THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, May 10, 1996 TAG: 9605100649
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: TOM ROBINSON
DATELINE: NORFOLK LENGTH: Medium: 77 lines
Eighty third-graders from Grafton Bethel Elementary in Yorktown field-tripped to Nauticus on Thursday to see whatever it is Nauticus is.
Before they visit again, somebody should break it to them that the New York Mets are not usually included in the ticket price.
Not that most of her group knew a Met from a merchant seaman, hinted chaperone Suzie Small. Still, the kiddies were agog just the same after a big black bus pulled up at the pavilion behind Nauticus a few minutes before 2 p.m.
The doors opened and 25 men in summer suits and silk ties, not counting coaches and staff, emerged and moved to folding chairs at a line of tables. Elbow to elbow for precisely one hour, the players signed everything placed before them, snacking on cookies and sodas in between pen strokes.
As about 350 children and adults filed past, some Mets even smiled at and kidded with them, just like real human beings.
Excuse me, but may I have some water please? I believe I'm about to faint.
Let me explain to you how unique this event was. We may NEVER see it again, that's all. It simply does not happen.
Getting a whole, uniformly surly major league baseball team together in public at one place at one time to sign autographs - for free, no less, not even an admission charge - is like a meteor hitting the earth or something.
``That was one of the best experiences I've been involved in in a long time,'' said Michael Boyd, 29, a sports card collector from Portsmouth, when it was over.
``I'm not surprised that it was free. I'm just surprised by the number of players. I didn't know the whole team was going to be here. I don't think you could even get the Tides to sit down in one place like this.''
Negotiations between Robert Smithwick, then Norfolk's economic development director, and Mets executive vice president Joe McIlvaine made it happen, said Tides general manager Dave Rosenfield.
It appeared to be an effort for the Mets to make nice with fans who might still feel spurned by the strike in 1994-95. But Rosenfield said the idea was more to celebrate the bond between the Mets and Norfolk, which has housed the Mets Triple-A team since 1970.
``It was strictly a community relations deal, with this community,'' Rosenfield said. ``I'd be surprised if the idea of the strike had entered anybody's mind.''
Oh, it's entered Nick Nuzzi's mind, all right. The 42-year-old resident of Kitty Hawk, a Tides season-ticket holder, brought his wife and three children up for the autograph session and Thursday night's Tides-Mets game.
Nuzzi's turned lukewarm toward major league ball of late, but not enough to deny his kids the chance to make up their own minds.
``I'd like to see it the way it used to be,'' Nuzzi said. ``I think guys used to play because they wanted to play. It wasn't just a money issue.
``But my kids wanted to come out, and I don't want my children to be deprived of something because of my feelings toward baseball.
``Whoever did this, it was a good gesture.''
The old and sour Mets of Eddie Murray, Vince Coleman, Bret Saberhagen, etc. would have told you what to do with the gesture. But these Mets are younger, better-tempered, and many passed through Norfolk on the way up and have some affinity for the area.
``Once they found out this wasn't a moneymaking thing for somebody, I think everybody was more than happy to oblige,'' said Steve Phillips, the Mets assistant general manager.
The closest thing to the Nauticus session that the Mets have done, Phillips said, was an autograph period after a ``welcome home'' dinner in April. But that was a charity benefit that people paid $250 a plate to attend.
This was an off-the-clock, and probably one-time only, affair. But aside from Cal Ripken Jr. staying on the field an hour after a game to sign autographs, it was about as unique, and fan friendly, as baseball gets these days.
``This,'' said Chesapeake collector Jeff Castelloe, 27, ``is the best thing I've ever seen.''
Somebody's probably said that about Halley's comet, too. by CNB