September 14, 2025
Simple Pleasures: Painting of Maria Sofia di Wittelsbach, Queen of the Two Sicilies
September 13, 2025
Little Italy Lights Up for the 99th Annual Feast of San Gennaro
 |
| San Gennaro, ora pro nobis |
Remembering Maria Isabella of Spain, Queen of the Two Sicilies
 |
| 6 July, 1789 — 13 September, 1848 |
In memory of Maria Isabella of Spain, Queen of the Two Sicilies, we pray for the happy repose of her soul. Viva ‘a Reggina!
Eternal rest grant unto Her Majesty, O Lord and let perpetual light shine upon her. May her soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
September 12, 2025
Movie Review: Red Sonja (2025)
Fire and Fury in the Age of Conan. ~ Tagline from Red Sonja comics
I’m not sure what possessed me, but I sat down to watch M.J. Bassett’s Red Sonja (2025), fully aware it was going to be bad. Not “good-bad” (like the campy fun found in Flash Gordon (1980), Barbarella (1968), or even the zany cult oddity Forbidden Zone (1980)), but truly bad-bad—in the same vein as Conan the Barbarian (2011) starring Jason Mamoa, The Green Knight (2021) starring Dev Patel, and Amazon’s The Rings of Power (2022– ). My childhood obsession with Robert E. Howard’s Hyborian Age is no doubt to blame for why I subjected myself to it.
As a boy, I devoured Sword and Sorcery, High Fantasy, Sci-Fi, and Horror fiction. The stories of Robert E. Howard (Conan, Bran Mak Morn, etc.), J.R.R. Tolkien (The Hobbit, LOTR), Michael Moorcock (Elric, Corum), Edgar Rice Burroughs (Tarzan, Barsoom), H.P. Lovecraft (Cthulhu, etc.), Frank Herbert (Dune), and even John Norman (Gor) were my favorites. While my friends stuck with mainstream superhero comics (The X-Men, The Avengers), I gravitated toward the darker, more pulpier titles: Savage Sword of Conan, Vampirella, Savage Tales, Creepy, Eerie, and of course, Red Sonja. I even collected the full fifteen-issue self-titled run in the ‘70s, though truth be told, I always preferred Conan’s swashbuckling paramours—Bêlit and Valeria.
Despite being a stickler for lore, I can forgive liberties in adaptation when they serve the story. John Milius’s Conan the Barbarian (1982) starring Arnold Schwarzenegger took plenty, but still captured the spirit and to this day remains one of my all-time favorite fantasy films. [1] But Red Sonja (2025) goes far beyond creative license. It doesn’t just take liberties, it guts the character entirely. By rewriting her origins, the film strips away the mythic weight that made the "she-devil with a sword" compelling and replaces it with a confused, hollow “girl-boss” caricature.
In Marvel’s original story “The Day of the Sword,” written by Roy Thomas, Sonja’s family is slaughtered by a group of mercenaries, and she is raped by their leader. Left to die, a mysterious “vision of madness” offers her a chance for revenge by granting her supernatural martial prowess, on the condition she never allows herself to be touched by another man unless he first defeats her in fair battle. It’s grim, tragic, and mythic. In the movie, by contrast, the red-haired hellion is a natural-born warrior, slaughtering her opponents with ease, without any training.
As a boy, I devoured Sword and Sorcery, High Fantasy, Sci-Fi, and Horror fiction. The stories of Robert E. Howard (Conan, Bran Mak Morn, etc.), J.R.R. Tolkien (The Hobbit, LOTR), Michael Moorcock (Elric, Corum), Edgar Rice Burroughs (Tarzan, Barsoom), H.P. Lovecraft (Cthulhu, etc.), Frank Herbert (Dune), and even John Norman (Gor) were my favorites. While my friends stuck with mainstream superhero comics (The X-Men, The Avengers), I gravitated toward the darker, more pulpier titles: Savage Sword of Conan, Vampirella, Savage Tales, Creepy, Eerie, and of course, Red Sonja. I even collected the full fifteen-issue self-titled run in the ‘70s, though truth be told, I always preferred Conan’s swashbuckling paramours—Bêlit and Valeria.
 |
| My collection of Red Sonja comics |
In Marvel’s original story “The Day of the Sword,” written by Roy Thomas, Sonja’s family is slaughtered by a group of mercenaries, and she is raped by their leader. Left to die, a mysterious “vision of madness” offers her a chance for revenge by granting her supernatural martial prowess, on the condition she never allows herself to be touched by another man unless he first defeats her in fair battle. It’s grim, tragic, and mythic. In the movie, by contrast, the red-haired hellion is a natural-born warrior, slaughtering her opponents with ease, without any training.
