Raising a Mets Fan
When my son was first born, I began watching hockey with him. Between the Olympics and the Rangers Stanley Cup run, it was pure magic. I enjoyed every minute of it.
Last year was tough. The Rangers won the President’s Trophy in what looked like a Stanley Cup or bust season. I still remember that fateful Game 7 of the Eastern Conference Finals. However, what I remember wasn’t the frustrating loss. It was my son’s fever. I remember spending that entire game trying to bring the fever down. I wasn’t able to accomplish it until sometime after midnight. It was a long, hard night. Normally after a loss like that, I’m up all night. That morning I was able to put my head down and go to sleep. The next day was a whole other story, especially with my son’s fever having gone away.
Since that time, my son has been much more interested in baseball just like his daddy. Just like in 2014, he and I enjoyed a magical run that fell just short. I think I took it harder than he did both times.
Tonight, the Rangers take on the Lightning again. The Rangers can’t exact revenge tonight. No, it’s just a reminder of how close the Rangers were last year. They seem to know and so far has responded by jumping out of the gate with a 14-2-2 record. The team may have its faults, but it is primed for another run to the Stanley Cup.
With the Mets season over, I’m back in full time. The Rangers are yet again a good team that’s enjoyable to watch. However, I’m not sure I can take a third straight year of one of my teams falling just short of winning a championship.
Just like in 1994, New York needs a championship. You’re the best team in New York, and you have the playoff experience to deliver one. It’s time the Rangers get King Henrik a proper crown.
Lets Go Rangers!
Editors Note: apologies to the Islanders fans who read this blog. I promise the Rangers will not be a regular feature. It was more of a reaction to the irritation surrounding the Mets offseason.
It was announced that Pepsi will no longer be sponsoring the Pepsi Porch at Citi Field. While it’s unclear who called the deal off, it’s a tough blow to Pepsi.
Just as the Mets were getting good again, the team is primed to have more nationally televised games. It’s possible the Mets will have more postseason games. With the lefty hitters like Lucas Duda and Michael Conforto, we were bound to see the Pepsi Porch a few times over the next couple of years. Instead Pepsi is left with this:
It’s just as well. I’m old enough to remember the days when Pepsi wasn’t offered at Shea. It was RC Cola. As a result, I’ve never associated Pepsi with the Mets. It was always RC Cola, even if I complained to my Dad each time that the soda he got me at the game wasn’t Pepsi.
Unfortunately, RC Cola has seemingly gone away with other classics like Tab, Jolt, and Snapple Root Beer. Whenever, I see an RC Cola, I make sure to get it even if it’s just to remember those summer nights of my childhood with my Dad, brother, and occasionally my cousin Brian or Uncle Eugene. The last time I saw RC Cola was in Iceland. During December in Iceland, you really need those memories.
In any event, I look forward to whatever comes along next. Whatever it will be, I’m sure my son will look back fondly at it one day as a reminder of all the times we spent at the park together.
I’m not watching the NFL today. The reason is plain and simple. I’m tired of them. On Friday, Deadspin released the photographs and documents establishing why Greg Hardy was suspended. ESPN had an Outside the Lines report on the same issue.
Yes, the NFL’s initial 10 game suspension was reduced after Hardy’s appeal. However, that’s not the issue. The issue is he was a free agent. The Cowboys were happy to sign him. He’s seen as a leader in the Cowboys’ locker room. That’s the thing, for all of their public contempt of him, the NFL wants him in the league. Just process that for a second. The NFL thinks it’s a better league with him in it.
Also, Jerry Jones comments about the photos ring hollow:
#Cowboys owner Jerry Jones released a statement on Greg Hardy saying they were aware of the seriousness of it all pic.twitter.com/2iUbV6Rnh9
— Ian Rapoport (@RapSheet) November 7, 2015
So what if you didn’t see the photos? How could you tell me you take the issue seriously when you signed him to a contract knowing there was a domestic violence issue? If Hardy broke a bone in the woman’s body, would that have gone too far?
Am I supposed to applaud you because you’re giving this creep a second chance? How about giving Joseph Randle a second shot? Oh wait, he stole underwear and mocked Dez Bryant. Seriously, in the NFL that is a worse offense than beating a woman. Smack a woman around, but don’t talk badly about Dez Bryant.
So I’m not watching today. I may not watch next week either. Seriously, at what point do we get up as a society and say this isn’t alright? I’m taking a small admittedly inconsequential stand today. I hope you join me because the NFL is not getting the message that hitting women and children is not alright.
