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It was easy to get emotional reading everything in this thread, article included. Charlie Hough threw the first pitch when I was just six years old, and since then the Marlins have been close to a little brother for me. There are so many memories, good and bad, that lots of them fall through the cracks even though they're all valuable.
I remember that my dad had a friend who had great company seats. My first game was in a skybox, complete with a bunch of the giveaways for that year. I got to go home with pins and balls and miniature helmets. I thought it was coolest thing ever. I remember getting to go on my birthday in 96 (I think), and "calling" the game in one of the booths. I used to do it at home all the time and it was awesome to put the gear on and just talk through the ninth inning. I'm pretty sure my mom still has the VHS somewhere. We played the Expos that night.
I remember the long, skinny tickets that were arranged vertically and had both teams' logos on them. I used to find it fascinating that the coupon on the back was always for Arby's, but I never knew where one in Miami was. This was in the era of awesome promotions - cups, shirts, pins, baseballs, and later bobbleheads. I even remember going to the first interleague game ever for us - Marlins vs Yankees, with Cecil Fielder manning first for this team that everyone seemed to love for some reason. We went to the playoffs that year, and I remember sitting in the upper deck behind the Marlins' dugout against the Braves. Man, I hated the Braves. I caught a ball that day that said 1997 NLCS and won another one that was from the ASG in Cleveland. Even had the special red and blue stitching to prove it. I think I guessed the number of stitches on a ball.....or they just felt like giving it to the short kid with a hat that was too big.
I remember Game 1 of the 97 WS - the only one I got to go to that year. I'd never seen that many people anywhere before. I'll never forget Alou and CJ's homers, the story of the guy who caught the latter, and Robb Nen getting the save while flash bulbs exploded everywhere.
I didn't get to go much between 98-02.....byproduct of not being able to drive anywhere. But when my friends started to drive and have cars, we started going more. 2003 represented kind of seminal moment in my life - I got to experience more freedom, and in turn I spent a ton of that time at JRS. That year I did my best to insist we always get to the games early so we could watch batting practice and heckle opponents from the Fish Tank. Some of our opponents appreciated this, some did not. At the time, Wendy's had chicken strips and we'd make a point of eating there before games to save money. When the Marlins kept winning, we kept going. Didn't want to mess with a good thing.
I vividly remember the Cubs absolutely murdering us around the ASB in the rain. It was good news from there, though, as we marched into the playoffs. I sat in the 1B bullpen box when Juan Pierre caught the fly ball that clinched our second Wild Card. We found our way into the postgame party that featured the first Pierre freestyle (it was really good, actually) and lots of drunk Marlins/fans. I dropped part of my chain inside and had to convince security to let me go back in to get it.
I spent nearly every dime I had on making sure I went to every postseason game possible that year (and only missed one). I remember hitching a ride with CC to Game 3 of the NLDS because I was sitting by myself in the CF Upper Deck. To this day, I think it's still my favorite game ever witnessed in person. I was in the RF seats when Dontrelle hit his triple and Pudge held on to the ball (almost exactly the same view as 97 WS Game 1) and remember wondering what in the world happened on the last play of the game. I saw the Cubs rip our hearts out in Game 3 and blow us out in Game 4. I sat in the Fish Tank for the latter, finding a plush Marlin that a Cub fan had dropped and vowing to name it after whoever performed best that day. Carl is still in my room, sitting in front of my TV. My eyes experienced Josh Beckett's first CG in Game 5 again from the Tank, where I have so many memories. I was legitimately worried that it was the last time we'd play that year.
Even with the loss, I still enjoyed the freezing rain of Game 3 of the WS because I got to hide in David's ghetto skybox and watch everyone scurry. I had a test the next day in the hardest class I've ever taken, but it didn't matter because the World Series isn't a birthright. That day is still the only night I got to see Mariano live. I missed Game 4, but I got to see Derrek Lee's fist pump at the end of Game 5 that made me believe we had it in the bag. I remember being so high up in the RF Upper Deck that night that my friend and I could read the serial number off the fighter that did the flyover. Those seats were close to $100.
I'm rambling, I know, but JRS was such an active part of my maturation. When we graduated high school, we went to a day game against the Reds and got Griffey to flick us off (which was in the Herald the next day for some reason). I was there when Dontrelle took a perfect game into the 7th, only to watch some idiot stand up and mention it. The very next pitch, Sean Casey hit a double and Adam Dunn followed that up with a homer. I saw Dontrelle-Randy from behind home plate. I was in the Fish Tank for Paul Lo Duca's first game, joking beforehand that it would be awesome if he had a wrestling style entrance in a helicopter in the middle of the game. I never missed an Opening Day after I started to drive, and I still take credit for the first Hee Seop Choi chant. I was there when he obliterated the ball against Philly, sitting in the 3B club level with CitanX. I saw Emilio's inside the parker, Buck's GS, and Smoltz get tatooed, all from row 2 of section 126 along with Claudio and Sandro. I saw Ramon Castro hit a walk-off home run from the 1B bullpen box and was at the Mordy game the next night. I was on top of the LF bullpen when our defense blew Dontrelle's chance at a Cy Young in the game that, to this day, I still feel is the worst loss in Marlins' history.
