Rounding third Knight! The Mets will win the ballgame! The Mets win!
It’s curious how our society commemorates events especially in five-year cycles. Witness, for instance, the mass hoopla over the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, which surely stung no less on the eighth or ninth anniversaries.
But I’ll play along. Twenty-five years ago tonight, I became an eternal optimist.
Down two runs in the bottom of the 10th inning, with two outs and two strikes. “Hoping against hope that something will start to happen,” as Bob Murphy said in the radio broadcast.
I write this not to rub salt in the wounds of Red Sox fans, wounds no doubt salved by the balm of ’04 and ’07 titles. I’ve always argued we share a common enemy in the Yankees.
I write this because the Mets’ comeback to win Game Six of the 1986 World Series was as close as I’ve ever come to witnessing a miracle. Especially for a teenage boy who grew up in New York rooting for the Mets, Jets and Rangers, enduring year after year of futility.
Posted under Religion, Sports
Tags: baseball, new york mets