"Why We Do This"

(PUBLISHED IN "AM-NEW YORK" - October, 2006)


After missing out on the first Mets’ playoff ticket lottery, I was getting a second crack at it.

Following the Mets.com e-mail instructions I planted myself in front of my computer the next day at precisely 12:00 PM EST. The Mets.com server – overwhelmed – planted me in what they called a “virtual waiting room.”

“60…59…58…” My eyes fixed on the numbers as they counted down.

“43…42…41…” As the clock ticked, I waited … and watched … for over an hour and a half.

I called my brother to relay the bad news.

“Why the hell am I even doing this!? There’s no …”

“Think of it this way,” he said. “You won this lottery so you could be reminded each minute, for 90 straight minutes, that you have absolutely no shot at getting tickets!!”

We laughed hard and, as I hung up the phone and minimized the Mets.com screen, I couldn’t help but think again, “Why am I doing this?”

I leaned back in my chair and smiled.

I thought back to last Spring. After a hot-stove league filled with rumors, trades and then more rumors and trades, Omar Minaya and company had put the finishing touches on the “New Mets”, as Carlos Beltran branded them. Clearly, this team was different. Something had shifted.

So much so, that after 45 years of being a passionate baseball and Mets’ fan and attending some of the franchise’s most memorable games, I decided that April 3, 2006 was going to be my very first opening day. (See The New York Daily News, April 2, 2006 – “It’s Early, & They’re Batting 1.000”). Like many fans, I was sensing something special. It was hard to ignore the buzz.

“We’ve never seen anything like this!!” my brother shouted as we locked hands in a double high five after watching (and hearing) Billy Wagner’s very first 95 mph-plus pitch slam into Paul LoDuca’s mitt on opening day.

For us, that was the moment.
It was confirmed.
This team meant business.

Night after night, day after day, it’s been fun watching this group learn how to win; watching them rebound after crushing defeats and come from behind to pull out seemingly un-winnable games. And, finally, after years of sheer torture, this Mets’ team has learned how to secure one-run leads in the ninth, thanks to that Wagner fellow.

Sure, the essential skills are there. Three guys in the 100-plus RBI club; a leadoff .300 hitter with 60 steals, 17 triples and 310 total bases. My brother was right, Mets’ fans have “never seen anything like this.” And whereas this bunch has maneuvered through those requisite off-field challenges, things like taxi crashes, blood clots, sore toes, calves and Achilles tendons, something else has been revealed as the season’s unfolded. Something less conspicuous but very powerful. You see it every time Jose Reyes and Carlos Delgado do their little cha-cha on the dugout steps. The ear-to-ear smiles, hugs, pats on the back, the joking around. It’s a closeness that simply can’t be faked; an energy that makes us feel terrific as we watch from the sidelines.

And at a time when much of our news is loaded with sadness and tension, feeling terrific is the way to go as far as I’m concerned.

So, okay. Now what?

Well, my guess is it’s time to “fasten your seatbelts,” as Bob Murphy used to say. Something tells me we’re in for some exciting (and tense) moments.

And, oh, by the way – the lottery? After two hours, I was out of the virtual waiting room and on my way to the playoffs. High altitude seats, to be sure. But, I’ll be there with my brother and friends. And we’ll be smiling with Jose and company.

No matter what happens, it’s a great time to be a Mets’ fan.