 |
| Splash panels from "The Day of the Sword," written by Roy Thomas. (Top) Illustrated by Howard Chaykin, Kull and the Barbarians, Vol. 1, No. 3, Marvel Comics, September 1975. (Bottom) Illustrated by Dick Giordano and Terry Austin, Savage Sword of Conan, Vol. 1, No. 78, Marvel Comics, July 1982 |
Naturally, Sonja breaks the creature's magical bonds with ease, convinces it to rebel against the emperor, and brings the cyclopean coliseum (no pun intended) crashing down. From there, the film devolves into a slog of poor performances, awkward fight scenes, and flat dialogue, with cheesy costumes and an uninspired score. By comparison, the much-maligned Red Sonja (1985) adaptation starring Brigitte Nielsen looks like a cinematic masterpiece.
 |
| My collectible Red Sonja pint glasses |
Hollywood keeps trying to retrofit sword-and-sorcery pulp into contrived modern formulas, memory-holing its brutality, primal masculinity, and tragic grandeur. Strip those elements away, and you’re left with something empty—like this film. Red Sonja deserved better. So did we.
~ By Giovanni di Napoli, September 11th, Feast of Beato Carlo Spinola
Notes:
[1] To give a sense of my cinematic taste across these genres, here are my top five picks I can always revisit: Excalibur (1981), Clash of the Titans (1981), Conan the Barbarian (1982), Blade Runner (1982), and Dune (1984).
September 11, 2025
A Prayer for the Victims of the September 11 Terrorist Attacks
 |
| Christ embracing the Twin Towers, St. Ephrem Church, Dyker Heights, Brooklyn Photo by New York Scugnizzo |
Our thoughts and prayers are with the victims and families of the September 11, 2001 Islamist terrorist attacks—we still remember. May Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception protect and watch over you.
Prayer for Victims of Terrorism
Loving God, welcome into your arms the victims of violence and terrorism. Comfort their families and all who grieve for them. Help us in our fear and uncertainty, and bless us with the knowledge that we are secure in your love. Strengthen all those who work for peace, and may the peace the world cannot give reign in our hearts. Amen.
Italian American Emporium Opens in Little Italy – Just in Time for the Feast of San Gennaro
Italian American Emporium
155 Mulberry Street, Little Italy, NYC
Download the latest issue of Il Portastendardo di Civitella del Tronto
September 10, 2025
Feast of St. Pulcheria
September 10th is the Feast of St. Pulcheria (399–453), Byzantine empress, virgin, and regent. She is celebrated for her piety, wisdom, and political skill. The eldest daughter of Emperor Arcadius, she assumed the regency for her younger brother, Theodosius II, at just fifteen years old, guiding both the empire and his education. Pulcheria took a public vow of virginity, dedicating herself to Christ, and devoted her wealth to the building of churches, charitable institutions, and the care of the poor.
St. Pulcheria, Empress and Virgin, from
Images of All of the Saints and Religious
Events of the Year, by Jacques Callot, 1636.
Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art
Deeply committed to defending the faith, she was instrumental in the Council of Ephesus (431), which affirmed the title of the Virgin Mary as Theotokos (“God-bearer”). After her brother’s death, she married the soldier Marcian, elevating him to the throne while maintaining her consecrated life. Together, they strengthened the empire and supported the Council of Chalcedon (451), shaping Christian orthodoxy for centuries.
Pulcheria died in 453 and was venerated as a saint soon after in both East and West. She is remembered as a model of Christian rulership, uniting imperial authority with spiritual devotion and charity.
St. Pulcheria, ora pro nobis.
In celebration of her feast, we offer this prayer:
Prayer to St. Pulcheria
Glorious St. Pulcheria, Empress and Virgin, you served God in humility and confidence on earth. Now you enjoy His beatific vision in heaven. You persevered till death and gained the crown of eternal life. Remember now the dangers and confusion and anguish that surround me and intercede for me in my needs and troubles. Amen.
Celebrate the Feast of San Gennaro in Style with Body by Rigatoni
 |
| Nicole Ponti presents one of her signature tees |
Stop by during the feast to shop exclusive finds, share a moment at the pop-up display, and bring home a slice of Italian style—straight from Mulberry Street.
