After visiting family in New Jersey for a couple of days, our road trip to Shea needed a stopping point on the way back west. The National Baseball Hall of Fame would have been a perfect destination, but Cooperstown, N.Y.. was a bit far off our trip route so we switched sports gears and headed to the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio.

Canton was an odd setting to learn of Willie Randolph’s 3:15 a.m. firing, but with two of us wearing Mets T-shirts, we came across plenty of Mets fans who wanted to add their two cents to the managerial conversation. And much of the long return ride from Canton to South Dakota was spent listening to sports radio commentators and analysts describe the handling of the situation as “classless” and “unprofessional.”

I completely agree that the whole situation was handled like crap, but the bottom line is we’re 6 1/2 games back with plenty of time left in the season and I would like to win a pennant. Either remove “interim” from Jerry Manuel’s title or hire a permanent replacement and let’s get to work. With the way the Phillies have been playing, there’s no time to wait.

Anyway, back to Canton. The (football) Hall was well worth the trip. It features tons of helmets, balls, trophies and jerseys to peruse, and the museum has added a ton of interactive stations for the kids. The room featuring bronze busts of all of the inductees is amazing, and we spent nearly an hour in there alone.

Perhaps our next Mets trip to Citi Field will feature a side trip to Cooperstown so we can also take in some baseball history.

The New York Mets helped make my kids’ first visit to Shea - and likely my final trip - a memorable one.

Oliver Perez shook off a first-inning homer by the Texas Rangers’ Josh Hamilton to pitch seven solid innings Friday night to lead the New York Mets to a 7-1 win that we hope will put the team back on track.

Hamilton’s blast bumped the NoNoHitters.com count up to 7,386 Mets games without a no hitter, but no worries. the Mets needed a “W” more than a no-no at this point in the season and Perez (7 IP, 3 H, 1 ER, 7 K) was up to the challenge. As Perez held the Rangers scoreless, the Mets jumped right back with two runs in the bottom half of the first and squeezed out another in the fifth on a David Wright sacrifice fly before breaking out with four runs in the sixth.

It’s been years since I last visited Shea, and during the past few seasons I’ve heard a ton of commentators say what a dump the place is. I wholeheartedly disagree. When I watched my first Mets game in person in 1975, I found the place absolutely amazing and Friday’s trip did little to change that youngster’s impression. Sure, Citi Field looks like it’ll be incredible, but Shea in all its chipped-paint-glory holds my childhood memories and nothing will change that. Now I know what my dad was feeling when he used to wax eloquent about losing Ebbets Field.

Friday (Day 3 of our road trip) started early in Western Pennsylvania (about 400 miles from Shea) with a crappy breakfast and one dad and two kids a tad cranky from a lack of sleep. Michael and Alex grabbed an extra hour of shuteye in the car as I used the gas pedal to try to make up the hour or two lost Thursday after the Cubs game at Wrigley headed into extra innings.

We poked through the Lincoln Tunnel around 1:30 p.m. and after uttering - and apologizing for uttering - a few profanities while trying to readjust to NYC-style driving (I don’t get much practice in South Dakota), we arrived at our hotel at 32nd and Broadway and met my nephew Bryan from New Jersey.

Our bellhop (a diehard Mets fan) suggested we skip the 7 train and take the LIRR from Penn Station. I never went in that way, but though slightly more expensive it was a comfortable trip that shaved about a half our off our travel time. That got us to Shea in plenty of time for batting practice.

BP is always fun, but I was amazed at how few players come over to the stands to sign balls or scorecards nowadays. It’s all about “special access” in this era, and we weren’t the on-field folks.

Fortunately, Mets prospect Reese Havens, the No. 22 overall pick in this year’s First-Year Player Draft, dropped by the dugout and signed balls for several fans (including my sons). Both Havens, the 21-year-old shortstop from the University of South Carolina, and fellow recent draftee Brad Holt donned Mets jerseys for BP, though who knows if they’ll ever wear them for real. But my boys were excited to get an autograph, even though none of their favorite players came over.

