Where does the good go


My love of the Mets started humbly enough — listening to the games on the radio or having the game going on my mom’s old TV, the one that was color, but had dials and rabbit ears, while I did my homework on a Saturday afternoon.

I never got to go to a baseball game until my early twenties and then it was a firmwide trip to Yankee stadium. I booed the home team and cheered vociferously when they lost.

A few weeks later, in mid-June of 1999, I went to my first Mets game. AND THEY WON! I went to five more games that summer, using my firm’s fancy box seats, and the New York Metropolitans won them all. I wouldn’t get back to Shea for another two years, but they won all the 2001 games I watched too. I still didn’t really think anything of it till I went to one of the subway series’ games at Yankee stadium in, I think, 2006. It was crazy and I don’t know how, but the Mets won in the Bronx 2-1! I chanted “scooorreeebbooaarrrdd,” the whole way back home at my carload of Yankees fans.

Could it be… dare I even think it…

Then in 2007, I went down to Philadelphia to see the Amazins play the Phillies. I crossed my fingers and shut my eyes real tight “no whammy, no whammy…” NO WHAMMY! THE METS WON AGAIN! I danced around and pointed and laughed at my Phillies fan friends. I was unstoppable. Sadly, I’m also poor. Last year, I only made it to one game in the new stadium– but the Mets won it. This year I had high hopes to make it to a bunch of games, but my work schedule more or less strangled those hopes in their sleep. So when Alceste emailed a few days ago to say that new Aunt Dawn 2 (congrats!) would be attending her nephew’s bris, so he had an extra ticket to the Braves/Mets game, I was ecstatic!

Thunderstorms were forecast and I couldn’t find my David Wright jersey OR my favorite Mets t-shirt, but I still looked forward to good luck charming my guys to a victory over the dreaded racist Atlanta Braves. Alceste and I agreed to meet for an early dinner before the game. He totally tried to get me to miss the game by giving me terrible directions to the imaginary restaurant. RUDE. I found him ANYWAY! SO THERE!

Citifield was giving away awesome Mets sports bags at the stadium, so this was already a banner day! I didn’t want to do anything rash about my missing Wright jersey, so I told Alceste that he was not to allow me to buy anything at the Mets store…no matter how many runs we beat the Braves by. He laughed in my face. #DOUBLERUDE

As soon as we took our seats, it started to pour. Awesome. We passed the time taking crappy pictures and watching the retrospective of the ’86 World Series playing on the big screen. About 70 minutes after the scheduled start time, the game officially began.

Five minutes into the game, Justin Turner hits a home run! YAAAYYYY!!!!

Alceste makes a comment about the apple that pops up when a Mets guy hits a homer and I’m all bummed.

“Wait..what apple?! I didn’t see an apple! I WAANNNAA SEEE THHEEE APPPLLEEEE.” Instead, the Mets guys just hit a bunch of singles and doubles and stuff and end up entering the second inning with a 2 run lead. I’m feeling good!

And then disaster strikes…horrible terrible badness of bases loaded, no Braves outness. I cry. Atlanta empties those bases AND THEN SOME! Duda drops a ball that not only should he have caught, BUT THAT HE DID CATCH, turning an out into a triple. I cry, gnash my teeth and scream to the heavens. “WHHHYYY GOOODDD WHHYYY?”

The fourth inning began with the Braves up 5-2 and my streak looking decidedly over.


“Well, they have the second best record in the National League,” Alceste deadpans.

“I will cut you.”

I was hungry and thinking about going to walk around looking for food rather than watch the rest of this debacle. Instead…I stayed. AND BOY AM I GLAD I DID!

No outs, guy on first, Jason Bay — who is usually an epic disappointment — knocks one out the park to get us within one run. Then the Atlanta pitcher loads up the bases and Reyes brings in the tying run! They’re BACK BABY! AND I GOT TO SEE THE APPLE!

Atlanta takes the lead again briefly in the seventh, but then the Mets go all Mike Tyson on their asses and rain down hits! Mets are up by two! Alceste applauds!

“HA! You’ve come around! You can no longer abide all the racism and now you love the Mets!”
“No, that was a good hit and smart baserunning. I’m applauding that.”


I do not understand why Alceste does not get how this works. Your team does something awesome, you cheer. The other team does something awesome, you cry. GOOD LORD, MAN!

OH! AND THHEEENNN… so you know how they shoot t-shirts up in the stands? Well, the Pepsi Party Patrol guy came up to our section and started throwing t-shirts. I was eating, so my hands were covered in ketchup and whatnot…plus, I am like two feet tall, so whatever, no shirt for me. BUT ALCESTE, the giant, snatches a shirt right out of the air…it was actually pretty hilarious and he’s about to give it to me, but my hands are all dirty, so he puts it on his chair. THEN like two minutes later, he decides he is going to give it to the little boy next to me instead. I practically tackled him, but he just gave it to the kid’s dad over my wee, teeny head.

I immediately went to tell twitter about how racist Alceste is and he simply goes “I shake my head in advance about whatever you’re about to tweet.”

I glare in his general direction. OH and this coming from a guy who started singing a “kill all the children” song in the middle of the game! Yah. THAT GUY is shaking his head at ME! I like kids and all, but the t-shirts are not kids shirts AND he and his dad totally left the game right after that! Quitters.

Ahem…so..where was I? Oh yeah, the Mets are being all amazing and TURNER HITS ANOTHER HOME RUN! I’m full on doing the wop in the stands!


The Braves bring out some guy in the bottom of the eighth and Alceste goes “well, they’ve conceded the game,” sure enough the Mets hit ANOTHER HOMERUN! I laugh and say well, as long as the Mets don’t put in Acosta, we’ll be in good shape.


Acosta comes in at the top of ninth. I cover my face. I know we’re going to win, because I’m in the stadium, after all, but I know it’s going to be ugly. Acosta promptly gives up a homerun with his second pitch. *Headdesk.*

We survive the inning and the METS WIN! I do the robot to celebrate. Alceste ignores my taunting. Jerkwad.

Hopefully, I get to go to the game tomorrow. BJs had a promotion that you could exchange your ticket from Saturdays awesomesauce game for 2 tickets to a future game. I will spare yall the details of my quest to collect on that deal, suffice to say, I am now in possession of tickets to Tuesday’s game in super craptacular seats.


6 Responses to “Amazin’”

  1. Dr. Shady Says:

    Hi. I think you should take a look at this. It will all make sense… i promise.

    No need to thank me. You’re always welcome.

    Smooches! xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

    Eyebee Shadiness, Phd.

  2. Yigal Says:


  3. Alceste Says:

    I was just glad our seats were covered. And you left out the fact that the kid had a shirt in his hand, dropped it, had it snatched by some 40-year old dude, and looked positively crushed. (Also, the one time I show a little bit of heart, I get the head shake. Back to all bastard, all the time…)

  4. Dawn Summers Says:

    HAHAHA I didn’t see the shirt drop… but still. Children need to learn early, the world is a cold, hard place.

  5. Pearatty Says:

    Aw, Alceste, that’s so sweet.

  6. dawn Says:

    Shut it, pearatty. That shirt was MINE!

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