Italian American Emporium
155 Mulberry Street, Little Italy, NYC
www.bodybyrigatoni.com
New Book — Monasticism and Renewal in Southern Italy: The Chronicle of Montecassino by Leo Marsicanus, C. 529-1075
• Monasticism and Renewal in Southern Italy: The Chronicle of Montecassino by Leo Marsicanus, C. 529-1075 by Graham A. Loud
Publisher: Manchester University Press
Publication date: February 3, 2026
Hardback: $140.00
Language: English
Pages: 392
Read description
Click here to see more books
Listing does not imply any endorsement
September 9, 2025
September 8, 2025
Feast of Our Lady of Covadonga
September 8th, coinciding with the Nativity of the Virgin Mary, is the Feast of Our Lady of Covadonga (Spanish: Nuestra Señora de Covadonga), Patroness of Asturias and Mother of Spain’s Reconquista. According to tradition, in the early 8th century, the Virgin Mary interceded on behalf of Don Pelayo (Pelagius), the first King of Asturias, and his army during the Battle of Covadonga on May 28th, 722. This clash in the mountains of Asturias marked the first major Christian victory over the Moors after the Islamic conquest of the Iberian Peninsula, and is often regarded as the symbolic beginning of the Reconquista.
Nuestra Señora de Covadonga,
ora pro nobis
At Covadonga, in a cave high in the Picos de Europa mountains, Pelayo and his men are said to have taken refuge. Legend holds that a small image of the Virgin Mary, kept there by the faithful, miraculously protected the defenders. The Muslims’ arrows and stones were said to turn back against them, ensuring Christian victory. In gratitude, Pelayo dedicated the site to the Virgin. Over the centuries, the cave became a destination of pilgrimage.
Today, the Sanctuary of Covadonga includes both the Holy Cave (Santa Cueva)—where the diminutive statue of Our Lady resides—and a grand basilica built in the 19th century (dedicated on September 7th, 1901).
Our Lady of Covadonga is venerated as the Patroness of Asturias. Locally, she is affectionately called La Santina (“the little holy one”), a title that conveys both intimacy and reverence. More than a local devotion, she has become a symbol of resilience, faith, and the rebirth of Christian Spain. For many, she embodies the maternal figure who watches over the Spanish people in their struggles and triumphs. Thus, the story of Covadonga intertwines Marian devotion with the very identity of Spain’s Christian monarchy and cultural heritage.
In celebration of her feast, we offer this prayer:
Prayer to Our Lady of Covadonga
Gracious Mother, Our Lady of Covadonga, I come before you with a humble heart, seeking your intercession and guidance. You, who miraculously aided King Pelayo in his battle against the enemies of the faith, I ask for your powerful protection against the temptations that beset me in my daily life. Help me, dearest Mother, to recognize the snares of the evil one and to resist them with courage and perseverance. May I remain steadfast in my faith, drawing strength from your love and devotion to our Lord, Jesus Christ. In my moments of doubt and despair, remind me of the sanctuary in the beautiful valley of Covadonga, where countless faithful have sought solace and hope in your loving embrace. I place my trust in you, Our Lady of Covadonga, and I pray that you will be my refuge and my strength. Amen.
Remembering Maria Carolina of Austria, Queen of Naples and Sicily
 |
| 13 August, 1752 — 8 September, 1814 |
In memory of Maria Carolina of Austria, Queen of Naples and Sicily, we pray for the happy repose of her soul. Viva ‘a Reggina!
Eternal rest grant unto Her Majesty, O Lord and let perpetual light shine upon her. May her soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
September 7, 2025
Anarco-Tyranny: When the Mob Looks Better Than the State
“The blackest despair that can take hold of any society is the fear that living rightly is futile.” ~ Corrado Alvaro, Man is Strong
You know we’re living in strange times when people start reminiscing about the mob. More than once I’ve heard someone say they miss the days when gangsters kept the old neighborhoods safe. While I don’t share their fondness for criminals, I do understand the sentiment and share their disdain of government.
Yes, they were thugs—but they had rules (so they say). That’s more than can be said for today’s ruling class of corrupt bureaucrats. At least the gangsters were a little more honest about what they were.
Like taxes, protection money sometimes bought you something—protection from them. The social contract is broken: we pay, but the state no longer delivers safety or maintains adequate infrastructure. Instead, our money disappears into the sinkhole of bureaucracy while the essentials crumble. This is legalized extortion.
