COME DOWN OUT OF THAT TREE, FRANK.
Wow. What a night last night. There is no feeling like watching your team play baseball in October and win a game to stay alive. I have basically forsaken all work today in the pursuit of tickets to tonight’s game (successfully obtained just a few hours ago) and now am trying to postpone an arbitration prep until tomorrow so as to not miss even a second of today’s game.
At lunch today, one of my coworkers asked me while baseball was so important to me. I gave her the flip answer of a sports fan – the fun and excitement really bring out a certain euphoria in me – but later started to really think about how baseball in general and the Mets in particular, have affected my life.
One of the first songs I ever knew was the “Meet the Mets” song. I remember walking in the backyard of the house in which I was born and singing that song with my mother. I don’t even remember my first game, but I do remember watching Lenny Dykstra hit a home run to win an NLCS game in 1986. My father bought me a teddy bear at that game (appropriately named Lenny Dykstra) which still sits on a shelf in my old bedroom.
Fast forward to 1998 when my boyfriend (a Red Sox fan, clearly the relationship was doomed to fail) and I lived in Connecticut and would drive either to NY or Boston almost every Friday night to catch a game. This was a special date and only twice did we invite anyone else to come with us. Those Friday nights were just about the only time in our relationship where we both felt comfortable enough with each other to really be ourselves.
Then in 1999 and 2000 when I was still living in DC, but no trip up to NY to visit Sister was complete without a trip to Shea or Yankee Stadium. In October of 2000, I bonded with strangers in a bar during the World Series and cheered with Sister at Shea during another game (although she is a Yankees fan, Sister and I do well together at Subway Series events). In 2001 I went to 39 losing games in a row and considered myself cursed. And my very first conversation with Husband was about our mutual love for the Mets.
But there is more to it. This year, with the Mets in the playoffs, I have reconnected with some old friends. Both N and A were once good friends of mine but we drifted apart as friends sometimes do. This week, I have had a chance to reconnect with both of them and cheer on the Mets together in their battle for the pennant.
And tonight, Mother and I bought tickets to attend the game and, as if by magic, we were able to secure two more tickets so that Sister and Husband could also come along and sit a mere 6 rows behind us. Its not just about the game but that whenever I am at Shea, I am surrounded by those I love most, doing what I love most.
During the Division Series this year, Father commented to Husband that my smile at the game was equal to the smile on my face during my wedding. And why shouldn’t it be? Surrounded by those I love and watching my team play great baseball – I was almost as happy.
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2 comments:
The big fan should know the Subway series was in '00...'01 was Yanks/D-Backs, and the only time anyone outside of NY rooted for the Yankees to win.
A mere typo. I meant 2000 and will correct that post haste :)
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