SEVEN YEARS later, things have certainly gotten better around Shea Stadium for Bobby Bonilla.
Yesterday, the water was only up to his ankles. Last time, it was up around his neck.
“I hope they didn’t spend too much for that renovation,” Bonilla joked after the Mets’ 8-1 victory over Florida in their home opener.
He was talking about the brand-spanking-new home clubhouse, which cost $250,000 and was rapidly flooding with water from a plumbing breakdown.
He could just as easily have been talking about the brand-spanking-new home team, the one with the $68 million lineup.
They haven’t tried it out against real major league teams yet, but so far, the high-priced Mets are performing just fine against the warm-up acts of the National League, sitting atop the East Division with a 6-2 record.
Yesterday, Bonilla played a big part in victory No. 6, collecting two hits and a walk.
Really, he had three hits, although on one of them – a high pop that went into a holding pattern in the maelstrom swirling above the ballpark and fell safely to the infield grass – Bonilla may well have been walking, since he only made it to first base. In fairness, he might have made it to second if not slowed by a knee sprain that sidelined him for 10 days in spring training.
Regardless, it counted as a hit on a day in which Bonilla saw his average soar from .059 to .200, only 40 points or so below his weight.
“I got really lucky today, I got some breaks,” he said, “But it felt great to be back here. It was nice to be cheered, somewhat, so that was cool.”
Bonilla’s mixed greeting from the sellout Shea crowd was a leftover from a prior era, an era in which Bonilla was expected to be a savior but turned out only to be the straw that stirred the sewage. After all, in 1992, he was not only the highest-paid player on the team, but in the game.
“I got four years under my belt in New York,” he said. “So I fully understand that when I’m [bad], they’ll boo the crap out of me, and when I’m good, they’ll cheer me.”
Yesterday, Bonilla was good, and they cheered.
“I felt I left on pretty good terms,” he said. “I was traded, remember? I didn’t leave.”
Is Bobby Bo, now 36, a changed man? Probably not.
The smile still comes off a trifle forced, the attempts at humor a trifle bitter, the demeanor a trifle wary. The skin is too thin and the waistline too thick for New York to ever really warm up to him, even if he is a son of The Bronx.
But in terms of the overall success of the New York Mets, circa 1999, will it matter?
Probably not, because this time, Bobby Bonilla is not expected to BE the team, just an occasionally useful part of it.
Last time, it was just him and bunch of guys named Pecota and Elster and Orsulak. Yesterday, batting fourth in place of the injured Mike Piazza, Bonilla had John Olerud, the NL’s second-leading hitter in 1998, hitting to the north of him and Robin Ventura, a perennial 25-homer, 90-RBI man, hitting to the south.
With that kind of protection, Bonilla saw some good pitches from Livan Hernandez yesterday and got some good swings.
In one sense, Bonilla seems happy just to fit in as part of the ensemble, but in another, he seems eager to remind his teammates that he can be an impact player here, too.
When Piazza went down, it was Bonilla who made the rounds of the clubhouse offering encouragement.
And yesterday, when Bobby Jones flashed a grin following his first major-league home run, Bonilla had some advice for him, too.
“When I saw that smile, I thought, ‘When they hit one off you and smile like that, don’t be getting [angry],'” he said.
Nothing could wipe the smile off Bobby Bonilla’s face yesterday, partly because it never hung around very long.
And partly because, when you not only get three hits on Opening Day but the team wins, not much can destroy your mood, not even a flood in the clubhouse.
“It feels kinda like Little League, you know, where you play the game and shower at home,” Bonilla said. “The water’s all over the place.”
So far at least this time, Bobby Bonilla finds the water only up to hisankles. Not over his head.