Crime goes unchecked, filth piles up, and the cost of living spirals—civilization decays. Law-abiding citizens are over-regulated and persecuted. Those of us who follow the rules get screwed.
And when the state refuses to hold up its end of the bargain, people will inevitably look elsewhere for protection—even if that means turning to those outside the law.
Here’s the dark truth: longing for “the gangsters” isn’t nostalgia, it’s desperation. It’s the grim belief that today’s authorities provide less order, less safety, and less stability than yesterday’s villains. Expectations have fallen so low that politicians are compared to mobsters—and the mobsters come out looking more reliable. That’s not admiration. That’s indictment.
~ By Giovanni di Napoli, September 6th, Our Lady's Saturday
September 6, 2025
Review of Gianandrea de Antonellis’ “Un’Italia Senza gli Italiani?”
One of the article’s strongest merits is its command of historical detail. De Antonellis navigates seamlessly across centuries of European political thought, from Metternich’s famous dictum that Italy was “merely a geographical expression” to the cultural reflections of Cervantes and Almeida Garrett, situating the Italian peninsula within a wider Mediterranean and continental framework. The wealth of references gives the essay remarkable breadth and intellectual density. Meticulously documented, the footnotes draw upon primary sources, canonical historians, and literary witnesses alike.
Particularly engaging (especially for me, since I have often tried to dissuade my own friends from flying that rag) is the discussion of national symbols: flags, anthems, and emblems. De Antonellis demonstrates convincingly that Italy’s lack of a deeply rooted “historic flag” or shared cultural insignia reflects the peninsula’s fractured past. His critique of the tricolor, with its Masonic origins and abstract egalitarian symbolism, contrasts sharply with the heraldic and territorial emblems of other nations.
“Much has been said about the origin of the tricolor (both French and Italian) and the meaning of its colors. For the French version, the most plausible and generally accepted interpretation is that the colors symbolize Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity—rather than the less convincing theory that white represented the monarchy (which they sought to abolish at all costs) and red and blue the colors of Paris. For the Italian one, a supposedly more “Christian” explanation (but only in appearance) attributes red to Faith, green to Hope, and white to Charity, following a symbolism also attested in Dante’s Purgatory.
“In any case, beyond such symbolic debates, what is clear—compared with historic flags—is that the tricolor (whether French, Italian, Hungarian, Irish, Dutch, Belgian, Romanian, or Mexican) marks a fundamental shift from concrete and aristocratic symbolism, made of heraldic emblems strongly tied to the land, to abstract and egalitarian symbolism of Masonic inspiration, made of mere colors.”
Here, De Antonellis highlights how the modern national project deliberately severed itself from older heraldic traditions, replacing concrete symbols with an ideology of abstraction that reflects revolutionary rupture rather than historical continuity.
“Many interpretations have been proposed, even alchemical ones, for the three colors. In reality, all appear fairly questionable and overly conceptual, and seem clearly to be “after-the-fact” explanations. The fact remains that the three coloured bands replaced a whole series of historic heraldic symbols: from the Gaelic harp to the Bourbon lilies, from the many animals to the nearly infinite objects of iconographic tradition. In Italy’s case alone, these included she-wolves and wolves, eagles and griffins, bears and lions, horses and boars, bulls and towers, stars and lilies, serpents (biscioni), panoplies, and so forth—besides, of course, the Cross, likely the very first symbol to be eradicated. This was so even in cases where it was not the classic Latin cross (which immediately evokes Calvary’s cross), but other forms of cross (filleted, forked, flory, moline, raguly, serpent, patonce, anchor, St. Andrew’s, swallow-tailed, and so on), which do not immediately—but eventually do—recall the Cross par excellence, that of Calvary, i.e. the Latin cross set upon three steps or three hills.
“It is evident in this aesthetic choice, I repeat, a very 'modern' will of flattening, betraying the desire to eliminate everything traditional and distinctive, replacing it with uniform elements. This is what I mean by the Masonic origin of the tricolor: not a reference to the colors used in lodge rituals.”
Such reflections make clear that the author’s critique of the tricolor is not limited to its origins but extends to its enduring role as a vehicle of homogenization, in stark contrast to Italy’s rich symbolic and cultural patrimony.
“By choosing a tricolor banner, the Risorgimento deliberately left behind the more than millennial history of the individual kingdoms of the Italian territories… It was, after all, the project of revolution itself, which necessarily seeks to sweep away everything that precedes it, presenting itself not as mere evolution but as a sharp break with the past. And the symbol par excellence of a nation, its flag, could not escape this phenomenon.
