Section 334, Row 1, Seat 21

I was there.

In the first breath, those are pretty much the only words I can use to describe it.

Today's game has been long circled on my calendar. My friend Tommy, one of my five or six closest friends, is a huge Cardinals fan. A group of us had decided that we would capitalize when they came to town. We're still going to the game on Sudnay I was with him for Game 7 last year, saw the elation on his face. As a younger fan (I'm 23), who's only been really following baseball for a few years, it's something that I've rarely (if ever) gotten from the Mets. Sure, they're fun to watch, and when they've said that "you see something new in every baseball game", they were probably talking about the Mets. And, unfortunately, it was new ways to lose. But that's not what's important.

We bought the tickets on StubHub this morning. Left Field Landing. Front row. I left my office in Long Island City at about 4:40. I knew my friends wouldn't arrive until at least six o'clock, so I took my time to the ballpark. I got a beer at a bar in Sunnyside. I walked another six blocks to find an ATM with a fee under $3 (I settled on one in a random bakery that was $2.50). I got to Citi Field, via the 7 train, at around  5:45. At that point, my friends had just gotten through the Holland Tunnel. They wouldn't arrive for a while. I sat down at a bench outside the Jackie Robinson rotunda, next to an elderly man in a Cardinals jersey. Mostly silence. We shared a laugh, however, at the fact that there's a Fanwalk brick that just says 'Moo'. Around 6:15, I got up and walked around. I found a group of guys tailgating. I asked them for a (n adult) drink, and they happily obliged. I spent the next half hour talking baseball with them. We discussed the Hall of Fame merits of Keith Hernandez, as well as memories of Mike Piazza and thoughts about the 1980's Mets. They headed in. My friends (the aforementioned Tommy, and our friend Ed) arrived a few minutes after. We headed in and to our seats:

Section 334, Row 1, Seat 21.

It was nice, as we had the three last seats in our row. As we got near our section, Ed turns to me and says "watch, Johan throws a no-hitter tonight and the Mets lose." A joke, of course, because he's probably said something to that tune before every Mets game he's been alive for.

We watched the first inning in our seats. After Adam Wainwright set down Mike Baxter, Kirk Nieuwenhuis, and David Wright, I made my way for the snack stands. Got a hot dog and a beer. The line, of course, took me through the entirety of the second inning. I watched Johan strike out Adams and Greene from the luxury of a tensabarrier line, waiting on my hot dog. Got it, ate it, went back to the game.

The first time I mentioned it was the middle of the third inning. It kinda became a joke; maybe 'not talking about a no hitter' was the jinx. Didn't even occur to me though, that it could actually happen, until Mike Baxter's catch in the 7th. Sitting in the Left Field Landing, we had a perfect view of Baxter's grab. My first thought: "He's not getting up. $@*^ I hope he's okay". My second thought: "Every no-hitter has one awesome defensive play. Maybe this is it." Andres Torres came in, Kirk shifted, and the game continued. Johan's pitch count was well over 100 already, and we began to debate when he would be lifted. The Mets, of course, had a comfortable lead already, thanks to the heroics of David Wright, Daniel Murphy, and Lucas "f*@^ it, maybe I will hit 30 homers this year" Duda. When Johan came to bat in the bottom of the 7th, we were already going nuts. We already saw him in the on deck circle.

His pitch count continued to rise, but he stayed effective. Santana was doing with an 89 mph fastball what most pitchers hope to do with 95-mph heat. He fanned 8 over the start, and walked 5, but rarely gave up solid contact. There were few balls that made you fear the inevitable (the Beltran liner notwithstanding). Bobby Parnell was available in the 7th, but never left the bullpen. Terry Collins questioned it, considered taking Santana out, but never could make the move. And it worked out for the best.

Come the ninth inning, we all knew what was happening. A fly ball to Torres. A fly ball to Nieuwenhuis. Perhaps it was fitting that Santana finished it with his eighth strikeout. After almost 20 months of doubt, of skepticism, he showed the world that he can be dominant, regardless of velocity. He did it himself.

As Mets fans, we've probably long taken him for granted. When healthy, Johan Santana has been one of (if not) the best pitchers in baseball. His change up was once the most effective pitch in the majors. And that's where we stood. 2 out, 133 pitches in, and that pitch, that mentality, that man completed what no one else could do in blue and orange: he did not surrender a single base hit to the opposing team.

I can't accurately describe it. I can't tell you what it was like being there, seeing it. Hugging people I've never met. High five-ing little children, who may not understand the gravity of the situation. Perhaps no one will. In fact, it may mean more to him than it ever will to us. After tonight, no one can say that Johan Santana isn't back. Isn't healthy. Isn't an ace.

Holy shit.