Happy Father’s Day, Dad

My father is the reason I’m a Mets fan.

He grew up in Newark, New Jersey and has always told me he started off as a Yankees fan.  I block that out of my mind at times, but I am constantly reminded when I glance over my desk to a framed photo of the 1949-1953 World Champion New York Yankees that was passed from my grandfather to my dad.

But my dad eventually saw “the light” and started rooting for the Mets when the Yankees took a bit of a turn in the late-60’s (not that the Mets were any better (except in ‘69, of course)).

When I was born many years later, there was a battle for my baseball allegiance.  My entire mother’s family was, and still are, die-hard Yankees fans.  My dad, the lone Mets fan, had to take them all on to have his son become a Mets fan. 

I can remember the day I got “Metty-Bear,” a small teddy bear dressed in Mets pinstripes.  That was the day my heart was tied to the Mets.

I carried that thing everywhere when I was little and had it in my bed when I would sleep.  To this day, it sits on a stool next to my bed.

My father and I (and now my mother, too) always have the Mets.  Even if he is one of the grumpiest fans I know, we always have the team in orange and blue.

Thank you Dad, for fighting the good fight and making sure I turned out all right.

Happy Father’s Day and Let’s Go Mets!