In 1957, the New York Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers played their last baseball games in New York City, before moving to California. My grandfather, a diehard Giants fan, dreaded the next five years when New York City was a one-team town. The only baseball team left was the one he vowed never to support: the New York Yankees. 
By 1962, his vow was easier to keep when the New York Mets played their inaugural season in Manhattan’s Polo Grounds, previously home to the Giants. And so my grandfather became a dedicated convert to the Mets. Shortly after my mother’s birth in January 1964, the Mets played their first game in their new home: Shea Stadium, a stone’s throw away from her childhood apartment in Corona, Queens. Since age 3, my mother held my grandfather’s hand as they walked to Shea Stadium nearly every weekend, sitting in the cheap seats to cheer on the Mets. 

This gold pendant was actually my grandmother’s, whose devotion to the Mets strengthened after my grandfather’s sudden death.  It was gifted to her on her 80th birthday and then handed down to me when she passed. The charm never left her neck while she was alive. Since age 2, I held my mom and grandmother’s hands as we boarded the 7-Train to Shea Stadium, sitting in the cheap seats to cheer on the Mets. I may have never met my grandfather, but after each game I feel like I know him a little better. The Mets are my connection to an ever-changing Queens and the charm is my solace in times of distress. 

– Tressa Belesi

Relationship:  Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more