“Let us recall the case of Henri d’Artois (1820–1883), who in 1871 renounced becoming King Henry V of France, remaining instead the Count of Chambord, because he refused to accept the tricolor as the national flag: a questionable choice, in retrospect, but undeniably revealing of the great importance attributed to a symbol such as the flag.”
Likewise, his examination of the national anthem, Il Canto degli Italiani, is refreshingly candid, exposing its aesthetic mediocrity when compared to the majestic compositions chosen by other European states. These sections are not mere digressions, but essential to his thesis: the fragility of Italian national consciousness.
“Unaesthetic, anti-Bourbon, anti-Austrian: the Canto degli Italiani unites the quintessence of ugliness and of Risorgimental, patriotic, and partisan rhetoric… A fitting anthem for a nation in collapse or 'in a coma,' to use the brilliant definition of Piero Buscaroli (1930–2016).”
The essay also shines in its reinterpretation of the Risorgimento. Rather than presenting unification as the natural culmination of a timeless Italian spirit, de Antonellis underscores the artificiality and imposed character of the process, often driven by foreign intervention and revolutionary ideology.
“It is well known that the height of this sentiment was provisionally reached in 1936 with the proclamation of the Empire. But it is equally well known that less than ten years later everything had collapsed: not only the so-called 'Century of Fascism'—which in fact lasted just a quarter century (yet far more—both proportionally and in concrete achievement—than the twelve years of the 'millennial' Reich)—and the Italian imperial dream, but also the unity of the peoples of the peninsula, emerging from a bloody civil war and ready to perpetuate division ferociously, now on political rather than territorial bases, under the auspices of the democratic regime.
“With Mussolini dead (politically), the Italians also died… Well before the relatively recent phenomena of leghismo… and neoborbonismo… already in the 1970s the opposing extremisms were characterized on the Left by Soviet-style internationalism, on the Right by a kind of Europeanism which… considered Italy once again the simple, feeble 'Little Italy' of the liberal age.”
His reliance on counterpoints (whether through the words of Metternich, the skepticism of D’Azeglio, or the bitterness of Southern critics like Giacinto de’ Sivo) offers a much-needed redress to the triumphalist narrative still dominant in official historiography.
Citing this striking testimony from D’Azeglio, de Antonellis reminds us that even among the architects of unification, there was a keen awareness of its fragility and artificiality.
“At Naples, we have also driven out the sovereign to establish a government founded on universal consent. But it requires—and it seems that this is not enough—to contain the Kingdom, sixty battalions; and it is notorious that, brigands or not brigands, no one wants to hear of it. But it will be said: what about universal suffrage? I know nothing of suffrage, but I know that on this side of the Tronto battalions are not necessary, and beyond they are necessary. Therefore, there was some error, and acts and principles must be changed. One must ask the Neapolitans again about everything, whether they want us or not. I understand that Italians have the right to wage war on those who would keep the Germans in Italy, but against Italians who, remaining Italians, do not wish to unite with us, I believe we have no right to fire arquebuses, unless we now concede, to cut matters short, that we adopt the very principle in whose name Bomba [Ferdinand II, King of the Two Sicilies] bombarded Palermo, Messina, etc. I believe indeed that in general this is not thought, but since I do not intend to renounce the right to reason, I say what I think.”
De Antonellis writes with clarity and conviction, combining scholarly precision with rhetorical flair. Quotations from poets, satirists, and chroniclers enliven the text, while his ironic asides and cultural references ensure that the argument resonates beyond the purely academic. The conclusion, invoking Cervantes’ reference to “the Italies” in the plural, is both elegant and sobering: a reminder that Italy, even when united politically, remains a mosaic of cultures, histories, and identities.
As both a historical essay and a cultural critique, Un’Italia senza gli Italiani? brilliantly challenges complacent assumptions about Italian unity, vividly highlighting instead the peninsula’s rich diversity and the ambiguities of its national symbols. De Antonellis’ work compels the reader to reflect seriously on what it means to speak of “Italy” and “Italians.” A must-read, this article demonstrates how a careful re-examination of symbols, language, and memory can clarify the past while shedding new light on questions that remain vital today.
~ By Giovanni di Napoli, September 5th, Feast of the San Lorenzo Giustiniani
* Translations are my own.