There are few toys remaining from my parents’ generation that are still around today. One of them is the Wiffle Ball. That iconic yellow bat with the ball attached at the top. The ball sold separately with instructions on how to throw the curve and the slider. It’s one of the few toys that my father, my son, and I have all played with.
It’s more than that. It’s one of the few toys that young and old play with. You see it at tailgates. You see it in backyard BBQs. You see it at picnics. Oh, and everyone is great at it. Just ask them. They all have an unhittable pitch. For me, I go submarine when pitching.
All of this makes for an iconic toy. It’s a piece of America’s pastime. It’s as American as a slice of apple pie. However, it’s still not good enough for the National Toy Hall of Fame. With all due respect to the Supersoaker, you can’t have a National Toy Hall of Fame without the Wiffle Ball. It’s not possible. In my opinion, it would be the equivalent of what many people call a first ballot Hall of Famer.
So respected baseball people like Jonah Keri has his cause with Tim Raines. I now have mine. The Wiffle Ball belongs in the National Toy Hall of Fame.
Without a doubt, my favorite part of the 2015 season was seeing my son becoming more and more of a Mets fan.
It all started with that Spring Training game when he heard Gary Cohen make an excited call for a Lucas Duda RBI double. To my amazement, he screamed “Duda!” Soon, every night after his bath he wanted to watch Mets games with his daddy. We watched nearly every game together.
My wife and I got him his own tee-ball set. He worked on his swing. For some reason he prefers to bat left-handed. I think it’s because his favorite players are Duda and Daniel Murphy. Once the weather turned warmed we went to a few Mets games. It was at Citi Field, he learned how to hit a homerun.
We got to see Steven Matz‘s first major league game. We got to enjoy a game with the whole family. We were there on the last day of the season to celebrate the NL East Championship.
During the season, he would begin learning the names and positions of the different Mets players:
This was better than I ever could have imagined. In some ways, I actually started to think it was going to be different. You see since my son has been born everything has been better. For some reason I thought that would extend to the Mets as well.
As the playoffs started, it appeared that way. He loved all the Murphy homeruns. He would jump up and down screaming homerun. His excitement carried on even when he was at home watching the game with my wife. I really did thinks things were different.
They weren’t. As the top of the twelfth was unfolding it occurred to me. I was bringing my son into all of this. This was the reason a good friend of mine jokingly said he should turn me into Child Services for raising him a Mets fan.
I was taking the loss really hard. Then my son, who was asleep since the fourth inning, woke up and came over to me. He saw I was upset and said, “what happened?” I informed him the Mets were going to lose. He was defient. He said, “Murphy homerun! Duda homerun!” It was not so much a plea as it was a demand.
Unfortunately, Murphy and Duda were not due up, so they could not heed their orders. The World Series ended. Neither he nor I said a word. Instead, he just gave me a hug. He then laid down next to me and went to sleep. At that point, I wasn’t as angry. I wasn’t as upset. I was just a Dad in awe of his son.
It was at that point I realized I made the right decision in raising him to be a Mets fan. Being a Mets fan builds character. It’s not always easy being a Mets fan. You deal with tough times. Things don’t always go your way. That’s life.
The type of person you become is how you respond to these situations. So far, I like how my son responds. He tried to take control of the situation. When it didn’t work and things didn’t go our way, he gave me a hug.
The next morning he woke up early. As usual, he wanted three things: (1) milk; (2) Thomas; and (3) to talk about the Mets. I told him about the Curtis Granderson homerun. He always likes to hear about them. Instead of being upset when I talked about the game, I chuckled. (Trust me, I would get angry again on the way to work). It reminded me of something my Dad once said to me, “I only have myself to blame.”
I’ve created a Mets fan. I’m sorry the Mets lost the World Series. I’m sorry for my Dad, my brother, and myself. I’m sorry fur my son. However, I’m not sorry I made him a Mets fan.
He loves the Mets. He has now experienced the losing. When the Mets finally win another World Series, it will be all the more enjoyable for him.
Lets Go Mets!
Last night I was lucky enough to go to Game 3, but I wasn’t able to take my son. However, because he is a huge Mets fan, and he has an awesome Mommy, he watched the game.
Here is the Curtis Granderson homerun as shown as TV:
Here’s Jerry Seinfeld and Chris Rock’s reaction:
Here’s my son’s:
I couldn’t be more proud.
LETS GO METS!
Well, I won and lost in the selection of the Halloween costume. I wanted to dress my son up in a Mets jersey with the hammer. My wife said no one would get it. I didn’t care. I thought Thor would’ve been an awesome costume. She works with too many Yankee fans because none of them got it, and I lost.
