My father hated baseball. The problem is that I loved it. A next-door neighbor hooked me into it, back in 1978, and it’s been my favorite game ever since. I went to very few games, and my great Uncle took me to my first game at Shea Stadium in 1980. I went to one game with my father and that was only because his business partner got tickets.
There were baseball card shows in my area as a kid with autograph signings. I never asked to go because I knew what the answer would be.
When my son, Jason was around 5, I took him to his first game at CitiField. It was only around 9 that he became interested in the Mets more than the Shake Shack at CitiField. Around 10, I took him to autograph signings at the mall and card shows when he got hooked. He loves it and it would pain me to tell him no. Last weekend, he was in heaven. There was a show with Mets manager Buck Showalter and slugger Pete Alonso. I paid a couple of bucks to get a. photo with Buck. As for Alonso, no pictures were allowed by the company he was working with. I did take a photo of Pete and Jason, but it was terrible. My wife texted and demanded that I get another photo done. Since a buddy of mine was working with Buck on the show, I asked for a favor. Via my buddy and through Buck, Pete graciously took the photo with Jason.
Seeing the photo brings me joy even if Jason preferred to have seen Buck. It brings me joy because I never want Jason to have the disappointments I did. I never want him to share my disappointments, I try harder for Jason because there will be a day that I’m gone, and he will have a lot of great memories with me.
