IV
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.
As you may or may not know, the original plans for Citi Field included a retractable roof like the one in Toronto and Houston. I thought about that as I sat in the cold on Saturday.
It meant I was cold. It meant I couldn’t bring my son with me. It meant that the Mets would’ve lost a big aspect of their homefield advantage. This is a team built on pitching as good Mets teams traditionally have. In the cold October weather, that advantage becomes even greater because the ball doesn’t travel as far. If the Mets had a retractable roof, part of that advantage would’ve been taken away.
Major League Baseball controls whether the roof is open or closed in the postseason. In these playoffs, they closed the roof on a 54 degree day with no threat of rain. They play in worse weather in April. They play in words weather in important September games. They played in worse weather for Games One and Two of the NLCS.
The ultimate purpose of the dome is to prevent rain outs and delays. If teams want to close the dome for their fans’ comfort, it’s their prerogative for 162 games. A team makes the playoffs and all of a sudden MLB takes control. What’s the point of earning homefield advantage if a large part of it is taken from you.
So yes, I was disappointed I had to leave my son home. I’m still hoping I can take him to the World Series. I’m still hoping I can watch the Mets win the World Series with him. Citi Field not having a retractable roof will help that.
When my son woke up Saturday morning, all he wanted to do was talk baseball. He was excited for the game that night. I still feel bad I couldn’t take him (it was too cold).
Anyway, I asked him what he thought was going to happen during the game. He told me “Murphy homerun”
I asked him about Wright. His response was “No!” Duda? “No!” Murphy? “Homerun, yay!” I asked him what else was going to happen. His response was “Harvey pitch.” Pitch he did:
My son took his ever growing baseball knowledge and let me know what was going to happen. On Sunday, he wanted to make signs for the next Mets game.
The thing is I don’t have tickets for another game until Game Three of the World Series. Once again, he just might know something that I don’t know.
This kid is a baseball genius.
I’m going to the Mets game tonight with my Dad and brother just as I always have. Starting last year, we started bringing my son to games with us. I’m not bringing him tonight, and I’m going to miss him.
He loves Citi Field. He loves the mini-baseball field. He loves Mr. Met. He actually sits and watches the games there. If I stayed he tonight, he would have watched the game with me all excited until he couldn’t anymore. Unfortunately, I’m not going to see the game with him. It’s not going to be the same.
However, I decided I couldn’t bring him. The game is too late. I usually get tickets by the Fan Fest area so we can go back there to see Mr. Met and run around a bit. I’m in the right field promenade today. It’s too far to shuttle back and forth. Also, it’s going to be cold and windy up there. I don’t want him cold and tired all night.
So I’m going to go to the game tonight. I’ll miss him. I’ll feel guilty. However, I can’t wait to be at the game tonight. I’ll have to get him a souvenir just to remove some of the guilt. Perhaps I’ll get him some NLCS stuff.
By the way, I should say here my wife is amazing. After a hard day of work, she’s going to take care of our very energetic son tonight by herself. I don’t say it enough, but she’s an incredible woman, and I’m lucky to have her. I’ll miss you too honey.
Game One of the 1999 NLDS was a bittersweet moment. The Mets were in the playoffs. I was excited because the Mets were in the playoffs. However, I was watching the game without my Dad and brother because I was in college and my brother was still in high school.
I remember that game running late. I remember my roommate being really irked when my Dad called during the game. My roommate had an early class. I went into the hallway to talk to my Dad in a hushed voice to celebrate. The situation would be he same in 2000, but this time nothing would feel quite as new.
In 2006, I was out of school and living on my own. I still didn’t have text messaging, but I had a blackberry. I remember having a network of Mets fans that would be on the same email chain. Basically, the emails would look like Twitter, but with good hearted ribbing. The only one I talked on the phone with was my Dad because he wasn’t up on all that technology.
Last night was a completely different experience. I had a son that tried his hardest to stay up and watch the game. He fell asleep right before the first pitch. He would wake up later in the game when I let out a huge cheer after the David Wright RBI single. At that moment, my parental instincts were in direct conflict with my Mets fandom. I eventually rationalized that he wouldn’t remember this game, and I got him back to sleep.
As for my Dad, we were text messaging during the game. It was great because I was able to talk to him during the game without waking up a sleeping baby. In 1999, 2000, and 2006, I really couldn’t talk to him throughout the game. In 2015, I could.
This is when technology is great. It allowed my Dad, brother, and I to talk about the Mets even thoughts we were in three different locations. It doesn’t beat sitting there and watching the game with him, but it is still good. I hope to get together with him to watch some games as the first pitch times get a little earlier.
Even if they don’t, I will still be able to talk to him throughout the game.
On the last game of the season, the Mets had a young kid came up to help them. They needed him after losing six straight and getting no hit. Before entering the ballpark, he visited the bricks to remind himself of who he was playing for:
He had a pregame meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Met to get prepare:
Mr. Met would be with him the entire game:
With shades of Sidd Finch, he would eschew the traditional uniform. He would wear his lucky hat:
He waited for his moment, and then he got to the plate. He took two mighty swings, but the third time was the charm:
The ball didn’t quite make it out of the park, so he would have to hustle to give the Mets a shot to win:
AN INSIDE THE PARK HOMERUN! His hit would help the Mets win 1-0 and secure 90 wins en route to the division series. After the game, he would be carried across the Shea Bridge on his biggest fan’sshoulders as he celebrated with Mets fans:
Congrats on a great season. I can’t wait for the playoffs. Lets Go Mets!
In actuality, these tickets were a birthday gift from my wife and son. My wife said she might be getting me tickets, and I requested a Sunday game so I might be able to bring my son into the field for the Mr. Met Dash.
