Raising a Mets Fan
If you’re getting your child’s first haircut, yes, go to a place like Snip-its. They will give you a certificate for the first haircut along with a lock of your child’s hair. After that, never go back there again.
The next few times we went there with my son, it was a disaster. First, they put the toys they sell at the kid’s eye level. While you wait for your turn (they don’t take appointments), they keep wanting to play with the toys. To a certain extent, it’s mean to put toys right within the sight of a toddler and not let them play with them. When you finally get to your turn, the experience is less than pleasant.
For all the times we have been there, we have yet to find someone who actually listens to you when you say how you want the hair cut. Their goal is to cut the hair as quickly as possible and get to the next kid. Look, I understand. They make money with quick turnover. It just doesn’t make for the best experience.
To make matters worse, they give your child toys to play with during the haircut to help keep them quiet. Then, they have to take the toys back. Again, I understand. However, as a parent, it’s hard to take toys away from a child after they tried their best to be good and cooperate. We learned our lesson and brought him his own toys, but then we go back to the aforementioned problems in the preceding paragraph.
For this experience, you get to pay $22 plus tip. I don’t spend that much for my own haircuts.
Yesterday, we took a shot at taking him to Sport Clips. I needed my haircut as well, so my wife and I figured it was worth a shot for the two of us to try it. We figured it had to be better than another Snip-its experience. It was.
First, my son was mesmerized by the giant big screen TV playing college basketball when we entered. There was a wait, but while he was waiting, he got to watch the game. They also gave him a lollipop.
I went first while he waited with my wife. They had no problem with him coming over to take a look and talking to me.
Then it was his turn. The hairstylist talked with my wife to find out specifically how she wanted my son’s haircut. If you have children, you know by now it’s what your wife wants that matters most. The hairstylist cut his hair exactly how my wife wanted.
While the haircut was happening, my son alternated between watching the game and playing with Mater and Percy. He liked sitting in the chair like a big boy instead of being strapped in the way they do it at Snip-its. Overall, the only thing my son didn’t like was getting his hair sprayed with water:
Overall, it was a good haircut and a good experience. Furthermore, I liked the $15 price a lot better than the $22 Snip-its price. I also liked the punch card I received. After six haircuts, his next one is half-price.
On the way our the door, my son received another lollipop and was given a pencil. He said good bye to everyone. It’s difficult getting a haircut for a toddler. You’re asking them to sit still for a long time between waiting for your turn and then getting the actual haircut. Sports Clips made it a pleasant experience for my family.
With that said, if you need to get a haircut for your toddler, go to Sports Clips. It’s cheaper and a better experience.
Editor’s Note: this is not a paid advertisement. However, anytime Sports Clips, or anyone else wants to advertise, their money is welcome.
It has been less than a week, but Yoenis Cespedes has been the talk of the town again. Last year, it was because of the homeruns. This week, the buzz started when Cespedes’ rolled into camp with a Polaris Slingshot:
More shots of Cespedes's new three-wheel ride. Mets teammates even came out to see it. pic.twitter.com/29CkA5Srqf
— Andrew Beaton (@andrewlbeaton) February 23, 2016
Looking at it, it’s nothing more than a tricycle. If all it takes to be cool is to ride a tricycle and hit homeruns, my son’s got that:
On top of all of that, he just looks like one “cool guy” whatever he does:
So while, Cespedes is cool, while he’s got that swagger, he’s got nothing on my son.
Today finally felt like baseball is not that far away. Pitchers and Catchers have already reported. The temperature was in the 50’s. And the Mets were playing pepper:
A perfect morning in PSL. ⚾️ #Mets #SpringTraining pic.twitter.com/fcVu9f7a6Z
— New York Mets (@Mets) February 22, 2016
Pepper games bring me back to when I was a kid. Back then, before teams realized they could use the area behind homeplate for advertising, there was a simple notice to everyone at Shea Stadium:
NO PEPPER GAMES
Go back and watch a classic Mets game from the 80’s. The sign is there clear as day. Remember, this was back in a day and age where you could smoke in the stands and grab a beer on the way out of the ballpark. That’s fine as long as you don’t play pepper.
