BY STEVE POPPER
When the bus reached the George Washington Bridge carrying the Mets back from Pittsburgh the conversation stopped, players crowding onto one side of the bus to stare silently at what they saw in the distance.
The smoke and spotlights. And there was an acrid smell in the air.
Mike Piazza’s home run is something I remember, even though I wasn’t a baseball fan at the time. This was my first season where I will identify as a Baseball Fan, so, you know. The role that entertainment and sports had, for a lot of people, in dealing is… Again something I cannot look at critically. It is what it is. (I think back to SNL, Lorne Michaels asking Giuliani, “can we be funny?” And his response, “Why start now?”)
I was home watching the Mets/Phillies game the day Osama Bin Laden was killed, which I wrote about at the time, and I was aware of the connection between that and Piazza’s home run. And I was aware of the fucked upness of the U-S-A chanting, but it was interesting to watch on tv, the way people learned from phones, texts… I cannot disengage, cannot be critical. I just found it interesting… it’s something I am acutely aware of everytime I check twitter when I am AT a baseball game… it is this space where you are away from everything but the balls and bats and beer and baseball but real life keeps happening outside.
So I cannot look at it critically and I cannot look at it “intelligently” but like. IDK, I just wanted to reblog this because I love NYC and I love the Mets and I can never articulate that love adequately, so I keep trying, too many words and not enough meaning.
Anyway, I’d just like to say, in case it wasn’t obvious already, that this is what my tumblr will be like a bit. I don’t know how else to be. I can ignore it I can think about it it all feels wrong. I feel so far away from it all. That’s…good? I don’t even know. So I mean I apologize and hope y’all are enjoying scrolling past all I keep writing because I really don’t expect it to be read.