It's been a weird week, hence the lack of posts, but I couldn't let an off day go without getting a podcast in. Mike Lecolant joined me, along with author Matt Silverman (New York Mets: The Complete Illustrated Historyand 100 Things Mets Fans Should Know and Do Before They Die) and Rich Sparago in the latter half of the show. We talked about the recent road trip, Dillon Gee's workhorse nature, the 1969 New York Mets squad, Matt's books, Shea Stadium and its 50th Anniversary yesterday, Anthony Recker "cashing in for his backup catcher union card", Gene Mauch... and many many other Metsian items of interest.
Happy to have games back in Queens, and ones that celebrate at the Shea-tastic price of $3.50 (well...plus those online fees, but still, much much cheaper. That would be very SHEA of them to remove the fees, but I understand there's some annoying web code to be written to get what is usually there out of there. Yeah. 1964 it ain't.)
It's clearly redundant to say, but they HAVE to start winning at home if they are to take the next step. Why since 2011 they have sucked at home and done what winning teams do on the road, which is go .500 or one better, I have no idea. No idea why where they should feel more comfortable they have not and lost. But it has to change. Maybe celebrating some Mets history will bring some relaxation and get us some W's against the Braves, the Cardinals or the Marlins!
Enjoy the weekend, folks. MAKE IT OUT TO THE METS AT WILLETS POINT!!!
CITY. BASEBALL.
LET'S. GO. METS.
Online Sports Radio at Blog Talk Radio with Rising Apple Report on BlogTalkRadio
Once upon a time, I babysat a 3-year-old kid named Hazen. His family lived around the corner from me in Hell's Kitchen, and his regular babysitter was unavailable for the evening. In the only time I watched the child, I saw one who loved life and loved the joys of being alive. We played with blocks, we ran around the apartment, we had a blast enjoying and exploring his living environment. I don't have a single memory of Hazen without a smile on his face.
This world is cruel, and unfortunately for the kid and everyone who knew him, Hazen developed neuroblastoma, a deadly childhood cancer, soon after we met. He passed at the much too young age of 5. Scott Kennedy, Hazen's father, has since devoted his life to cancer research, uniting with another stricken family to form "Solving Kids' Cancer", one of the charities behind Sunday night's Ike Davis event.
"Solving Kids' Cancer was born out of two families in NYC coming together
to create a new model charity," Scott says. "The passion was to make sure that no
other families would have to go through what we went through. Both
familes lost young children to (the deadly disease)...Hazen age 5, Penelope age 4. Solving Kids' Cancer is a
results-oriented organization that tackles the biggest challenges in
childhood cancer research. In the 5-years of operating, we have
introduced 14 new experimental treatments for children with cancer."
The energy that is Hazen can clearly be seen when Scott speaks of his boy and the passion he had for what life has to offer, including the baseball team we all know and love.
"Hazen was and is gifted as a human being and lived as complete a
5-year life as one could ever imagine. He knew how to accept and give
love throughout his entire life. Even before he became a cancer kid at
age 3, his mom & I would get ready for sleep and pinch each other
saying, 'Can you believe he is our child?' He would amaze us and thus he
adopted the name Amazin' Hazen before, during and after being a cancer
kid. Hazen laughed passionately and knew how to make others laugh
(easily). On playdates with other kids and parents, often the other
parents would end up hanging out with Hazen because he was such a joy to
have in their presence.
"He was gifted at many things - playing board games, solving
puzzles, math, music, running and being social. He was the class clown
in preschool. Hazen became a Mets fan at age 3. He went to Shea his
first time and walked into the seats just as David Wright lined a double
like a laser right between left and center. From then on, Wright was
his favorite. Hazen went to 6 Mets games in his life and learned to
keep score. He loved Jose Reyes because he was fast. Hazen wore his
Mets hat every day but ironically had a Robinson Cano autograph on the
inside of his bill (he met Canoe at Sloan Kettering). Hazen is all
about love and his life force infuses every cell of my body and numerous
other people he has touched. His dream was to become a scientist so
that he could discover something that would help kids live."
Ike Davis unfortunately lost a dear friend and college teammate to sarcoma, another deadly childhood cancer, and has united with Solving Kids' Cancer to help further research along.
"Ike aligned with us because he is passionate about helping the cause of
childhood cancer...We are in awe of Ike because
he walks-the-walk. He takes action and has been associated with our
charity going on 3 years now. Both Solving Kids' Cancer and Ike were
rookies when we joined forces and that is something special. We hope
the Night with Ike and the other 13 Mets is all about fun and
celebration. And of course, raising a lot of money for childhood cancer
research."
"A Night with Ike Davis" will include a performance by Lee Brice, with Ike and some of his teammates guest bartending. I will be there helping out with the event as well. It will most assuredly be a fantastic evening. If you can join us, there are still tickets available. Please go to the website and purchase one. If you cannot be there, you can still make a pledge by tipping your favorite bartender (Ike, Lee Brice, or Justin Turner), or text "IKE" to 32020 to donate $10. Please visit the website to check out every way you can help out (The Liddy Shriver Sarcoma Initiative is involved in the event as well.)
Whatever can be contributed will be greatly appreciated.
Cancer is painful no matter what the age of the victim. There is certainly no reason, though, that a child like Hazen should have life taken away at such an early age. Research is getting better and better and every penny counts.