I’m sure there was avoid reason like fan safety, but it doesn’t seem like baseball without pepper games. Whenever you watch a baseball documentary like “When It Was a Game” or Ken Burns’ “Baseball” there was the old black and white footage of players playing pepper.
I still remember playing pepper with my Dad and brother down at the park. I remember doing it at baseball practice. I’m such a baseball nut that when the weather got nice, some friends and I would have a catch and play some pepper. When my son gets older, I plan on doing it with him.
These are the things I look forward to with my son. When the weather gets nice, I want to have a catch with him outside. I want to pitch to him and see that lefty bat in action hitting line drives all over the place. I want to play pepper.
Most of all right now, I’m ready for baseball. The cool Spring days to the warm Summer nights. The cold endless October evenings. Baseball season is upon us. Time to break out the mitts. Time to break out the bats. Time to get that arm warmed up to toss the call around.
I’m ready. I know my son is as well.
This is a whole new generation. When I was growing up, we had candy cigarettes (gone) and Big League Chew (still around). While playing baseball, we used to have the candy cigarettes so we could smoke like Keith Hernandez, or we would shove a ton of Big League Chew in our mouths to look like Lenny Dykstra. Dykstra was such a legendary chewer that he was said to have stained the AstroTurf at the old Vet.
As kids, we used this stuff because we thought it was cool to look like ballplayers. Did we try to real stuff? Well, not as kids. It’s s good thing too because it would’ve been like that scene in The Sandlot:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=CAxuXNxsNMk
Personally, I never really had any interest. Part of the reason was my parents. Another part was I was a catcher. I’ve seen catchers who have used chewing tobacco, but to me that was a pain. I tried seeds, which is similar in principle, but it annoyed me. So I went without any of it for most of my baseball life.
Then I got older, got big, and was moved out from behind the plate. Part of “rookie” hazing was getting them to throw in a dip and watch the hilarity ensue. It wasn’t pleasant.
In any event, I found myself playing that dreaded DH position more and more, which means you spend a lot of time on the bench. Many of those guys throw one in, so you usually do as well. You practice that finger motion with your index finger so you can pack it better and tighter. One day, it all becomes second nature.
When I was in college, it was great. There were a couple of nights, it helped me get through the all-nighters. Also, there were some bars in the area where if you didn’t throw one in, you were out of place. Honestly, I wasn’t so much addicted to it as I loved doing it.
A good friend of mine and me used to love dipping while watching baseball games. We would not only watch the games, but we would also keep an eye out for who was dipping. You would see the finger going in the dugout. The circle shape in the player’s uniform pants. That ever so slight bump in the bottom lip. If you ever saw it in the top lip, you knew that guy was having real problems. Looking at the Mets now, I can tell you who does and who doesn’t dip. I can do that for any team if I watch them long enough.
Eventually, I quit. It really is a nasty habit. More importantly, it’s dangerous. We saw Tony Gwynn die too young because of it. We saw Curt Schilling battle cancer. As much as I enjoyed it, it really wasn’t worth it.
The strange part is I never would’ve started had it not been part of baseball’s culture. No sport is as associated with smokeless tobacco than baseball. I thought about all of this when I saw Tim Rohan’s New York Times article about New York City looking to ban smokeless tobacco from being used in places like Citi Field and Yankee Stadium.
There’s a lively debate to be had here about whether this law is a good idea or not. It’s a debate that should occur. However, at the end of the day, I’m more concerned for that two year old of mine that loves baseball. I realize that NYC can put every law in place they want, but it won’t matter. It doesn’t matter because the problem is baseball.
The city bans smoking, but we hear about Yoenis Cespedes smoking between innings. We see players using smokeless tobacco all over the field. As we see with Cespedes, a player will find a work-around. You should hear how they work around smokeless tobacco bans and stigmas in other sports. Overall, players will always find a way to do it.
If that’s the case, it’ll always be associated with baseball, and that’s not a good thing. Baseball needs to help find a reasonable solution to this because what they have so far isn’t working. They need to figure it out because one day that Big League Chew becomes Skoal or Red Man. That needs to stop before another generation of players starts using it.
I don’t want to see another Tony Gwynn.
