My buddy Mitch invited me and the wife to Citi Field to watch the Mets play the Astros last August. It was a Saturday day game. Dickey might have started, but that’s not too important. What is important was Jason Bay playing in left field and the two dudes sitting behind me.
Let me elaborate on them. Both modeled full uniforms: One wore road grays, the other home whites. They had caps and mits, and, when they rushed toward the field to get shot by a T-shirt cannon, I heard the clickety-clack of cleats.
That’s fine for a kid. I’ll even forgive it in a teenager. But, dressing up like that in your late 30′s/early 40′s is the last cry of a desperate dream. You know the one where the team runs out of players and frantically looks to the stands for someone equipped, in uniform, and ready to take the field. That’s the dream those two were living.