Word is Bond

(Note: Sip wrote the following piece while watching the Mets' postgame celebration last night.)

My first friend at college was a kid named Robbie. I played sports against him since we were 6 and the kid was a diehard Mets fan. Check and check. I had my first friend.

I haven't spoken to Robbie in almost 3 years. No real reason, we kind of just both went out separate ways. I hadn't spoken to him until last night.

New Mets!!!

That is what this team means to me. It is a passion, a hobby, it's family and it is friends. They are that huge a part of my life.

When that soft liner landed in Uncle's glove I didn't really know how to react. It was that awesome of a feeling. I smiled and I had chills. I looked at KFC who had the same shit eating grin.

We watched our boys celebrate. Paul Lo Duca put it best, when talking to Y2K legend Chris Cotter: "I fucking... freaking love it."

I'm not going to say that this is part one of many. I don't need to do that. I feel more like Rod Tidwell laying down in endzone. Please, just let me enjoy this one for a second.

Monday night was perfect. It wasn't too easy but it was never too hard. I could feel the excitement from my lounge chair in Los Angeles. I needed to be there but couldn't be. And that was ok. I am sitting here now watching the Mets storm back on the field, 45 minutes after the game, watching our boys come out on the field and celebrate with the fans.

D Wright has a cigar in his mouth, Glass is dancing, and of course smiling.

It is all just perfect. Watching Julie Donaldson get doused in Champagne, I'm pretty sure Duaner Sanchez purposely got her chest area.

This is all sort of stream-of-consciousness and for that I apologize. But that is how this all feels. I'm watching our kids, our little brothers, Wright and Reyes run around the field boxes and high five the remaining fans.

This is not a group of baseball players wearing a Mets uniform. These guys are Mets. They wear the blue and orange on their chest just like I do and just like all of you do.

AFOMG just called me. That kid was in a 6 year rut until just now. This is why we are fans. This is why we follow a team. For moments like these when all of our dedication, all those 100's and 1000's of games that we have watched with each other, make it all worth while.

Lastings Milledge had his first drink tonight. I can't say the same for young Sip. I fucking love all of you guys as much as I love this team. And I am proud to say, in a time where most athletes seem like rich spoiled assholes, these guys just seem like they are just a bunch of awesome guys.
Our leader is a 23-year-old baseball geek from Virginia. His mate on the left side has never stopped smiling. Our best players are two softspoken veterans from Latin America.

Our star pitchers are a quirky lightning rod who has now dominated basebal for a decade and the most respectable of veterans. That is why they are all on the field right now. They are enjoying it with us the fans, cause that is who they are.

I don't what lies ahead of us, but what I do know is that what we have had so far has been truly amazing.

And just as I was ready to wrap up it happened. For the first time of my life, I heard Jose Reyes speak. I didn't really understand him and neither did Chris Cotter. But I heard him speak. For those of you who have been with us all season, you know what that means to me.

Hope you all enjoy this celebration. I am definitely looking forward to the next one. I'll see you all back in NYC in October.

Vaya con dios,

Sippy Momo