I remember JRS when it actually was JRS. I remember when fireworks used to come out of the Teal Monster when a homer was hit. It seemed so cool to me that the ball seemed to disappear into the pyrotechnics as whoever hit it rounded the bases. I remember running the bases as a kid every chance I got and getting to go to the press box when they had tours. I remember getting programs constantly and trying my best to keep score. I remember taking my glove and catching foul balls all the time, all of which I still have. I remember when the kid next to me, who I had just met that night, got hit in the head with line drive. I remember looking over to my right to see who was warming up for the Marlins and trying to guess the player by number. I remember my brother always making my mom get up and miss the game because he hated baseball. I remember walking into the stadium and instantly looking at the Monster to see what the lineups were. I remember when there were actually ushers who made you stay at the top of the section until an at bat was over. I remember post game fireworks and organ music and our old cheesy music. I remember looking on the titantron for muscle boy and to do the fish. I remember the Ice Girls and the fans that would bring the choo-choo train.
Most of all, I remember always thinking it was magical when I walked through the opening of the hallway and entered the section to head to my seat. The magic faded a little bit as the years progressed, mostly dependent on the team's success. I was just too used to the place by then. But every Fan Fest and every Opening Day, without fail, the first sight through the opening to the stairs that revealed the field would bring an incredible flow of happiness. There was just no feeling like it.
I'm overjoyed to be heading to the new ballpark. Like before, the Marlins are reflecting my life - as I leave school for the final time and finish entering adulthood, the team is leaving behind its first home and embracing what in reality is the perfect fit. We moved our seats closer to the infield in the new digs, which represents this even more. I'm maturing as a person and a major part of my life is doing it along with me. This'll be the park that will watch my ticket plan expand as I start a family and hopefully move up in the world. Just like the Marlins, this is a big year for me and I can't wait to see what it holds.
But as much as it's time for both me and the Marlins to grow past where JRS could take us, I'm going to miss the place. Sure, it'll still have football and special events, but it won't be the same. I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for her, because so many of my formative years and most passionate memories came within her confines. I've gone with friends, family, and significant others. To this day, it's one of the few places where I feel incredibly comfortable just going on my own. I'm going to miss the 75,000 sellouts and the 500 person specials. I'm going to miss the Florida Marlins and the teal and black.
But all good things end so better ones can begin.
I remember that my dad had a friend who had great company seats. My first game was in a skybox, complete with a bunch of the giveaways for that year. I got to go home with pins and balls and miniature helmets. I thought it was coolest thing ever. I remember getting to go on my birthday in 96 (I think), and "calling" the game in one of the booths. I used to do it at home all the time and it was awesome to put the gear on and just talk through the ninth inning. I'm pretty sure my mom still has the VHS somewhere. We played the Expos that night.
I remember the long, skinny tickets that were arranged vertically and had both teams' logos on them. I used to find it fascinating that the coupon on the back was always for Arby's, but I never knew where one in Miami was. This was in the era of awesome promotions - cups, shirts, pins, baseballs, and later bobbleheads. I even remember going to the first interleague game ever for us - Marlins vs Yankees, with Cecil Fielder manning first for this team that everyone seemed to love for some reason. We went to the playoffs that year, and I remember sitting in the upper deck behind the Marlins' dugout against the Braves. Man, I hated the Braves. I caught a ball that day that said 1997 NLCS and won another one that was from the ASG in Cleveland. Even had the special red and blue stitching to prove it. I think I guessed the number of stitches on a ball.....or they just felt like giving it to the short kid with a hat that was too big.
I remember Game 1 of the 97 WS - the only one I got to go to that year. I'd never seen that many people anywhere before. I'll never forget Alou and CJ's homers, the story of the guy who caught the latter, and Robb Nen getting the save while flash bulbs exploded everywhere.
I didn't get to go much between 98-02.....byproduct of not being able to drive anywhere. But when my friends started to drive and have cars, we started going more. 2003 represented kind of seminal moment in my life - I got to experience more freedom, and in turn I spent a ton of that time at JRS. That year I did my best to insist we always get to the games early so we could watch batting practice and heckle opponents from the Fish Tank. Some of our opponents appreciated this, some did not. At the time, Wendy's had chicken strips and we'd make a point of eating there before games to save money. When the Marlins kept winning, we kept going. Didn't want to mess with a good thing.
I vividly remember the Cubs absolutely murdering us around the ASB in the rain. It was good news from there, though, as we marched into the playoffs. I sat in the 1B bullpen box when Juan Pierre caught the fly ball that clinched our second Wild Card. We found our way into the postgame party that featured the first Pierre freestyle (it was really good, actually) and lots of drunk Marlins/fans. I dropped part of my chain inside and had to convince security to let me go back in to get it.
