(I don’t
know what other languages have a word for baseball, but if you know, please
post a comment.)
Yes, Sunday was opening day for a few teams, but as far as I’m concerned, today
is the official Opening Day, and the first game for the New York Mets. The Mets
have been my team for the past 30 years. Yes, I became a fan in 1986, the
second time they won the World Series.
I’ve been
an off-and-on baseball fan since childhood. Well, sort of. In 1949, I lived in
Brooklyn and was in the second grade. A classmate asked me whether I was for
the Dodgers or the Yankees. I had never heard of the Dodgers (surprising,
because my lefty parents surely knew about Jackie Robinson), but our downstairs
babysitter had mentioned the Yankees, so I said I was for the Yankees. “You
live in Brooklyn, so you gotta be for da Dodgers,” my classmate said, in strong
Brooklynese. You can’t tell me who to be for, I thought, and instantly
conceived a (somewhat) lifelong hatred of the Dodgers: it waned somewhat when
they moved to L.A., then returned when they beat the Mets in playoffs in 1988.
As a teen,
I lived in Philadelphia suburbs, so became a fan of the Phillies, the lowly
Phillies, last in the National League when there only 16 teams in the two
leagues combined, so the Phillies were last of eight. Sometimes they’d end in
seventh place. I kept a residual allegiance to the Yankees, since they could be
sure to win and balance out my fandom for the underdog.
I think
this is enough about baseball for today. Except to add that the Mets won today,
their 36 opening day win against only 12 losses since 1970 (they lost their
first eight opening day games). And it was a pretty interesting game, a
pitcher’s duel through six, then the Braves’ bullpen fell apart.
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