It's been almost six weeks since the Mets played a game. I went through my usual five stages of grief, all of which were anger. But now I'm ready. I've been ready since yesterday when I wandered into a 7-Eleven I frequent during the season and sometimes pick up a beverage and a sandwich to bring to Shea. I hadn't been there since the season ended. I made a beeline to the cooler door and realized I didn't need a beverage. I wasn't going to a game. I couldn't even remember why I came in there.
As I've let on from time to time, I'm quite the political junkie. These past few months when I haven't been skipping from Mets site to Mets site, I've been on political sites. Couldn't get enough of 'em. Then we had the election. It worked out well from my perspective, but y'know what? I can't look at another political blog. Six weeks from now, I will not be waiting for Senators & Congressmen to report (although, come to think of it, that would seem to be the idea behind electing them).
This afternoon, under a bleak November sky, I don't want Pitchers & Catchers. I want a game, a game that counts. I'm not a baseball junkie. Baseball isn't junk. There's a difference between what you shoot up your veins and what is embedded in your soul.
Seriously, though. I want a game. Tonight. Let's go!
you are not the only one,pal
I feel ya'.
I go to school,
softball practice (which somewhat satisfies my baseball necessities) come home,
homework,
watch loudmouths and miss hearing gary keith & ron
The diabolical outcome of the World Series and the (premature, to my mind) retirement of my baseball god sort of dulled my desire to have anything to do with baseball for a while. I tried to watch a Dominican game (as is my offseason wont), but I just wasn't feelin' it. The almost-nightly “Shea in ruins” nightmares haven't helped either.
I'll get over it. The World Series part, anyway.