Well, I didn’t quite make it to work today. There’s a simple reason. My son did his best Linda Blair impersonation. I heard him say, “Uh oh” and then vomit all over. I mean all over. He even hit me. It was on my shirt, in my hair. Everywhere.
Worse yet, I was woefully unprepared for it. Like an idiot, I thought these days were done. When my son was a baby, we were always prepared for vomits and blowouts. Now that he’s a toddler? We’re mostly prepared for spilled milk and the like. Well today, I put the provisions back in place, which are:
- Liter of bottle of water
- Dawn paper towels
- Clorox wipes
- Garbage bag
- Paper towels
Seriously, I cannot stress enough the need for the Dawn paper towels. Once you get them wet, it permits you to scrub whatever surface of your car, or child’s clothing with soap and water (the liter that’s in your car). Keep in mind, you don’t need a lot. A little goes a long way. Most of the time, I’ve been able to clean whatever issue was present with the Dawn paper towels. More importantly, you’re going to reduce the smell in the car for when you’re finally going to get back on the road.
The Clorox wipes are to wipe down any toys and the like that are salvageable. I threw away two coloring books today, but I was able to wipe down some toy cars.
Before you depart, you don’t want to leave everything soapy. Use the remaining water and rinse the areas that had to be cleaned with the Clorox paper towels. You want to get rid of a the soap, and you want to make sure you got everything.
It should go without saying, all of the aforementioned steps come AFTER you’ve cleaned off your child.
Overall, I’ve found this kit helps really well. I only wish I had it with me today. I hope now you’ll have it with you.
Do you remember when the Mets got Rickrolled?
In the last season at Shea, the Mets had a vote for the 8th Inning Sing-a-long. There were the obvious choices, but Rick Astley’s 80’s anthem “Never Gonna Give You Up” won by a landslide as a write-in vote. The Mets played it on Opening Day, and the fans booed. I was there, and I never figured out why. In my opinion, it was better than ripping off the Red Sox with “Sweet Caroline.” In any event, the Mets stopped playing it after Opening Day. The people spoke, and the Mets refused to be a party to it.
It’s what the NHL tried to do with John Scott. Scott was voted a starter in the NHL All Star Game due to a fan movement. Scott is an enforcer that doesn’t get much ice time. These guys rarely receive votes let alone get voted to the All Star Game, and yet he was. He then saw himself as the “centerpiece” of a trade sending him from the Phoenix Coyotes to the Montreal Canadians, who sent him to the AHL (minors). He was not only out of the division and conference, he was out of the league.
As Scott said is his The Players’ Tribune piece, they did everything they could do to keep him out of this game. It was his only shot, a shot he realized he didn’t earn, and they were trying to take it away from him. When sticking him in the minors didn’t work, they invoked his family by asking:
Do you think this is something your kids would be proud of?
There is nothing so small, petty, and classless than to invoke someone’s family. It’s even lower to bring up someone’s children. John Scott then did the only thing he could do . . . he played.
Scott dominated the headlines, and then he dominated the headlines. He would again win the vote. This time no one would question whether or not he deserved it.
There’s no doubt John Scott’s children were proud of him today. They’re probably proud of him each and every day as they know him as their father. John Scott acquitted himself well as a man and hockey player this weekend. That’s how you respond when you get Rickrolled.
Congratulations to John Scott!
Over at Brew and Orange, they are doing a giveaway for the person who has the best Mike Piazza story. Since the giveaway includes Rheingold beer accessories, which was once the beer of the Mets and my grandfather’s beer of choice, I’m interested. I suggest you go to his site and so your own submission. This is mine.
Back in 2013, my wife was pregnant with our son. At that time, I was already planning on how to make him a Mets fan. We ordered him a knit Mets cap. When I talked to him, I would read books, and of course, I would tell him about the Mets because, well, I have problems. No one believes me, except my wife who was obviously there for this, but I would say, “Lets Go Mets!” and he would kick back three times in the same rhythmic pattern. I digress.
In 2013, the Mets also hosted the All Star Game. For various reasons, my family only went to All Star Sunday, which is the Future’s Game and the All Star Legends and Celebrity All Star Game. My wife suggested we take one of the several Mets onesies we had to get it autographed for the baby. I thought it was a great idea because I would be seeing future Met All Stars like Noah Syndergaard as well as former Met greats like Mike Piazza.