Instead, he was Yoda. Well, he was Yoda until he got tired of the hat. He then became either Luke Skywalker or a generic Jedi depending on your point of view. He was adorable, and he loved Trick or Treating. We went to five different spots. At each spot, I was stopped several times.
I can’t tell you how many people thanked me for the wisdom, insight, and at times, humor on the site. No I’m kidding. People saw the Mets hat and would say things like “Lets Go Mets,” “We’re Mets fans too,” or”How do you think we’ll do tonight?” There were some high fives and head nods.
There was one idiot in a Yankee cap who said there’s another bandwagon Mets fan referencing in my new World Series fleece. Apparently, he didn’t think I could hear him. He had no answer when I asked him who Gene Michael is. He chuckled and said, “See, there’s no one named Gene Michael on the Mets.” Yup.
Anyway, today was awesome. The candy haul was great. There was so much my son was dragging his pail on the ground. There’s more than he could eat. Guess I’ll just have to help him out. ; )
It was also great to see so many people interested in the Mets. The perfect way to cap off today is a win.
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!
My son woke up this morning, and said to me, “Mets?” I said not now. It’ll be on tonight. His next said to me, “Murphy homerun!” If I wasn’t excited enough, I became more excited. This was a very good sign. We sang “Meet the Mets” in the car this morning. It’s funny, he’s only lived in a world where the Mets are good. These are wonderful times indeed.
This has all gotten my wife excited. She sees what it means to me. She knows how much our son loves baseball. She comes from a family that never followed sports. Now, she’s correcting people at work about baseball. She actually referenced my blog in correcting someone spewing garbage about the layoff. It’s no wonder I tell her everyday she’s perfect.
My Dad, the reason, I’m a Mets fan is more excited about the Mets than I’ve ever seen him. He’s an original vendor at Shea Stadium. He lived through 1969 and 1986. He’s more excited than that. I get daily “Lets Go Mets” and “Going to Kansas City” texts. I want this for him more than anyone else.
My brother made sure to get his postseason hat as the postseason began. It is a tradition we started at Game 5 of the 1999 NLDS. We used to call it “the hat.” It was good luck. Then the Mets lost the final game in 2007 and 2008. Once Robin Ventura autographed the hat two years ago, it went into retirement. He’s got his new hat, and he’s convinced the Mets are winning the World Series this year.
Me? This has been better than I ever could’ve imagined. I had no grandfathers when the 1986 Mets won, not that I remember it anyway. When the Mets were in the 2000 World Series happened, I was away at college in Western New York. If they were interested in baseball they were Yankees, Blue Jays, or Braves fans. I was alone.
This year I’ve watched nearly every game with my son. I’ve been able to go to games with him, my Dad, and brother. We will all be going to Game Three together (weather permitting for the little guy). I could never imagine watching a Mets World Series game with my Dad, my brother, and my son. It really doesn’t get any better than that.
This is what baseball is. It’s fathers and sons. It’s your family getting together and sharing the experience. It’s sitting there recalling games and moments past. I’m going to be there with my father and son. I will be there with my brother. These are the Mets fans I care about most. I owe a debt of gratitude to the 2015 Mets for making this happen.
Lets Go Mets!
When the Mets went to the 2000 World Series, I was jumping up and down alone in my dorm room. Not many Mets fans in Western New York.
When the Mets won the 2006 NLDS, I was at a bar down the road from my apartment. My brother and I ran down there after the end of the seventh inning. I remember the bar erupting, and people spraying beer all over like it was the locker room. It was awesome.
Last night, I woke my 22 month old so up to see the final out. I had a much ore romantic idea of what was going to happen. We were going to cheer and high five. We would then call my Dad and brother. Instead, he watched the last out and got really, really cranky. While I was over the moon, I was trying to get a cranky kid back to bed.
Once I accomplished that, I went downstairs, and I talked to my Dad and brother in hushed tones. They’re excited and talking loud. I’m talking in a loud whisper. I then went back to bed and watched all of the postgame coverage.
Side note: as I noted in an earlier post, my son has been on the money in his predictions. I’ve been keeping him up later with the playoffs. When Lucas Duda came up, he said, “Duda homerun!” We know what happened next:
Right after the homerun, my Dad texted me “J4 called that for Duda?” When I replied he did, his next text was, “Tell him to keep it up and speak for Wright.” I’m trying folks.
This morning, my son didn’t want to get out of bed. He was tired. I wonder why? When he woke up, he said to me, “Mets HOMERUN!” It certainly was. It was the celebration I was looking forward to last night. It’s okay that I had to wait for it.
Now, I just need to follow my Dad’s request and get him to predict a homerun for Wright.