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i’ll be home when i’m sleeping | metsgrrl.com

i’ll be home when i’m sleeping

I woke up this morning at 5:30am, dreaming of baseball.

No, really. I had baseball dreams last night. And they were baseball dreams, dreams of balls soaring through the air and blue and orange running the bases and Shea roaring and the sun shining.

I went to bed early because I was tired and felt like I was coming down with a cold, so I mainlined Vitamin C and zinc and took some melantonin and got into bed just when the Tigers were starting to show some offense. The Mets were going to need me more.

5:30am rolls around and I’m wide awake, can’t go back to sleep, and know that TBF’s alarm is going off in half an hour, mine going off in an hour – but then I can tell that he’s awake.

“Guess what we’re doing today,” I said through the dark.
“We’re going to the playoffs!”

I am almost jealous of him right now. I met him at Grand Central last night so we could go home together, and he came down the escalator wearing his Mets hat, incongruous with his shirt and tie and fancy shoes. All I could think is that I could not possibly understand how he feels. He has been a Mets fan since about the age of 4. For a refreshing change, he doesn’t have to say goodbye to baseball in September. This year, he gets to just BE A METS FAN in New York City when the Mets are on top of the world, after years of not knowing what that feeling was like, of having that feeling and then losing it, of having that feeling and having it smashed to bits. And this is the first time that playoff tickets were so easily obtainable, where he had them in hand, without having to call in favors or sell small children to get in.

I smiled at him.
“What?”
“You’re wearing your hat.”
“I don’t want anyone to think I’m a f’ing Yankees fan.”

But I knew the truth. He’s just excited.

So I wore my hat on the way in this morning, too, but no one on my commute route seems to care about baseball. Our neighborhood is filled with transplants from around the country and also, to the hipster, baseball is something to be regarded with derision.

In four more hours I get to leave work and head for Shea.

Over at Mets Walkoffs, my prediction is featured amongst other guest bloggers. You can add yours as well in the comments there.

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