The Mets Police

And once again, there is no out-of-town scoreboard in your new palace, Boss. Just those mostly-useless flashboards with confusing team logos instead of team names that stay up for a couple of seconds, then move on to another set of scores, all the while giving you the baserunner diagram that also disappears in a flash. In between innings, there are no scores anywhere - just more ads. But then, only the fans care about what the count is, Boss, or what the Red Sox or Mets  are doing. The rich folks in the suites, Trost's revenue generators, are too busy socializing over their martinis and $54 steaks to bother about such trivial pursuits.

And speaking of food, Boss. It's strictly pedestrian short-order stuff for the common fan in the upper deck. No restaurants for them. Not a place anywhere upstairs where the common fan can take the family for a moderately priced sit-down meal before the game. Trost will tell you this is what the Mohegan Sun restaurant in center field is for, but that would be the restaurant that costs $100 a seat - or $400 for a family of four before you order any food (it also juts out and obstructs the view of the Bleacher Creatures). Just another brilliant stroke on Trost's part.

At least the fans in the upper deck can see Monument Park, supposedly the most beautiful visual feature of the new Stadium. Sadly, however, nobody else can.

In Trost's wisdom, Monument Park was moved to center field without any consideration given to the fact that it would now be an impediment to the batters' eyes. As a result, a blue wall had to be constructed in front of it that obscures the monuments from the view of three-quarters of the ballpark, making it look like a giant dumping ground. People now call it “Monument Cave.”