September 5, 2025
Ponderable Quote: The Final Proclamation of SG King Francesco II of the Two Sicilies to His Neapolitan Subjects
 |
| Servant of God King Francesco II of the Two Sicilies (1836-1894) |
"People of Naples:Of all of the duties demanded of a monarch, those performed in times of adversity are the most difficult and solemn, and I intend to carry them out in a manner and spirit befitting a descendant of so long a line of kings .... Regretfully, I must now leave Naples. An unjust war, one which was not wanted by the people, has overrun my kingdom, despite the fact that I was at peace with all of the European powers .... My paramount concern now is to protect this illustrious city, ... to protect its people from ruin and war, to safeguard its inhabitants and their possessions, the holy temples, the monuments, the public buildings, the art galleries, and everything else that constitutes the patrimony of its civilization and greatness, which, belonging to future generations, must not be sacrificed to transitory passions of the moment ....
"War is approaching the walls of the city; and it is with ineffable sadness that I leave .... I commend the devotion of the ministry ... and I call upon the honor and civic sense of the mayor of Naples and the commander of the police to spare our beloved city the horrors of internal disturbances ....
"As a descendant of a dynasty that has ruled over this kingdom for 126 years, after having saved it from the prolonged miseries of the viceregal government, my affections remain here. I am a Neapolitan; and cannot bid farewell to my beloved people, my compatriots, without bitter grief.
"Whatever my destiny may be, I will always cherish for them a lasting and affectionate memory. I recommend to them peace and concord and observance of their duties as citizens. Let not an immoderate attachment for my crown become a source of turbulence. If the course of the present war should lead me back among you, or if on some future day it may please God to restore me to the throne of my ancestors, rendered more splendid by the free institutions with which I have endowed it, what I most fervently pray for is to find my people united, strong, and happy."
* Reprinted from Modern Naples: A documentary history, 1799-1999 by John Santore, Italica Press, 2001, pp. 174-175
An Unexpected Celebration at Work
Needless to say, sharing a table of traditional Sicilian fare with co-workers in celebration of the Feast of Santa Rosalia was an unexpected, but most welcome blessing. Breaking bread, we closed shop for a while and enjoyed an intimate meal of spiedini, arancini, and maccheroni alla Norma—each bite evoking the savory flavors of Sicily. More than just a meal, it was a gesture of faith, fellowship, and culture. For a moment, the workplace became a family table, where stories, laughter, and flavors intertwined in honor of Palermo’s beloved patroness. Evviva la Santuzza!
My makeshift shrine at home
Arancini 
Spiedini 
Maccheroni alla Norma
September 4, 2025
They Ruined It
Growing up, I went to more sporting events than I can count: Jets, Giants, Yankees, Mets, Cosmos, Rangers, Knicks. Even the Cyclones and Metrostars made the list. But over time, I lost interest in American sports altogether; the commercialization, sanitization, and ideological weaponization of the games ruined them for me.
To give you an idea of how out of touch I am, I only just learned at the park that there’s now a pitch clock and a designated hitter in the National League?! My attention has long since wandered elsewhere. These days, I follow only European football, above all Napoli, and, whenever I can, the occasional amateur contests, including la joute nautique, scherma, and the colorful pali and regattas of Italy.
The decline showed itself even before we got inside. In the parking lot, security said no tailgating—not even tossing a football around. This was so alien to me, I thought they were kidding. They weren’t.
My first time inside Citi Field, I’ll admit the stadium itself was impressive. But the next sign of decline hit me at the concession stands. Whatever happened to peanuts, Cracker Jack, hot dogs, pretzels, cotton candy, beer, and soda? Now it’s Fiesta burgers, General Tso’s chicken, fondue, sushi, curry patties—you name it. It was all a little too effete for my taste.
It wasn't over there. The nonstop blare from the sound system and giant videoboard was relentless. Incessant gimmicks—games of chance, dance routines, music, fan cams—distracted from the actual game. Worst of all was the manufactured crowd energy: instructions telling people when to cheer, like Pavlovian cues. There was something vaguely Orwellian about it all.
Not everything was bad. A few charms remained: Mr. and Mrs. Met taking photos with kids, hearing about the “Grimace Seat” in right-field, and, of course, seeing the iconic red apple rise after a Mets home run. But even these couldn’t disguise how overproduced and dumbed-down the whole experience has become.
Happily, the Mets won. If nothing else, I hope the kids will look back and fondly remember their old uncle and their fathers at the ballpark, the way I do mine.
~ By Giovanni di Napoli, September 3rd, Feast of St. Pius X
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
