After Terry Pendleton’s home run in 1987, I asked my father if the Mets won. I did the same thing following Game 7 of the 1988 NLCS. I was barely school age and didn’t know any better. I had awful timing. I was falling in love with a team in decline.
At the age of seven, I watched every game of the 1990 season. I did the same in 1991, 1992 and 1993. By the age of ten, I was familiar with a life’s worth of bad baseball and awful baseball management. In the process, however, I was hooked.
I was fine. Just put a ball game in front of me with twenty-five men approximating Major League Baseball players, dressed in white, orange and blue, wearing jerseys with the word “Mets” in script across the front. Fast forward sixteen years or so and I care more.
It’s because there’s an opportunity here. There are some truly special players on this Mets team; some of the best to ever don the uniform. And I want to see this through.
Ah well, this is supposed to be a bio…
I was born in Manhattan, raised at an early age in the Bronx and then moved off to East Orange, New Jersey while in kindegarten and stayed throughout my school years. I graduated from Rutgers University in Newark. For a time there, I ran a concert promotion outfit, booking rock shows throughout the NY/NJ metropolitian area.
Now, I’m just a dude who’s annoyed about the Mets.