Now, at the time I did work with a guy who used to play minor league ball. In fact, he had a cup of coffee in the majors. He refers to himself as the modern day Moonlight Graham because while he got to play one game, he never got an at bat. The strike happened, and his career was over. This guy told me he played on the same minor league team as Mike Piazza, and he knew him. When I told him my plan, he said he would reach out to him, and he would work to get me that autograph for my son. He eventually told me that I should go meet Piazza by the home dugout after the softball game was over to get my autograph.
With the Future’s Game and Softball Game, I tried to get the onesie signed with no luck. I was alright with that because Piazza was the prize, and I knew exactly when and where to meet him. After the game was over, I made my way down to the home dugout area.
Initially, there was no sight of Piazza. Then again, the area was flooded with people interviewing Kevin James, who was the MVP of the game. No one was really signing anything at the time except him. I just waited there for when Piazza was going to come out and give autographs. I was standing at the exact place and location I was told to stand. I waited and waited and stubbornly waited. Then it happened! Piazza emerged from the home dugout . . . and he immediately made a beeline to the visitor’s dugout area.
I thought this can’t be happening. Something must’ve been lost in translation. Mike Piazza was going to be there looking for me, and I wasn’t going to be there. I was going to miss out on getting an autograph for my son. I then did what every parent does when they are trying to get something for their child. They act quickly and somewhat irrationally. I started jumping the walls that separate each section to get over to Piazza as quickly as possible.
Keep in mind that as I’m doing this there is literally almost no one left at Citi Field. An usher half my size (I’m between 6’5″ – 6’7″ depending on the 7-11) grabs my arm and begins screaming at me. There was some nonsense about respecting Citi Field and how I’m acting like a hoodlum. I exchanged pleasantries as well, but I made sure not to respond physically.
The guy “ushered” me to the stop of the section and turned me over to police explaining the situation. Before I could get a word in edgewise, the police said they saw the whole thing. They mocked the usher and told him to stop bothering me. I explained to the police what I was trying to do, and I sought their help. They told me they couldn’t help and told me I should probably just head home. I was undeterred. I began running all the way to the other side of Citi Field.
By the way, I’m really slow. Almost embarrassingly so. While Piazza might’ve still be there during the hoopla with the usher, he most certainly was not there when I got over there. I went into one of the nearest suites to stand in the air conditioning for a second. Standing there was my brother who actually thought I was fleeing police and security . . . as if that was possible. While I was a free man, I didn’t have Piazza’s autograph.
I went to work the next day, and I apologized to the guy who set everything up. He then began laughing hysterically. He then explained that he did hang out with Piazza a few times in the minors, but he never reached out to him. He had no idea how. I was baffled. I asked him why did he concoct that whe scenario. His response was basically that he figured if Piazza was signing anything, he would do it there. He also figured if Piazza didn’t sign anything he would just say something came up like it does all the time.
Fortunately, I was able to get Mets to sign the onesie and other items for my son. I have a framed Darryl Strawberry jersey (that’s another story) for him. What I don’t have is a Mike Piazza autograph. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get a chance again.
Overall, all of my chances were ushered out the door in July 2013.
There are a few things I pride myself on. One of them is that I’m always prepared. I’m that guy you hate because my Christmas shopping is done before Black Friday. I’ve found that to be more difficult with a son. When this snowstorm came, I was completely unprepared.
To put things is perspective, this was the second big snowstorm with my son. Last year, he hated it. HATED! Back then, he was still a little guy. At first, he was all excited to run in the snow, but then he got stuck. It went up to his belly. As such, when I heard about this year’s snowfall, the last thing I thought of was him playing in the snow.
The thing of it is a kids love playing in snow. It hit me almost too late. I had to run out Friday during lunch to get a sled. Toys R Us? Sold out. Target? Sold out. Models? Didn’t carry them. Home Depot? Nope. I basically had to go into Dicks and get the only one they had left. I envisioned the type of sled I wanted to get my son, but it wasn’t it. At this point in the game, beggers can’t be choosers.
