A Million Little Moments
For a guy like me, I can't fake it when it comes to sports enthusiasm. I can't get into the Knicks, the Giants, the Rangers, whoever, the way I get into the Mets.
Hockey I just can't get into altogether, so that's that.
Football, I enjoy watching the Giants, but I would never read an article about the Giants during the offseason, nor would I pine for the start of the season. Moreover, I could just as easily root for the Jets, frankly, and god knows that's not how I feel about New York's baseball teams.
As for the Knicks, maybe I just don't have the energy to root for two teams that always disappoint. I'll watch their games, hope they do well, but I won't live and die with them.The Mets are different though, and I've been reminded how much I miss the season lately. It started with the Knicks opener, which I watched half-interested through the first three quarters.
By the time the fourth quarter came around I was on the phone with my girlfriend, interjecting our conversation with a periodic "Oh my god, they're going to lose." It got me to thinking of how I would have felt if the Mets blew a 4-run lead in the 9th in their home opener, and that's what brought me back.
See, there are a hundred different things to love about baseball, but in season when your team is winning there's more like a million.
I remember Opening Day. Opening Day for me really began some time in November, 2005.
I was about four months into my job and I hadn't taken any vacation days. Then the 2006 schedule was released and I saw it. April 3, 2006 -- the Mets' home and season opener. I instantly sent an e-mail to my bosses requesting the day off; kindly, they acquiesced.
The next four months were a blur of cold weather, longing for baseball, and Sundays at Blondies. Then March rolled around and you could hardly contain how anxious you were.
On April 2 I was as excited as a 23-year-old guy can get. Two days earlier I had written my final post of the offseason, a piece about the top 10 songs I associated with the Mets. I burned the songs onto a CD before I went to bed, and then first thing in the morning I was off to get the car, pick up Sip, Steamin', a couple others as well.
We listened to the CD on our way out, listened to some Strokes as well. When we got to the ballpark it was about 3 hours to game time. We were parked there with our Yankees 2000 poster, a reference to a website which no one had ever heard of, so naturally we got a bunch of "Fuck you's" and "Fuck the Yankees" thrown our way.
Mostly though we had a bunch of people come up who were excited to just be outside Shea Stadium again, excited that a few hours from then they'd be watching the Mets play for the first time in months.
It's the same excitement I felt that time when I raced around the Lower East Side trying to find a bar to watch the Mets beat the Braves in extra innings. I watched the first few innings at Lister's place, then depended on text messages from Sip to keep me updated through the middle innings.
The Mets fell behind 6-2 but came back to even the score in the late innings. I threw 60 bucks down and went running from bar-to-bar on the LES, looking for a place that had the Mets game on, as spaghetti bolognese bounded around my stomach.
Finally I found a bar that had them on, and I spent the next hour talking with a middle-aged dude named Ken, who was frustrated that he couldn't score with any white chicks, but who nevertheless encouraged me that the Mets would win the game.
When the Mets won on a hit by David Wright I high fived the people in my immediate vicinity and burst out of the bar, my Mets hat feeling great upon my head.
But even that didn't compare to the night after the first Mets-Yankees game of the year, the one where we came back from a 4-0 first inning deficit to beat Randy Johnson and the Yanks.
Wearing my Mets t-shirt around town that night was electric. People were shouting things from outside car windows, honking their horns. I wore it to one of my favorite lounge/bar type place where at least 10 other dudes were wearing Mets gear, each of us desperate to talk about the game with one another.
Not all the memories are as good as those ones. The next night after that game on May 19 was the one where Wagner blew the 4-run lead. That was a bad one. The season ended on a sour note of course. No forgetting that one either.
But that's the thing about basball. Somewhere in the midst of those 162 games are a million little moments that just make every part of your day-to-day life better. And when it's over it's really shitty.
But that's just the way it goes I guess. Since the Mets were eliminated I've seen the Killers in concert and went to Saturday Night Live. Tonight I'm seeing Albert Hammond, Jr. (that's the guitarist from the Strokes, the one with the moppy hair) perform songs from his solo CD. Hopefully I'll see Borat some time this weekend. I'm going to Mexico the week after next.
As for now though all I've got is the concert tonight and the Hot Stove, and that's just not the same as a Mets game.
Especially when the Post reports the Mets are mulling signing Mike Mussina. Like the Yankees would ever let that happen.
- A.F.O.M.G.
posted by A Friend of Mr. Glass' at 1:24 PM
3 Comments:
June 11, im driving back from long island after the mets finished off their sweep of the dbacks during that great road trip that really put distance between us and the rest of the NL East. Had a couple buddies in the car with me and we're cheering the team on -- that was fucking sweet.
That 16-inning or whatever it was game, when Reyes tied it with a homer in the 9th (or 8th) -- the look on his face when he gave the love right back to the fans. When you look up joie de vivre in the dictionary, there should be a picture of Jose, circa 2006.
And then Beltran connecting for the walk-off in the wee hours that same night, a gorgeous swing that sent a no-doubter way out into the black sky.
Oh, man, what might have been....
However it ended, it was a great season.
AFOMG - I wouldn't have attended the Killers show either, because of a little thing I called the World Series :-) Unfortunately, I was meant to see the Killers. The good news is - I now understand their album better. I didn't get it at first - after seeing them live, it was good stuff
It's true, though, what you mean about other sports...I gave up on my beloved hockey as my "winter" sport back in 04-05, during the strike. I guess it was typified by my favorite player of all time Jeremy Roenick (though he never played on my team, the Rangers) telling the fans to go fuck themselves even though we were pissed about the strike. No, Jeremy, go fuck YOURself. I wanted nothing to do with it then.
What's funny though is my dad is still die-hard about hockey as ever. And he got all mad at me when I told him I wouldn't go to a hockey game if you paid me, bought all my food, bought my ticket AND the PATH ticket home. He called me fair-weather. I said - Dad, it's not like we're talking about the Mets here.
And it is different. I've been a baseball fan a lot longer than hockey fan, true, but the Mets were bad for so many of those years, but it didn't matter to me. I still loved them, and the Rangers always came in second, even though the Mets season was usually over way before their season even started.
So my point is - I need baseball. It's a different kind of love.
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