Seinfeld, a Mets fan, sat in a box seat at Shea that night and watched his team tiptoe around Bonds with intentional walks in the ninth and 11th innings—a show about nothing!—in order to get to Feliz. The strategy worked each time, with Feliz grounding out and striking out to end each threat. The Mets won on a Piazza home run in the bottom of the 11th, 2-1, to sweep the three-game series. (The Giants, floundering in the lower echelons of the NL West, would then win two of three in Cincinnati to end the week at 14-18.)
A weary Bonds waved away reporters after his one and only game in New York this season—he missed the first two games of the series with a sinus infection—having no desire to resume his stream-of-consciousness monologue. He put on dark blue slacks and a tan, long-sleeved knit pullover for the trip to Cincinnati. He zipped closed a black nylon wheeled suitcase with BLB embossed on a leather tag. The tiny visiting clubhouse at Shea Stadium was nearly empty. None of his teammates were around when Bonds said aloud to no one in particular, "Let's go, guys. New city, new start."
He walked alone, pulling his baggage.