I spent nearly every dime I had on making sure I went to every postseason game possible that year (and only missed one). I remember hitching a ride with CC to Game 3 of the NLDS because I was sitting by myself in the CF Upper Deck. To this day, I think it's still my favorite game ever witnessed in person. I was in the RF seats when Dontrelle hit his triple and Pudge held on to the ball (almost exactly the same view as 97 WS Game 1) and remember wondering what in the world happened on the last play of the game. I saw the Cubs rip our hearts out in Game 3 and blow us out in Game 4. I sat in the Fish Tank for the latter, finding a plush Marlin that a Cub fan had dropped and vowing to name it after whoever performed best that day. Carl is still in my room, sitting in front of my TV. My eyes experienced Josh Beckett's first CG in Game 5 again from the Tank, where I have so many memories. I was legitimately worried that it was the last time we'd play that year.
Even with the loss, I still enjoyed the freezing rain of Game 3 of the WS because I got to hide in David's ghetto skybox and watch everyone scurry. I had a test the next day in the hardest class I've ever taken, but it didn't matter because the World Series isn't a birthright. That day is still the only night I got to see Mariano live. I missed Game 4, but I got to see Derrek Lee's fist pump at the end of Game 5 that made me believe we had it in the bag. I remember being so high up in the RF Upper Deck that night that my friend and I could read the serial number off the fighter that did the flyover. Those seats were close to $100.
I'm rambling, I know, but JRS was such an active part of my maturation. When we graduated high school, we went to a day game against the Reds and got Griffey to flick us off (which was in the Herald the next day for some reason). I was there when Dontrelle took a perfect game into the 7th, only to watch some idiot stand up and mention it. The very next pitch, Sean Casey hit a double and Adam Dunn followed that up with a homer. I saw Dontrelle-Randy from behind home plate. I was in the Fish Tank for Paul Lo Duca's first game, joking beforehand that it would be awesome if he had a wrestling style entrance in a helicopter in the middle of the game. I never missed an Opening Day after I started to drive, and I still take credit for the first Hee Seop Choi chant. I was there when he obliterated the ball against Philly, sitting in the 3B club level with CitanX. I saw Emilio's inside the parker, Buck's GS, and Smoltz get tatooed, all from row 2 of section 126 along with Claudio and Sandro. I saw Ramon Castro hit a walk-off home run from the 1B bullpen box and was at the Mordy game the next night. I was on top of the LF bullpen when our defense blew Dontrelle's chance at a Cy Young in the game that, to this day, I still feel is the worst loss in Marlins' history.
I remember JRS when it actually was JRS. I remember when fireworks used to come out of the Teal Monster when a homer was hit. It seemed so cool to me that the ball seemed to disappear into the pyrotechnics as whoever hit it rounded the bases. I remember running the bases as a kid every chance I got and getting to go to the press box when they had tours. I remember getting programs constantly and trying my best to keep score. I remember taking my glove and catching foul balls all the time, all of which I still have. I remember when the kid next to me, who I had just met that night, got hit in the head with line drive. I remember looking over to my right to see who was warming up for the Marlins and trying to guess the player by number. I remember my brother always making my mom get up and miss the game because he hated baseball. I remember walking into the stadium and instantly looking at the Monster to see what the lineups were. I remember when there were actually ushers who made you stay at the top of the section until an at bat was over. I remember post game fireworks and organ music and our old cheesy music. I remember looking on the titantron for muscle boy and to do the fish. I remember the Ice Girls and the fans that would bring the choo-choo train.
Most of all, I remember always thinking it was magical when I walked through the opening of the hallway and entered the section to head to my seat. The magic faded a little bit as the years progressed, mostly dependent on the team's success. I was just too used to the place by then. But every Fan Fest and every Opening Day, without fail, the first sight through the opening to the stairs that revealed the field would bring an incredible flow of happiness. There was just no feeling like it.
I'm overjoyed to be heading to the new ballpark. Like before, the Marlins are reflecting my life - as I leave school for the final time and finish entering adulthood, the team is leaving behind its first home and embracing what in reality is the perfect fit. We moved our seats closer to the infield in the new digs, which represents this even more. I'm maturing as a person and a major part of my life is doing it along with me. This'll be the park that will watch my ticket plan expand as I start a family and hopefully move up in the world. Just like the Marlins, this is a big year for me and I can't wait to see what it holds.
But as much as it's time for both me and the Marlins to grow past where JRS could take us, I'm going to miss the place. Sure, it'll still have football and special events, but it won't be the same. I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for her, because so many of my formative years and most passionate memories came within her confines. I've gone with friends, family, and significant others. To this day, it's one of the few places where I feel incredibly comfortable just going on my own. I'm going to miss the 75,000 sellouts and the 500 person specials. I'm going to miss the Florida Marlins and the teal and black.
But all good things end so better ones can begin.
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