Second-Class Citizens

By Jack Flynn
Posted Wednesday, April 15, 2009

I do not like the Jackie Robinson Rotunda.

There, I said it.

I was not filled with awe and reverence the first time I entered Citi Field, the way I was ostensibly supposed to be. Jackie Robinson is an iconic figure in baseball history, and I respect the place he has in the hearts of many people.

But he played for the Brooklyn Dodgers, not the New York Mets.

So I was not moved by the larger-than-life royal blue “42” that fans were inexplicably posing for pictures next to. I was not inspired by the Franklin Covey-esque buzzwords stenciled onto the walls. I was not impressed with the endless loops of grainy television footage of a baseball player who did his best work in a stadium that has since been replaced by a housing project.

I was disappointed.

I was disappointed to find out that the main entrance to the new stadium that I’ve for so long to enter has been made into a tribute to a player that never even wore a Mets uniform – and to a team that left town over 50 years ago.

A tribute to a Brooklyn Dodger.

Mets fans enter their team’s new stadium – a stadium that from the outside is also supposed to evoke memories of that long-dead team from the Borough of Churches – and are inundated with images of a man who played the game at a time where the home team did not even exist.

What other Major League Baseball team would ever build a shrine to a player that never even wore their uniform?

All over the league, new ballparks have been opening up – 20 in the last 18 years. These stadiums all share one thing in common – they feature tributes to the players and the team that the city has come to love.

Pittsburgh Pirates fans walk over the Roberto Clemente Bridge and meet in front of statues honoring iconic players in franchise history. Detroit Tigers fans are treated to a “Monument Park” honoring the accomplishments of former Tigers inside their new stadium. Philadelphia Phillies fans stroll an “All-Star Walk” that chronicles every All-Star Game appearance by a Philadelphia player in franchise history.

It rankles me to no end that Mets fans get to enjoy no such sense of pride or accomplishment in their own team at Citi Field. Instead, the accomplishments of another man and, to a lesser extent, another franchise are offered up for celebration and reverence.

Is this franchise’s history of so little importance to the Wilpon family that they thought it more important to build a monument to the Brooklyn Dodgers and their heroes? Perhaps instead of a gigantic outdoor food court, it would’ve been nice to see something celebrating the 48 seasons that the Mets have played National League Baseball. Apparently that was too much to ask.

April 15 is Jackie Robinson Day, a celebration of the man’s life and accomplishments. One might argue that Major League Baseball is more interested in annually celebrating Robinson’s legacy that figuring out why so few African-Americans play baseball today, but that’s a discussion for another day.

Jackie Robinson has an entire day in Major League Baseball to honor his legacy. His number has been retired by every team and hangs on the wall of every major league stadium. Was it really necessary to also dedicate an essential design feature of the Mets’ new stadium to him as well?

I know that I risk being branded with all sorts of pejoratives for admitting to my distaste for the rotunda. I am not a misanthrope, though, and I understand that the Jackie Robinson Rotunda is supposed to be about something more than baseball.

I can accept that. Robinson broke baseball’s shameful color barrier and was a legitimately great baseball player to boot.

It doesn’t mean he deserves a hero’s welcome in a stadium built for a team he never played for.

I do not go to baseball games for lessons about courage, determination and teamwork. I do not go to baseball games to stroll down memory lane and revel in the accomplishments of a player and a team that I have no connection to.

I go to baseball games to enjoy the game of baseball. I go to baseball games to sit with my friends and debate the contemporary issues facing the sport. I go to baseball games to be entertained, not to be socially programmed.

I go to baseball games to cheer for my favorite team – the New York Mets.

A team that, sadly, is a second-class citizen in its own home.