Brush With Fame


I'm a big sports fan, even bigger baseball fan. I've  basically followed one team, and one team only since I think my birth..and that team is, yes, the Mets. Yes, that second (at best) team in New York. Second, of course, to the dreaded and evil empire, Yankees.

Well, being it's the first week of the baseball season, and the Met's officially have been eliminated from the playoffs already, I wanted to share a few stories with you.

I remember exactly where I was in 1986 when Mookie Wilson's ball scooted underneath Bill Buckner's legs to allow Ray Knight to score the winning run in what many believe was the final game of the World Series (It wasn't.  The last game of the World Series was a blowout win over Boston the next night). Soon after, I was in New York City at a club with some friends. The bar area was kind of quiet, but there was a stir in the back. I looked over and saw two Met players drinking. One was Keith Hernandez, at the time, my favorite Met.  As he gathered himself up to head out, I stepped near his path and stuck out my hand and said "Good Job!" or something like that, as he shook it and continued his way out.

I've also met some other players at various events and dinners.  But, my recent brush with fame was more recent.  I was invited to a charity event given by the New York Mets, where some players would attend. We were told that this wasn't an autograph signing session, so please don't bring items for signature. I figured, who are they going to have now in the dead of winter? Some minor league scrub..maybe a bullpen pitcher. But, I was pleasantly surprised.

After an hour of food and drinks, there was a sudden noise of people and then applause.  In walks Mr. Met, the Met's mascot. People run around to take pictures... lol..

Then, in walks Jason Bay, a former Pirate and Boston Red Sox all star that hasn't quite had a great first season in New York.  Pretty nice I thought.  People gathered, took pictures and shook hands.  I stood on the outside, just watching.  Then, in another corner in walks Carlos Beltran, he of the 2006 strikeout against the St. Louis Cardinals with the bases loaded and the Met's down 3-1. Yes, that loser..again, I watch as people maul him with pictures and handshakes.

Then in another corner there's a big hub-bub.  I walk over to see a strikingly familiar face, that of David Wright.  David's not only a great player, the face of the Met's, a home-grown talent, but he's also a hard worker, plays through injuries and seems like a genuinely good guy.  Not only all that, but he is my current favorite Met player and incredibly hot. I always thought  the guy was good looking...but seeing him in person, I almost melted. I needed a picture!

The crowd around him was huge. People talking, taking pictures, children smiling, women fawning and me, pushing them all out of the fucking way. I'm getting close..he's smiling, magnetic-fucking-steamingly-attractive. For every pictured David sticks his tongue out in the way he does prior to hitting a baseball, before breaking into a perfectly white, bright smile.

..and it looks like I'm set for being next to take that once in a lifetime picture. He turns his stubbly face to me, smiles, and the gleam of his eyes catches the light and glistens. Cue the harps...start the fog machines...He was mine!
I step forward and smile for the camera as I shake his hand and grab him around his shoulder. We smile, and I ask him if he smiled for the camera.  "Yea, of course!" he replies.

And then he was engulfed the throngs of people waiting for a piece of his flesh.

Me included.

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