Mets Game

A ticket to a Mets game in August is as useless as someone handing you a condom after your kid graduates from high school. Why would I need this now? What if the tickets were twelve rows behind home plate? Yes, it’s still the Mets and they would have trouble beating a Little League baseball team. Take a second now to get all of the Mets insults out.

Are you done? Feel better? Anyway, I went to the game with my family. Going to a sporting event with your family on a Wednesday night is…different. I can’t be a complete degenerate like I normally would with friends. I can’t consume the same amount of alcohol as I normally would. Nothing good will come from getting wasted in front of your parents in a public setting. The look of disappoint, shame and embarrassment from a parent is humiliating or so I’ve heard.

The price of the beer does play a factor too. Spending $8 for a small cup of beer is expensive for anyone. It becomes even more expensive for someone who lives with their parents. A person who has to debate what is more important, lunch for the week or a few beers at the game, should probably avoid making more bad decisions that involve alcohol.

I can’t heckle the same way. How do I share my disapproval for the opposing team sober? Think of all the horrible obscenities I could be shouting at the Marlins pitcher from a safe distance after he strikes out Jason Bay for the third time. I won’t be able to properly communicate my feelings of pure disgust towards the home plate umpire, also from a safe distance.

After the Mets scored their first run I jumped up and did this weird celebratory arm thrust. It was over the top. I immediately sat down and regretted doing it. How many people saw it? I got a dirty look from some little kids sitting to my left. Those kids don’t understand what it’s like being a Mets fan and how rare it is to see them score. I told them their parents didn’t love them. Nah, I didn’t. Totally wish I did though.  I know the attention wasn’t solely on me, but when someone leaps out of their seat to do a Street Fighter sort of uppercut people notice. I looked to my right and my family had a look of confusion mixed with embarrassment with a hint of, “What the hell are you doing?”

It isn’t easy being a Mets fan. Although, it is easier than I thought to get the look of shame from my parents.