Hey Buddy,

Tonight, Daddy is going to Game 3 of the World Series with your Uncle Pat and your grandfather, the man who you recently started calling “Pop.”  Where you came up with Pop instead of Grandpa or Daideo, I’ll never know. 

It crushes me that I can’t bring you with me. You’ll never know how much it does. You always come first. That’s why I wanted to bring you. I don’t know how many chances you will have to go to the World Series. It took me 35 years to go to the World Series. Your Uncle Pat 33 years. It took “Pop” 68 years. Hopefully, it won’t take that long for you.

However, I can’t bring you tonight. It’s going to be too cold. It’s too crowded. It wouldn’t be fair to you to have you sit there shivering. The FanFest area has been overcrowded during the postseason. I can’t even let you go there to run the bases or hang out with Mr. Met. It wouldn’t be fair to you to not let you be able to run around for a bit. 

I know you love going to Mets games. You’re a good boy, and you actually sit there and watch the game. You’ve tried to stay up and watch these postseason games with me. I always wanted a son. I’ve always wanted him to be a Mets fan. I always wanted to go to games and share the experience of being a Mets fan with that son. 

You’ve made it better than I ever could’ve imagined. It’s probably because you’re more amazing, smart, and adorable than anyone could’ve imagined. I love you more than anything, and that’s why ultimately, I can’t bring you tonight.

However, I’m going to wear the same Mets hat I wore the day you were born. I’m going to wear the Lucas Duda jersey you got me. I’m sure I will be bringing you home a souvenir of some kind. I will be making it up to you. How does Opening Day sound?

So when you’re watching the game with Mommy tonight keep an eye out for me. You never know if I’m going to be in one of the several hundred of Fox’s fan shots. Keep on cheering for Murphy and Duda. We’re going to watch the game together tomorrow night. I promise. 

Love,

Daddy

P.S. Lets Go Mets!