credit where credit is due

Did you see this??? David Wright wants us to vote for his at-bat song. (I forsee disaster here, but that’s an entirely other post.)

This is my idea. No, seriously, it is. (MG says, stamping her feet.) Here, let me take you through it:

At the beginning of Spring Training, I was reading the Post’s Spring Training blog, and at the end of the first column, the reporter said: What questions do you want asked?

You can read my response for yourself by following the link, but to make a long story short, here it is:
3) Have any of the Mets thought about what their at-bat music will be this year? Is Lo Duca keeping the Saturday Night Fever theme? How will David Wright possibly pick his songs without input from Mr. Cliff Floyd (or at least, pick something remotely cool without Cliff’s help)?

The next day, it continued with this post:
Metsgrrl, who commented after first posting, is definitely onto something. How will Wright pick his songs now that Cliff Floyd is not around?

By the next day, it had evolved into “HELP DAVID WRIGHT” with both the Post’s blog and Adam Rubin were asking fans to reply with their responses.

And finally, the final post, with my shoutout.

The problem is that I want these songs to be a representation of DAVID WRIGHT. I wrote about this last year, and I know I am obsessed with this stuff, but I am obsessed with music, generally, no matter where it is. But especially in the case of the Mets’ at-bat songs. This is probably because when I first started going to games, the at-bat songs were something familiar, something in my territory, something I could latch onto and identify and think about. As my fandom evolved, that grew into trying to figure out what the song was, why that player would use that song, why someone changed their song. I could like or not like a player just based on what their song was. (I mean, god love Chris Woodward, but *only* Dire Straights? eck.)

So, yeah, D. Wright. We’re going to end up with Third Eye Blind or something vapid and mainstream, and I could deal with vapid and mainstream if I thought it was a representation of what the guy standing in the batter’s box truly wanted. But it’s going to be what the frat boys in the upper deck want. And, you know, eck again.

Someone needs to use James Brown this year. He lived in Queens until 1969. That’s enough of a connection for me.

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