The Best $175 I've Ever Spent

(Note: Two pieces for you today. The first, by A.F.O.M.G. appears here and is about last night's Players Choice Club event featuring several members of the New Mets. The second, by Sippy Momo, appears immediately below and is about the hungriest, most exciting team in the NBA, the New York Knicks.)

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. So I've been glowing since about 9:30 p.m. last night, and no, it's got nothing to do with Ricky Ledee.

Why? Well, the short answer is that last night was everything I was hoping for and more. You see, normally Monday nights without a ball game are a ton of salt. Hell's Kitchen is amazing, but other than that, the only thing a Monday night without a Mets game has going for it is that it isn't Monday morning.

But last night was different. That's because I plunked down 175 big ones in order to attend the Players Choice Club benefit at the Beacon Restaurant, where David Wright, Cliff Floyd, Jose Valentin, Julio Franco, Paul Lo Duca and Xavier Nady were scheduled to attend.

Xavier couldn't make it, Julio was MIA and Paulie evidently spent his first day of post-marital acrimony at the track. In place of Nady stepped the young and fiery Lastings Milledge, in place of Lo Duca was yesterday's cover of the New York Post, and in place of Julio stood the old and bloated personage of Bobby Bonilla.

What on earth Bobby Bo was doing there is anybody's guess, but perhaps it has something to do with the fact that we're paying the guy $2 million every year for the next 20 years simply because he agreed to let us cut him (or something like that).

Either way, Bonilla looked horrible, and that pulled pork last night couldn't have helped. I didn't even recognize him until he gave the patented frown that used to accompany every strikeout or error he committed.

You know the one, the one where his mouth assumes an almost impossible downward arc and he tries to look like he doesn't notice the booing but on the inside you know it's eating up his soul? That one.

But the night wasn't about Bobby Bo, who went largely unnoticed by the crowd of Mets devotees. It was about the New Mets, and that's where Cliffy, Valentin, Lastings and D-Wright got into the act.

Cliff, Lastings, and Valentin were there from the get-go. My observations of each and are as follows:

1. Cliff Floyd.

The man is huge. Not taller than me necessarily (although possibly), but just absolutely ripped. You put him in a room with a bunch of dudes like me, a bunch of reporters, and a bunch of dads who are there so that their kids can see their heroes, and a guy like that is really gonna stand out.

Maybe it's because he wears his uniform baggy but I had never thought of him as being as jacked as he is.

I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but I was totally star struck when I saw him there. He seemed like a good guy, he shook hands with everyone who approached him, but I couldn't bring myself to say hello. On a night of few regrets, that one stands out.

2. Jose Valentin.

Next!

No, just kidding (well, kind of). I didn't approach Valentin either. He had his family there and while he seemed quite affable, it just wasn't a high priority for me to meet him. I considered mentioning that he lives in the same building as a friend of mine, but I thought that would just creep him out.

There was an amusing moment early on while Valentin was filming a commercial for MLB or the Players Choice Club, and the director had trouble getting him to say his lines in Spanish.

Jose speaks pretty good English so it was probably just a matter of noise in the room, but hearing the director shout "Say it in Spanish!" over and over again while Jose kept saying "What?" was amusing enough.

3. Lastings Milledge.

Ahh, Lastings. Thrilledge showed up sporting a diamond-encrusted cross in place of the large wooden one we became so familiar with in his Major League debut, and the same Latina biscuit who accompanied him in his limo ride on that installment of "Next Stop Shea".

Maybe it was that he's so new to the league or that he's younger than I am, but for whatever reason, I didn't feel nervous approaching Lastings for a picture. He was a little cold in his reception, but he smiled for the picture, and now that picture adorns my facebook.com page. I'm buying.

4. David Wright.

Hmm, who am I forgetting? Bobby Bo, check. Jose Valentin, right.

Oh of course, the Prince of the City, the man one of my new acquaintances referred to as Elvis, David Wright.

Word that D-Wright would be late spread quickly. I showed up shortly after 6, and by 6:20 I had heard that Wright wouldn't arrive until 7:40. When he did, the entire room erupted. The men started applauding, the women started cooing, one biscuit through her underwear -- the guy was a rock star.

Would that I were 23 years old, played professional baseball, and stood to make $55 million over the next 6 years! Well, one out of three ain't bad.

Anyway, it was bedlam when Wright sauntered in, and then again when the line began to form for pictures to be taken. Unlike the process with Lastings, Cliff, and Jose, the picture-taking process with Wright was quite formal. He stood at the top of a small stairway and people waited on a lengthy line.

Me, I hung by the bar with my new buddies (I might consider calling them colleagues, but that probably wouldn't be fair to them), and waited for the line to slim down. Then I made my approach.

When my turn came, I hopped up the steps, gave the guy a solid handshake (no dead fish, thank god), and asked him if he could teach me the handshake that he and Mr. Glass do. He laughed in a way that seemed to suggest that he'd heard that one before, but still, he was as nice as we've all been led to expect. The line for pictures was really quite long but Wright stood there and smiled for everyone who wanted one.

As I stood next to this New York icon, I couldn't help but think of how horribly depressing it was that he was only 8 days my senior. The world is truly that guy's oyster.

Bloggers Summit.

So meeting the players was great, but just as exciting for a fan like me was the chance to meet and talk baseball with some of the Mets blogosphere's finest.

I spoke at length with Matt Cerrone of Metsblog (as if he needed the introduction), Joe McDonald from New York Sports Day, Mark Healey from Gotham Baseball, as well as a guy named Dave who writes the profiles on the backs of baseball cards for Topps.

Having the opportunity to hear their gossip and just generally talk baseball with these guys who know so much more about the Mets than even a diehard like me does was really a great experience.

For his part, Cerrone will be part of a panel discussion at the 92nd Street Y on the Upper East Side on Wednesday, August 16. The guy easily ranks as one of the nicest people I've ever met, so if you can make it out, show up and throw some support his way.

Anyway, that about does it for my recap of the Players Choice Club event. The food was tasty, the drinks were part of the package, and I got to meet the Mets and some of the men who cover them. It was without question the best Monday night without a Mets game since Jack Bauer got his shit jacked by the Chinese.

- A.F.O.M.G.