The Patch

INT. JERRY’S APARTMENT – DAY

The atmosphere is casual, with Jerry flipping through a baseball magazine when a thought strikes him. He looks up at Steve, who’s been going over some Mets promotional materials.

JERRY: (curiously) Hey, are the Mets planning to do anything for Bud Harrelson?

STEVE: (pausing) Do you think we should?

KERR: (enthusiastically) Of course! For one of the most beloved Mets of all time? You should definitely do something. How about a patch?

STEVE: (shaking his head) We can’t do a patch.

JERRY: (surprised) No patch?

STEVE: No patch.

JERRY:  You gotta do a patch.

STEVE: No patch.

JERRY:  Why not?

STEVE: Because there’s nowhere to put a patch. On one sleeve is the Mets ball logo, and on the other, an advertisement.

JERRY:  Well, can’t you lose the advertisement?

STEVE: (sighing) Jerry, Opening Day isn’t even sold out. Even I have limits to how much money I can lose on this team.

As they mull over the dilemma, Kramer bursts into the apartment, as if on cue, with a potential solution.

KRAMER: (excitedly) You’re in luck! I know a guy who designs uniforms. He’s a genius! He can make this work.

JERRY: (raising an eyebrow) You’re going to trust Kramer? He already screwed up everything with the new store and the tiny letters on the jerseys.

KRAMER: (defensively) Jerry, there’s plenty of room for a patch, trust me.

STEVE: (considering) Well, at this point, I’m willing to explore just about any option that doesn’t involve losing more money or real estate on the uniform.

INT. CITI FIELD – OWNER’S BOX – OPENING DAY

The atmosphere is electric as fans fill Citi Field for Opening Day. The owner’s box is abuzz with excitement and anticipation. Elaine, Jerry, Steve, and Kramer are all gathered..

ELAINE: (puzzled) I thought you were doing a patch for Buddy Henderson.

STEVE:  Harrelson, Elaine. Bud Harrelson.

ELAINE: (scanning the players) I don’t see it.

STEVE: (pointing) It’s right there, on the sleeve.

ELAINE: (squinting) The hospital ad?

STEVE: (sighing) The OTHER sleeve, Elaine.

ELAINE: (still confused) All I see is a baseball that says Mets.

Kramer, always prepared, hands Elaine his binoculars with a flourish.

KRAMER: (enthusiastically) Here, take a look through these.

With the help of the binoculars, Elaine finally spots the patch, a small but tastefully designed tribute to Bud Harrelson, nestled discreetly above the Mets logo on the players’ sleeves.

ELAINE: (impressed) Oh, now I see it! That’s actually quite nice. Subtle, but nice.

JERRY: (dryly) Subtle enough to need binoculars to see it. Maybe you should have Magnifying Glasses day.

STEVE: (defensively) We’re honoring the legacy without overshadowing the team identity.

ELAINE: Or the hospital.

JERRY: Yeah you really honored the legacy with the new Hallway of Fame,

STEVE: (annoyed) Plus, we had to make room for, you know, sponsorship commitments.

KRAMER: (nodding) It’s all about balance. Besides, now the fans have another reason to buy binoculars!

ELAINE: Oh look, here come the dancers, I love these guys!

Mets to wear tiny Bud Harrelson patch because the other arm has an advertisement

 

That’s pretty small.

NEW YORK METS TO HONOR BUDDY HARRELSON WITH UNIFORM PATCH FOR 2024 SEASON

 

Members of the Harrelson family will participate in Opening Day Ceremonies on March 28

 

FLUSHING, N.Y., March 25, 2024 – The New York Mets today announced that the team will wear a tribute uniform patch all season long to honor Mets Hall of Famer Buddy Harrelson. Harrelson passed away on January 10, 2024 at age 79 after a lengthy battle with Alzheimer’s. The patch will feature Harrelson’s iconic number three with his nickname “BUDDY” in a diamond and will be worn on the sleeve of the Mets home and road jersey (photo attached).

 

Harrelson’s six grandchildren will be involved in the ceremonial first pitches on Opening Day, March 28 vs. Milwaukee.Antonio Abbatiello, Luciano Abbatiello, Danielle Soppit, Nathan Rheinor, Ryan Harrelson and Brandon Rheinor will represent the family. There will be 23 members of the Harrelson family in attendance at Citi Field on Opening Day.

“I told the kids on a Zoom call what the Mets were doing for Buddy,” Kim Battaglia, who was married to Buddy for 36 years said. “They were all so happy and overwhelmed. It will be an emotional day. We just want to thank Steve and Alex (Cohen) for honoring him. For us, it was just confirmation for the kind of person Buddy was. I don’t think there was a kinder or more generous man than Buddy. He had a heart of gold.”

Harrelson played for the Mets from 1965-1977. He was a member of the 1969 Miracle Mets, a two-time All-Star (1970 and 1971) and earned the 1971 Gold Glove at shortstop. He later would serve as a coach with the Mets in 1982 and again from 1985-1990. Harrelson took over the managerial duties early in the 1990 season and led the Mets through the 1991 campaign. He was inducted into the Mets Hall of Fame in 1986.

Harrelson was the third base coach on the 1986 World Champs, becoming the only Met to be in uniform on both World Series winning teams. Additionally, he was the only Met in uniform for the team’s first four trips to the postseason (1969, 1973, 1986 and 1988).

The Museum

Steve is pacing back and forth, clearly stressed about the financial implications of an unsold-out Opening Day.

STEVE: (worrying) Opening Day isn’t sold out. This is a disaster. We’re losing money hand over fist here. What am I gonna do Jerry?

Just then, Kramer bursts into the apartment, brimming with what he believes to be a game-changing idea.

