Shake Shack - Citi Field

Shortly after Connor was killed in April, I e-mailed several of our mutual friends to see if anyone would be interested in a reunion/memorial of sorts at a baseball game. Connor played baseball at Princeton and as an Atlanta native, he was a pretty big Braves fan. The idea wasn't completely original. My roommates' beloved friend Matt Lynch was killed in Iraq in 2004 and each year a big group of his family and friends commemorate him by going to a Mets game.

It's been almost six months to the day that a taxi cab turned a corner and moments later, our 30-year-old friend's life was cut tragically short. Connor was a die-hard baseball fanatic -- and as his sister informed me -- he much preferred to play than to sit in the grandstands as a spectator. No matter, we knew he would have tried to get to at least one Braves game this season so instead we went for him. It took several back and forth e-mails and someone else taking the reins for it to all work out, but it did finally and here we are.

As a Yankee fan, I felt like a traitor getting excited about a trip to Citi Field; though as a New Yorker I felt like I'd be doing the city a service by experiencing the wonder and glory of both baseball fields.

We walked into the rotunda a couple hundred yards from the subway exit and I couldn't help but stand with my head up and twirl around like I did as a kid looking up at St. Peter's Cathedral for the first time. I tried to capture Jackie Robinson's famous quote above the arches, but the camera couldn't do it for me: "A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives."

I read the words first out loud and then once to myself and shook my head smiling as I gazed up. Hi Connor.

That night wasn't so much about the game or the score, though the Mets got trounced -- hey, at least they're consistent. It was more about Connor and catching up with friends who I hadn't seen since his funeral in April. We learned it was especially important to his sister that he not be the white elephant in the room. She seemed to be doing really well, though she expressed concern and frustration over the taxi driver's evasion of any sort of consequences for his actions. The 60-something-year-old Russian continues to drive customers through the streets of Manhattan without so much as a ticket or demerit for his irresponsibility that night.

Of all the stories we shared, I was most moved by KOG telling us she can't imagine getting married anymore. I looked at her in shock and couldn't understand this. Surely Connor would have wanted her to live life to the utmost and find someone to love forever in marriage. She explained to me that since she'd been a little girl she'd always pictured the speech her older brother would give at her wedding. She spoke so candidly and matter-of-factly about it it brought tears to my eyes. Of course. It made so much sense. Thank god Lion jumped in and told her it would happen someday and when the time came she'd be ready and her little brother MOG would step up to the plate for his big brother.

Apart from the many beers and toasts to Connor, we ate like fiends. My first round included a hot dog and some French fries from a local vendor by our seats. Nothing spectacular. I knew where Shake Shack was and I was determined to get there but I didn't want to be a nag. I would go when it suited the whole group.

Sooner than later Lion asked if I wanted to cruise over to Shake Shack.

"Yes, please! I'm dying to try it. My friend at work said we had to go on the earlier side too or the lines would be bonkers."

"You like their burgers?"

"I kinda think they're overrated. A bit like In 'n Out's in California but I'm willing to go in with an open mind and give them another shot," I said.

Citi, like Yankees Stadium, is very open and spacious. Despite there being a plethora of empty seats as the game progressed, I never felt claustrophobic like I did at the old Yankees Stadium.

There was a small snake of a line, but it only took about two minutes to walk through and place my order before one of the loopy ladies behind the counter shrieked my number.

"9-2-7!"

I grabbed my warm parcel and scurried off to find my friends standing and eating at one of the high tables.

"What's the verdict?"

They'd already unwrapped and started devouring and condiments and beer were strewn across the table.

"Mmm-phhfff-mmm," ShawDaddy said with wide eyes and a nod of his head.

"I take it that means good."


Et voila. The burger.

I dug in. It was the best burger I'd had in a long time. I was blown away. Blown. Away. The patty was the perfect thickness. It was juicy and rough around the edges, which I loved, and the cheese seeped into the burger's pores like it was almost a part of the patty itself. And the bun. Oh my god, the bun. Soft and chewy. The bottom bun soaked up the burger's juices which can be bad if it's too soggy, but this was perfect.

I'm in trouble. My office is a short 11-block walk from the Upper West Side's Shake Shack. I see more walks there for lunch in my future. Thank you for such a delicious surprise, Shake Shack!

After we downed our burgers and beers and made one last toast to Connor, we called it a night. I walked out of Citi happy on a full stomach, excited about burgeoning friendships, sad recalling Connor and his absence, proud to be wearing my new "Remembering COG" bracelet (think Lance's yellow Livestrong one but in navy), and hopeful for the future and that I may impact people as Connor once did and still does.