Some other random musings:

• Where was Mr. Met? The Mets’ mascot was a no-show through five, then appeared just for a few T-shirt blasts and never mingled anywhere near our boxes. What’s up with that?
• Hot dog or California roll? Friday night was the first time I got to try out the Metropolitan Club waiter service, and although I was tempted to add a side of sushi to our order just for the novelty, I stuck to the well worn “beer and a dog” philosophy.
• Eight, eight, seven: My nephew Bryan informs me that the proper number of claps to do in sequence to the “Everybody clap your hands” cheer is 31 - or eight, eight, seven. That helps save that embarrassing 32nd clap.
• Omar calling: I managed to snap a photo during BP of Omar Minaya talking on his cell phone. I wonder who was on the other end. Another GM? His agent? The Domino’s guy? You make the call.

Friday’s night it’ll be “Lets Go Mets,” but the addicting chant of “Fu - ku - do - me” dominated our repertoire Thursday afternoon at Wrigley, as the Chicago Cubs beat the Atlanta Braves in the bottom of the 11th inning on a walkoff hit batsman.

Before Thursday, I had never seen a walkoff hit batsman in person. Now I have.

Our first trip to the friendly confines of Wrigley was a blast. It’s an absolutely beautiful ballpark with a terrific atmosphere, friendly and funny ushers and great fans. Hardly a single soul left the building before the ninth, and an amazingly large majority stayed until the final errant pitch.

There were so many cool points about the trip, but it’s 2 a.m. and I need to get some sleep, so I’m going to skip the prose and just hammer out some bullet points:

• Again, the ballpark just pours out the aura, from the ivy on the brick home-run fence to the old scoreboard to the Harry face on the press box window. I spent most of BP just looking at scenery.
• I’ve never heard, or sang, such an enjoyable chorus of “Take Me Out To The Ballgame.”
• Perhaps it’s my immature side, but it’s a heckuva lot of fun to chant “Fu - ku - do - me” (clap, clap, clap clap clap) over and over. It just doesn’t get old.
• My kids weren’t happy about this point, but there were about five beer vendors who dropped by for every one soda/Gatorade vendor. I like those odds!
• After traveling some 700 miles from South Dakota to see the Cubbies play, we wound up sitting next to a guy visiting Chicago from North Dakota. How cool (and odd) is that?
• I haven’t had the opportunity to pee in those bathtub urinal things since the Tampa Bay Bucs knocked down the Old Sombrero. It sure brought back some memories.

I’ve got a ton more, but I need some shuteye. We’re shacked up in western PA and still have 380 miles to go before we hit NY.

The Voice promised, “Build it, and they will come,” so when the work on Citi Field started kicking into high gear during the offseason, I knew it was time to hit the road for one final game at Shea Stadium.

Of course for displaced Mets fans such as myself (and my boys), that’s a 1,400-mile trip, so the choice was either fly or turn

it into a guys-only road trip (my wife was happy to be left behind for this one). “Road trip!” we decided, and we added stops at the Field of Dreams movie site in Dyersvillle, Iowa, and Wrigley Field for an afternoon Cubs game to our itinerary.

The three of us headed out from South Dakota Wednesday morning and arrived at the Field of Dreams early afternoon. Rain fell steadily the entire trip, and by the flood warnings dominating the radio airwaves around Cedar Rapids, Cedar Falls and Waterloo, we figured we wouldn’t be getting any field time.

But we decided a little rain wasn’t going to make a 380-mile trip worthless, so we grabbed our gloves and headed out onto the famous field, which looks much different with a corn crop beyond the outfield that’s just inches high instead of tall enough to hide the ghost of Shoeless Joe.

We got a bit soggy playing catch, working on some infield drills and shagging flies, but our determination paid off within a half hour as the rain stopped and a nice family from Chicago showed up with several bats and balls not near as soggy as ours. They invited us to join them, and with the combined crew we were able to man nearly every position and all take a few swings and get caught in a rundown or two. It was a lot of fun and a nice break from driving.

The boys and I had fun taking pictures of each other making diving catches, and now James Earl Jones can never yell at them saying it’s not his fault they didn’t play catch with their dad!

Now we’re in Chicago, and we’ll be in the second deck of Wrigley Thursday afternoon for the Cubs’ game against the Atlanta Braves. It’s my first ever trek to Wrigley, the teams will be wearing throwback jerseys and I get the added bonus of getting to root against the Braves. What a combo!

After the game, it’s back on the road so we can make it to Shea for Friday’s contest against the Rangers.