God Bless the Mets

My brother and I went to the game 2 last week against the Dodgers. It was a blast. Tonight, on to the Cardinals. I’m in a meeting tonight but I’ll be keeping track of the game via MLB.com’s GameDay – it is one of the coolest things ever. I always use it – even if I’m watching the game on TV. GameDay is incredible and very cool and I wish there was a GameDay for my cell phone.

I love the Mets. It goes back to some of my earliest memories. I remember 1986 vividly, the first World Series where I really paid attention. And I remember my mother making me go to bed before the game was over, and then my father coming and waking me up and taking me down to the basement to watch Ray Knight bring it home for the tie-breaking homerun in Game 7. To this day I can recite every player on the 1986 Mets rooster: Keith Hernandez, Tim Teufel, Rafael Santana, Ray Knight, Lenny Dykstra, Darryl Strawberry, George Foster, Gary Carter, and Doc Gooden, Bobby O, Ron Darling, Sid Fernandez. It’s amazing how their names were seared into my head in the 4th grade.

I love the Mets. And now, twenty years after the 86 World Series, they’ve got a shot again, and I am pulling out the stops. Every lucky thing I can think of, every saint that I can possibly pray to, my most superstitious self is manifesting. Let’s Go Mets! (Jose, Jose, Jose, Jose… Jose… Jose!)

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