A Baseball Journey: Chapter I

Old Yankee Stadium. Ok, not that old. Middle Yankee Stadium. Freakin' Yankee Stadium. Ahem. Yankee Stadium. Bottom 9th, Yanks down 5-4, 1 out and 1 on. Bob Sheppard: "Pinch hitting, Number Thirty-Three, Gary Ward. Number Thirty-Three."

"He's gonna do it," a boy said out loud. "This guy? He's a bum," his father replied. "No, he's gonna do it. He's gonna do it," the boy insisted. Other than when bedtime was, this was the first time the boy had dared disagree with his father, putting the old man's perfect record of being right on the line.

Bang! Ward's powerful swing sent the ball high, deep and into the Right Field bleachers. Already on his feet, the boy leapt in the air and delivered a Shou RyuKen Uppercut right to his mother's nose. Sheer joy instantly turned to panic, as the boy had really put something into the triumphant fist pump. Tempered excitement was soon restored (the woman had a fantastic chin) and The Chairman walked the boy out.

That was July 31st, 1987. I was seven years old.

I quickly reasoned that I was so overjoyed when Ward came through (enough to knock my own mother's block off) not because the Yankees won, but because it was Ward that came through. First, my dad was wrong. This opened up a world of possibilities, though I did give plenty of weight to this being a matter of chance, and he was still flawless in matters of fact. Second, I was right. In my first such leap of faith, I had hit paydirt.

I was a Mets fan. Not only a Mets fan, but a Mets fan raised to hate the Yankees. Maybe it was being at the game in person (I had watched the Buckner play just ten months earlier) maybe I got caught up in "The Wave," or maybe I just liked the matchup. In reality, it was baseball's anthem still ringing in my head from two innings earlier. "Root, root, root for the home team. If they don't win, it's a shame." Right? I mean, what did I owe Detroit? They weren't playing the Mets, so why not? At that moment, it made sense. And I latched on to Gary Ward, and he to me forever. That was the night I became a baseball fan.