How’d it go? Well, this year, my son loved the snow. He couldn’t wait to go out and play in it. He got angry with me when I went out to shovel last night because he thought I was playing in the snow without him. This morning I gave him the plastic shovel and let him push it around the driveway. Sure, he messed up a lot of what I already did, but he was so excited to be helping his daddy. It was worth it to have to re-shovel some areas
As for the sledding? He wasn’t as big a fan as I hoped he would be.
He wanted to shovel more. I seriously hope he stays this way forever. First, it would save me the time and effort. Second, it would give him more incentive to go out and earn a few bucks like I did as a kid. I digress. That’s how toddlers are. I’m sure if I started with the sledding, he not have wanted to stop that. It’ll probably be a different story next year.
In any event, when the snow comes, you need more than milk, bread, and eggs. You need to go out early and make sure you get your kid a sled before all the other parents do.
With Daniel Murphy signing with the Nationals, my son has to find a new favorite Met. Honestly, I didn’t steer him in the direction of Murphy. I wouldn’t because I knew he might be gone. Initially, his favorite player was Lucas Duda, but somewhere that changed.
Some of it might have been my personal feelings towards Murphy. I was always a huge fan of his. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of Duda, but Murphy was my favorite Met.
Now, Matt Harvey is my favorite Met. He was the one that gave us all hope. I will always appreciate him for what he did in Game Five of the World Series. With that said, I don’t want him to become my son’s favorite player. The main reason is Harvey will be a free agent in 2019. That’s not that far away, and I would prefer for him to root for a player who will be around longer than that. With that said, I’ve narrowed it down to three choices:
I honestly picked these three guys because they broke into the majors last year, and as a natural extension, should be around the longest. Each have their own separate pull.
I like Matz because my son and I attended his first ever game. He’s a lifelong Mets fan who actually became a Met. He’s a left-handed pitcher, and any motivation I can use to get my son to throw left-handed is an added benefit.
Thor has the cool nickname, and he looks like the real deal. It’s easy to get a kid excited about a guy who throws 100 MPH and strikes a lot of guys out. I could also play this Pedro Martinez clip incessantly:
If you don’t think a two year old boy wouldn’t find it fun and hilarious to run around screaming, “THOR!” all day, you’re nuts.
The last option is Conforto. Conforto burst on the scene and played better than fans either reasonably or inreasonably expected. He hits left-handed as my son does now (Murphy left an impression). He’s an everyday player, which is a huge benefit. First, pitchers are more prone to have injuries that could leave them out for extended time or possibly be career threatening. Most importantly, when I bring my son to a game, it is more likely than Conforto will play. I don’t have to count every five days and hope there are no spot starts or skipped starts so he can see his favorite player.
With that said, I think I’m going to spend Spring Training trying to convert my son into a Conforto fan. If the past is any judge, he will select a player on his own. With that said, he may very well choose Conforto as his new favorite Met all on his own. That would be even better.
No matter what happens, I’m playing that Thor clip constantly because to me having him scream “THOR!” will be hilarious. I ask for my wife’s forgiveness in advance.
Each and every year, on the anniversary of 9/11, mourners gather to commemorate the lives lost after a terrorist attack on our nation’s soil. The moment is important each year because we need to remember not only those lives lost, but also the reason why they lost their lives. They lost their lives because we’re free and our country helps protect those that need protection.
This moment is important to everyone but CBS. I still remember the day they cut away from the 9/11 memorial because well football. Apparently, honoring the victims of 9/11 is important until kickoff. To this day, I’m irritated over it.
I thought about all of this today because it’s Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. To some, it’s a day off. To others, it’s a day you have to go to work while others have the day off. On CBS, they will air Supergirl, Scorpion, and NCIS: Los Angeles. No one is going to take real time to contemplate what MLK meant to the country. In essence, why have the day off?
With that said, I’m taking my small corner of the world, and I’m taking time to share not my words about Martin Luther King, Jr., but his words. His “I Have a Dream Speech” should be aired nationally at a specific time across all networks on the day we honor him. Instead, they’ll appear here:
Thank you for taking the time out to listen. God bless you, and may God bless America.