I'm in San Diego for Comic-Con -- so of course the very first thing I did was go to a Padres/Marlins game.

Petco Park is a little different than your basic HOK/Populous design. Yes, it's got the basic hallmarks of today's retro/modern parks: circulating behind the seating areas, quirky outfield walls, private levels, split upper decks. But the first thing that jumps out at you is the white and buff palette. It fits with the clean, desert feel of being at the very bottom of California, making the park feel lighter and somehow smaller. Behind the scenes there are odd, vaguely South American touches: plantings that spill out over bridges and niches and sloping walls that wouldn't feel out of place in a ziggurat. It's subtle, and invisible from the field, but kind of cool -- it feels like someone had fun designing it. I like Citi Field, but it feels more self-conscious: The only place where there's a spirit of play is the center-field bridge.

Petco is also in the middle of downtown, so its quirks feel more natural, whereas Citi Field will always feel like an urban ballpark that fell out of the sky and landed in a suburban sea of cars. The Metal Supply Warehouse facade is part of the park, but not a very big one -- it's a lot smaller than I'd registered it as being on TV, basically tucked into one corner. It's actually one part of Petco that feels self-consciously retro -- you look at it and your first thought is "Why did they keep that?" (Followed by, "I guess it's cool.") It also creates a section of left-field seats with obstructed views, from which you can't see the left fielder or the center fielder. But -- Mets please take note -- Padres fans say you're warned about the obstructed views when you buy tickets. And the rest of the park has a perfectly good view of all outfielders without feeling far away -- another rebuttal to Dave Howard's fantasy that geometries are an unfortunate law of physics in ballpark design.

The warehouse contains suites and a high-end bar with a balcony from which you can watch the game. There's usually a long line to spend a couple of innings on the balcony, but Wednesday's game had been moved from night to 12:35 p.m., so the park was basically deserted. The warehouse also contains -- sit down and stop operating heavy machinery -- the Padres Hall of Fame. It's not much -- a section of mock lockers that don't contain much of anything real players would have in their lockers -- and it's partially blocked by a beer sign, but it's there, so I paid homage to Tony Gwynn (who can no longer beat us with singles between the shortstop and third baseman, heavens be praised) before continuing my rounds.

Another nice touch in Petco is the grassy hill behind the park. There's lots of stuff to eat out here, a kids' field and room to circulate -- it's the equivalent of the Shake Shack area out in left field -- and you can see most of the game from the hill. There's also an interesting bleacher area right in front of it with grass in the aisles and a big sand pit where kids play that's right up against the chain link of the outfield fence. (Meaning that yes, an incoming home run could skull little Johnny. It's odd what makes Californians uptight and what they're relaxed about.) The Padres open the hill and the bleacher area and show away games on a big screen back there, and you can buy a reduced-price ticket that limits you to this part of the park. It's a cool idea, though it wouldn't work at Citi Field.

San Diego is a military town, and that's constantly evident, though in small ways -- the ball-under-the-hat game takes place on the deck of an aircraft carrier, there's a huge aircraft-carrier model to gawk at, and a display proudly declares that the Pads are the team of the military. (If so, I think they're losing the arms race.) Nothing wrong with that, just a bit odd for a New Yorker used to his town's brassy celebration of itself as the pinnacle of all human institutions.

California being California, everybody was insanely friendly -- I freely wandered into places I wasn't supposed to be with my blithe explanation that I've "never been here and just exploring around" proving a perfectly valid passport. Padres fans were happy to chat about their park, their team and my team. I was wearing the Numbers shirt -- derived from the one sold by the fine Padres blog Gaslamp Ball -- and my Mets cap, which meant I was That Guy wearing his gear when his team wasn't involved in the proceedings. One seemingly knowledgable Padres fan thought Willie Randolph was still running things, though -- perhaps as they're West Kamchatka to us ("What uniform are they wearing this year? Is Brian Giles still around?"), we're East Silesia to them.

As for the baseball, well, the Padres struck out and made errors and looked half-awake and lost to the Marlins, 5-0. That felt all too familiar.

You can see photos from my field trip on Facebook. (While you're at it, let's be friends!)

Far from home? Curl up with Faith and Fear in Flushing: An Intense Personal History of the New York Mets, available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble and a bookstore near you. Keep in touch and join the discussion on Facebook.

Chronic misdiagnoses of injuries and the incomprehensible roster machinations that follow? Half-assed trade rumors in which they can't even make the right hypothetical decision? Club executives saying ridiculous things? Doing ridiculous things? The Mets are, to borrow a phrase from the former Sports Illustrated writer Steve Rushin, more fun than a barrel of Mookies leading up to and coming out of every game. They are a sideshow attraction par excellence.

It's the main event that's the problem.

At the end of a day when Omar Minaya was sent to meet the media to defuse allegations that Tony Bernazard is doing the impossible by making the Mets look more unprofessional than their recent record would indicate (I still can't get over the nonjudgmental ESPN headline, "Mets exec dares prospects to fight him") — and after the GM defused nothing thanks to speaking remedial legalese and squirming characteristically uncomfortably — the Mets put aside all the distractions that seem to trail them around like a scrap of public restroom toilet paper on the heel of a shoe and went outside to play ball.

Which is too bad, because the distractions have surpassed for entertainment the dreary business the Mets are obligated to transact 68 more times this season.

Wait...these Mets are required to play 68 more baseball games in 2009? Now that's the alleged misconduct Omar ought to be investigating.

The Washington Nationals won their second straight over the New York Mets, giving them a series win. Losing two of three to the now 28-66 Nats is like being swept eight straight by anybody else, including the first nine pregnant ladies to whom you'd offer your seat on the bus (though I wouldn't count on Tony Bernazard ceding his spot without first unleashing a profanity-laced tirade). The Mets were four-hit Wednesday night by Walter Johnson. Or was it Walter Cronkite? Does it really matter who they face on a given evening with the herd of stray Bisons they're dressing as Mets? If Tony Bernazard wants to take on a bunch of minor leaguers, he need only travel with the so-called big club. Chances are he'd beat them, too. Showing fight isn't exactly the Mets' forte.

The highlight of the evening (at least until I caught the latest episode of Metstradamus) was hearing that Fernando Tatis was playing, and not because I took the "under" on total hits. I had seen the lineup and Tatis wasn't in it, yet early in the game, Wayne Hagin mentioned our only remaining Fernando doing something in the field. Ohmigod, I thought, I went and wrote something nice about David Wright and now Wright must have left the game with what Met doctors are calling a slight pull of the brain that we'll find out next week is really aggravated mental anguish that will keep him on the shelf for two years but they won't disable him just yet.

No, it turned out, Tatis wasn't in for a debilitated Wright. He was replacing an ejected Luis Castillo. Phew! What a relief! Thank goodness nothing happened to Wright. Without David, imagine how bad we'd be. Why, we'd probably be losing series to the Washington Nationals.

And bonus points for Castillo getting himself ejected. That makes at least two Mets who won't back down when Tony Bernazard storms into town itching to rumble.

Off day Thursday. As if the Mets aren't off every day.

While you prepare your anecdotes about how you stayed a Mets fan in the worst of times, even in 2009, relive equally bizarre and occasionally uplifting seasons with Faith and Fear in Flushing: An Intense Personal History of the New York Mets, available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble or a bookstore near you. Keep in touch and join the discussion on Facebook. And check out one blogger's take on Citi Field in the latest edition of Metropolis Magazine.