KRAMER: (excitedly) Steve, you’re thinking about this all wrong. It’s not about tickets sold, it’s about selling product. You need to expand the team store!

STEVE: (sighing) I can’t do that, Kramer. The Mets museum is there.

KRAMER: (waving dismissively) Spread the museum pieces all over the stadium! That way, everyone can see them, and they won’t be out of the way. That’s what they do in Atlanta.

JERRY: (dryly) Because the main entrance to a baseball stadium isn’t exactly “out of the way.”

KRAMER: (undaunted) My friend Chico works with the Braves. They expanded their store, and these new jerseys  are moving like hotcakes.

Elaine, who had been listening while making a sandwich, looks up, puzzled by Kramer’s analogy.

ELAINE: (quizzically) Does anyone even eat hotcakes anymore? What are hotcakes, anyway?

STEVE: (considering) Spreading the museum pieces might actually draw more foot traffic throughout the stadium. And more foot traffic means more eyes on merchandise…

JERRY: (smirking) And maybe you can sell hotcakes next to Mike Piazza’s jersey.

KRAMER: (nodding) See? It’s all about synergy. Museum pieces here, hotcakes there. It’s a win-win.

STEVE: (slowly smiling) Maybe… just maybe, Kramer, you’re onto something. Let’s give Chico a call.

INT. CITI FIELD – CONCOURSE AREA – DAY

The stadium is buzzing with fans milling around, taking in the sights before the game starts. In one section, a small crowd has gathered around Tom Seaver’s plaque, part of the new dispersed museum initiative.

A kid, no more than ten, tugs at his father’s sleeve, pointing at the plaque with a puzzled look.

KID: (confused) Dad, why is the plaque turning green?

The father squints at the plaque, noticing the telltale signs of oxidation for the first time.

FATHER: (murmuring) Huh, looks like it’s oxidizing. That’s not good.

Nearby, Jerry and Steve are in line for hot dogs when they overhear the conversation. Steve’s eyes widen as he turns to look at the plaque.

STEVE: (panicking) Oxidizing? All the plaques are… (He trails off, imagining the worst.)

JERRY: (dryly) Maybe it’s a new feature. The ‘living’ museum, where the exhibits change colors before your eyes.

Steve doesn’t share Jerry’s sense of humor.

STEVE: (muttering to himself) Oxidizing… Not just Seaver, David Wright, Al Leiter, all of them! This was supposed to be timeless, not… not a science experiment gone wrong!

JERRY: (trying to calm him down) Steve, relax. It’s just a little patina. Adds character.

STEVE: (stopping abruptly) Character? Jerry, these are our legends. They’re turning green!

JERRY:  Well, our legends and Al Leiter.

Just then, Kramer slides up, overhearing the last part of Steve’s meltdown.

KRAMER: (enthusiastically) You know, in some cultures, the green on statues is considered a sign of wisdom and venerability.

STEVE: (exasperated) This isn’t the Statue of Liberty, Kramer. It’s the Mets’ Hall of Fame!

JERRY: More like the Mets Hallway of Fame.

As Steve storms off to address the unexpected crisis, Jerry turns to Kramer with a smirk.

JERRY: (teasing) Maybe we can start selling ‘vintage’ oxidized merchandise next. The real Citi Field experience.

KRAMER: (pondering) That’s not a bad idea. Authenticity sells, Jerry!

JERRY:  come on Steve, let’s go visit your new expanded store.

INT. CITI FIELD – NEWLY EXPANDED METS STORE – DAY

The gang walks into the bustling Mets store, now expanded and filled with a variety of new merchandise. However, the atmosphere inside is less than enthusiastic.

As Jerry, Elaine, Steve, and Kramer weave through the crowd, they overhear snippets of conversation. One fan, holding up a jersey to show his friend, voices a complaint that captures the prevailing sentiment.

FAN: (frustrated) Can you believe this? The names on these jerseys are so small, you can’t read them unless you’re right up close. Look at this, you practically need binoculars!

FRIEND: (squinting at the jersey) Seriously? Who thought that was a good idea?

The gang stops to examine the jerseys for themselves, and it’s clear the fan’s complaint is valid. The player names, stylishly minimalist to a fault, are nearly illegible from a short distance.

STEVE: (to Kramer, dismayed) You said these jerseys were a hit. What’s with the tiny print?

KRAMER: (defensively) It’s minimalist, Steve! It’s fashion-forward. It’s… it’s European!

JERRY: (dryly) Yeah, because when I think baseball, I think Europe. The Brits are gonna love these.

ELAINE: (examining a jersey) It’s like they’re trying to keep the players’ identities a secret.

As they banter, more fans gather around, nodding in agreement and sharing their own quips about the jerseys. It becomes clear that while the idea might have been innovative, the execution has left much to be desired.

SALES ASSOCIATE: (trying to remain upbeat) They’re unique, right? A real conversation starter!

JERRY: (smirking) Oh, they’re starting conversations, alright

STEVE: (turning to Kramer, frustrated) I thought you said these new jerseys are great.

KRAMER: (scratching his head) Well, they looked fantastic on paper, Steve. You know, sleek, modern… maybe it’s the lighting in here.

ELAINE: (picking up a jersey) Look at this, you need a magnifying glass just to see the number. And what’s with this fabric? It’s like wearing a sauna.

KRAMER: (trying to save face)  Elaine, you’ve got to give it time. They’re trendsetters!

SALES ASSOCIATE: (cheerfully) Special offer today! Buy a jersey, and we’ll throw in a free Mets cap.

JERRY: (quipping) How about a deal where you buy a cap and they throw in the jersey for free?

KRAMER:  $60? For a cap?  That’s a lot.