I’m happy she picked the last game of the season. Tomorrow, I get to go to Citi Field and salute the improbable 2015 NL East Champions. Even after an ugly loss, the mood should still be jubilant. This team should be saluted for an incredible season. I’m happy that I’ll be able to get this snapshot to remember this year by.
The problem is that unless the Mets win the World Series, their year will end on a down note. I remember 1999 for the Kenny Rogers‘ walk. I remember 2000 for Timo Perez not running, Roger Clemens‘ [alleged] roid rage, and a Mike Piazza ball that did not travel quite far enough. I remember 2006 for the Adam Wainwright curveball.
It’s a shame because those were terrific Mets seasons. What they did is no small feat, especially for a franchise that has gone to the playoffs eight times in 53 years. I want to remember 2015 for more than just how the season ends, even if the Mets win the World Series.
There was the 11 game winning streak. There was the return of Matt Harvey from Tommy John surgery. There was the deGrominance of Jacob deGrom including his amazing All Star Game appearance. There was the amazing rookies seasons of Noah Syndergaard and Michael Conforto. There was “A Cespedes for the Rest of Us.” There was the David Wright homerun on his return from spinal stenosis.
On a personal note, it’s the year I finally came to love Citi Field. I brought my son to a few games. He got to meet Mr. Met TWICE! He got to play baseball. He had Shake Shack. He learned the Mets lineup. He watched games with me. He saw the Mets celebrate a division title. I may have loved the 1999 and 2006 teams more, but this has been my favorite season.
The Mets had a lot to do with it by winning. However, to me, this year has been about my son and I bonding over baseball. It started with a Spring Training Game with him imitating Gary Cohen’s excited, “LUCAS DUDA!” call. He’s learning the game. He loves the Mets.
I want to go to the game to celebrate all of that. The icing on the cake would be if we can run the bases. I know he will love it much like he loved this season. This is the last game of the year we can go to and just enjoy the day. We’re going to. I hope you will too. It was a great season.
Lets Go Mets!
It’s going to be a rainy weekend at Citi Field. If you’re like me, and you’re bringing the little guy, or gal, it means you have to be prepared.
First things, first, come prepared. If you have a water coat and the like, dress your child in them. Keep an extra set in a tightly sealed ziplock. Also, keep a set of dry clothes in the trunk of your car.
Second, stake your ground. Every seat now comes with some sort of club access. If you’re traveling with another adult, you can alternate holding the spot and running around with the kid. If there’s no room in a club, try to sit in a covered spot.
Third, eat your food early. If your brought it with you, eat it immediately. There’s nothing worse than a soggy sandwich. If you’re planning out eating at the park, eat immediately. There’s going to be water everywhere. You’ll enjoy it more if you eat it on a dry surface.
Overall, going to a game in the rain can be a lot of fun. I know my son had a blast when it happened to us earlier in the year. He loved running all over the ballpark with the puddles. The lines for Mr.Met, the ball field, and the dunk tank were short. The food and bathroom lines were as well.
I hope you find this information helpful. I hope you enjoy saluting the 2015 NL East Champion Mets when they come home.
Lets Go Mets!
After the Mets clinched, I didn’t immediately write about what it meant to me. I wrote what it meant to the Mets. I wanted to process my feelings fully before putting my thoughts to paper (or fingers to keyboard).
Somewhere in my house, I still have my 2006, 2007, and 2008 World Series tickets. I was there for the final game of the season. These tickets depress me because they are reminders of the times I could’ve gone to a World Series game with my Dad. He’s the reason I’m a Mets fan. He’s the reason I’m the man I am. He’s never gone to a Mets World Series game.
Judge me if you will, but winning the World Series is secondary to going to a World Series game with my Dad. Personally, I don’t think it makes me s bad Mets fan or anything less than the diehard I am. It’s about sharing a moment withy Dad. I don’t remember it, but I know we celebrated 1986 together, or so I’m told. He has that memory. I want him to have another.
Sure, I’ll be depressed if they lose. When the Mets lost to the Yankees in 2000, I actually had family members calling me to make sure I was alright. I just remember watching the highlights all night. It was like a train wreck. I just couldn’t look away. On a side note, it was on that night I developed an irrational hatred of Edwin McCain and his awful song “I Could Not Ask for More.”
If the Mets don’t make it this year, I won’t be as upset as I was in 2006 -2008. The reason is because I got to celebrate it with my son. It quickly became my favorite baseball memory. The only thing that will top it is if I get to go to Game Three of the World Series this year. We got the tickets.
Trust me, it wasn’t an easy decision. A lot of thought went into it. I know my Dad wanted to go do it (for the right price) after going to a Mets game with my son this year. My Dad was just amazed at how a kid that’s always on the go-go-go eagerly sits down to watch a Mets game. I am too. After all other options were exhausted we hit the secondary market a while ago and eventually found tickets at an acceptable price.
We chose Game Three for a few reasons. First, if the Mets make it, the game is guaranteed. Second, my Dad loves the player introductions. He still laughs at the fans chanting “SUCKS!” after each Cardinals player introduced in the 2006 NLCS. Finally, Game Three is going to be the first ever World Series game at Citi Field.
My Dad and I laugh at the prospect of going to a World Series game with my son. He will be 68. I will be 35. My brother will be 33. My son will turn two at the end of the month. Maybe it’s a sign my son will experience more winning than the three of us had. I know that I’m getting ahead of myself.
I hope the Mets make it that far. I want to be there with my Dad, brother, and son. It’s the only thing that will top the feeling I had on Saturday.