattle through the bowels of Citi Field to the best seats in the stadium. These are the padded recliner-like seats you dream about being in as you gaze upon them with binoculars from the upper deck cursing the rich people that never use them or give them away. Why are these empty every time I watch the game on TV?

The scene has Betty and three other cast members attending a Mets game. About 60 of us fill in the seats behind. I'm 9 rows back of America Ferrera mostly because I didn't push my way to the front. A man teaches us the hand signals he will be flashing to indicate action on the field. (i.e. A closed fist means a strike out.) When a signal goes up, we are to mime our reactions - pretend to clap, point where the ball goes, shake fist in anger, make sure the box doesn't close in on you. The signal man has no sense of the pace of a game. There is no possible way for a strikeout to happen that quickly after a double. The imagined player just slid into second! What is this, Amateur Hour?

After the first take, a set PA comes up to me and taps me on the shoulder. I am leaving my seat and everyone around me is wondering what's going on. She informs me that I am to return to my seat during filming like I just went to the bathroom during the game. Apparently this is a huge deal. All the other Mets-attired extras are trying to figure out what made me so special. I felt like the chosen alien from the crane game in "Toy Story."

My opportunity of having my lower torso in the shot was taken away as fast as it was given. The soda vendor, on the next take, moved faster than in the previous take and went into my row blocking my way back to my seat. As any person attending a real game would do, I waited for him to finish but the scene ended by then. The important people liked that take and I was told (with apologies) to stay in my seat the rest of the way. This was supposed to be upsetting as the other extras consoled me. I mimed anger.

Redemption came when they changed camera angles. I moved, along with half of the extras, to a different set of seats to fill in the new background. This time, a different PA tapped me on the shoulder and told me to count to 20 and get up and take a seat a few rows up. I was living the extra dream. The director yelled action and I counted. I went with a good pace. I thought about using Mississippis but I chose against it. On 20, I got up and moved down three rows. When I got there, a soda was handed to me. I tried passing it further down the row but the guys indicated they didn't order it. Sweet! Free fake soda! I really hope this gets on the show because you will see me get up, take a better seat, and get a free soda. The later the take they use, the more entitled to the soda I will look. By the end, I had my hand out waiting for the soda.

For the next scene, the PA told me to count to 10 and return to my original seat. Have any of these people ever been to a baseball game? Why would I do that? It makes no sense. I reluctantly did it but only because I knew it would up my chances of being noticed thereby pleasing my mother. 

I don't know when it will air. I'll post it when I find out. Overall, it was a cool experience seeing how they set up the shots and all the equipment that is required. I won't go into all the detail but let's just say it's more than the Handycam I use for my videos. We were only there for 6 hours which is unheard of for extra work so I was definitely spoiled on my first time. Will I do it again? Sure. Just have to find a 15 hour block in my schedule that works.

Random things:

• America Ferrera has a really tiny head. I'm not sure why it looks so large on camera.
• There is no way to clap with genuine enthusiasm without touching your hands together.
• The girl who plays Hazel on "Gossip Girl" had to do the scene with sky-high heels and a skirt (Seriously? Not practical for a game.). It was really cold out. To put in perspective, Ol' Tiny Head was in a sweater, poncho, pants, and Uggs. She got away with it because she never had to stand up.
• Extras must be known to be weirdos. There was one woman that had a Mr. Met stuffed animal. Every time a crew member asked her to move, she asked, "Mr. Met too?" Nobody ever acted annoyed or worried. It was frightening.