It's easy to poke fun at a sentence like that, and many people have poked fun at that type of sentimentality. "If I'm going to die one day, why waste my time on the Mets? And why waste my time on something like baseball? Why bother with sports in general? Doesn't it just add unnecessary stress?" The last one I have thought about, especially standing in the upper deck while the Mets have loaded the bases, still an out away from having the rally be for naught. Had Daniel Murphy not gotten the tying hit, had David Wright not gotten the winning one, had the entire thing been for naught the way it was a night later against the Cubs, I still would have sat there, looking out at the baseball diamond thinking it's the most beautiful image in the world, knowing that win or lose, I had fun.
'Cause this is what we signed up for. This is why we love this team, and this is why we love this game. How much sweeter is 2012 after having gone through 2006 to 2010? (How much sweeter was the no-hitter having gone through 50 years of 1-hitters?) Every time the Mets have won a ring, they came from outta nowhere. From 2006-2009, they were the "team to beat"... and people beat them. "You Gotta Believe" is the identity of this franchise. We want them to be consistent and they appear to be on their way, from changing "You Gotta Believe" into "Believe it," but nobody ever picked the Mets to win the World Series, or even go to one, at the beginning of the seasons they have won it or have gone there. And the year people probably did pick them to at least make it to the World Series, they had to pull off one of the greatest comebacks in the history of sports to win the trophy. That appears to be the narrative of this franchise. And I love watching it day in and day out.
I believe in the spirituality of baseball. I do not follow a religion (I identify myself culturally as Jewish), though I find God in my own particular ways, one being through the sanctuaries that house the diamonds. Baseball unfolds as life does in front of us, and we bend the happenings to fit into a particular narrative we believe we see unfolding, or we want to see unfolding. That is how the Curse of the Bambino was written. And while we have our role in the scripture, other outside forces, whether just luck or happenstance, add to the mystic nature of the game: Babe Ruth gets traded, Bucky Dent cracks a homer, Bill Buckner let's it get away, Bernie Williams walks off in game 1, and Aaron Boone wins it off the Knuckler. After A-Rod gets traded to the Yankees (changing his number from 3 to 13 because a certain Yankees' retired digits), the Letter B starts coming through for the Red Sox instead of against them mid-series. All of a sudden, Mark Bellhorn starts getting big hits for the Sox, and 86 years of momentum shifts, leading the Red Sox to beat the Yankees in game 7 at the stroke of midnight (clearly Bellhorn was not the only player factor...I'm just sayin'...The B's!) They have to take on a franchise in the Cardinals who beat them in 7 games TWICE. This time, however, the Red Sox sweep them in 4 games. The last out they need is in the form of Number 3 Edgar Rentaria, and once they get Number 3 out, the Curse of Number 3 will be lifted underneath a full, red harvest moon in St. Louis. This is the type of stuff we writers are supposed to come up with. But there is no way to fix THAT type of narrative.
A spiritual interpretation can be found through a happening in this current Mets season as well. At the beginning of the year, the catcher of the last Mets World Championship passed what felt like much too soon. At the end of Johan's no-hitter, the Mets had 8 hits and 8 runs, and some guy in a Number 8 Carter jersey felt inclined to run out onto the field to join in the celebration. Call it a coincidence, call it whatever you want, but the idea there is something else to it just makes me smile. It adds to the intrigue. It makes me smile that for as long as humans exist and, in turn, as long as humans follow the game and the New York National League Baseball Fans follow the Mets, a Gary Carter Number 8 Jersey will be in the celebration images of a game that lifted a huge burden off every individual attached to this team. What's wrong with thinking Gary Carter's spirit helped them along like Angels in the Outfield? It adds to the smile (and the hope of something else after this world.)
I love baseball. I love the way the field sprawls out in front of me when I'm right behind home plate. I love the layout of the players on the field. I love the smoothness of the game. The way the ground ball goes into the shortstop's glove and the rhythm in which he gathers it and throws to get the runner by a millisecond. I love how majestic the game looks, whether it be the turning of a double play or the simple swing of a bat. The way an outfielder times his jump perfectly to come together with the ball just when the ball was going to come together with the other side of the wall. I love every aspect of this game, and I love that I was destined to root for the Metsies. If they don't win, it's a low-down shame.
I love the New York Mets. I love hearing about Bud Harrelson and Cleon Jones, and how Gil Hodges turned all those boys into men who can compete. I love Todd Pratt's home run and Robin Ventura's home run, and Piazza's home run and Agbayani's home run. And Endy's catch (in the moment it happened.) I love the New Mets. I love the bad Mets. I love that I'll know who Omar Quintanilla is in 20 years. I love this franchise, I love that baseball is the thing I have decided to surround myself with in my life, and I love the 2012 New York Mets.
The Mets could win it all this year. They could win it all next year, they might never win it all again (with the definition of "never" varying depending on the life-span of each individual.) Regardless, the Mets and players such as RA Dickey have taught me to take everything in stride. To learn from your mistakes. Grow from the moments perceived as failures. If you have patience, hard work and dedication, good things will happen. Be humble. Don't celebrate before it's over (like the Red Sox of '86 were doing in the visiting dugout of Shea.)
I'm not sure how my story, your story, the human story or the Orange and Blue story will end. And uncertainty brews fear. But however it goes, I know I'm going to have a whole lotta fun watching baseball and the Mets from now until then.
And hopefully, more often than not, the images we see resemble the image below.
