Baseball
The New York Mets. My God. Why do any of us do this to ourselves? I grew up playing baseball. I was never all that good, but I held my own. Both of my brothers were
better players than I ever was, but I still enjoyed it. Oddly enough, I think I'm a better softball player now, and indeed a better athlete now than I ever was when
I was playing baseball. Sunday morning Softball really became an important part of my life. The level of camaraderie I feel with those guys is more than anything I've
experienced before, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. When I moved out to LA, one of the first things I had to do was find a team to play with, and boy did I.
I'm now on three different teams to be exact. I love it.
But the Mets. What the hell? As I'm writing this, they're making a run at a Wild Card spot in dramatic fashion. I want to be excited, it's just... well... I've been
hurt before.
Bonding at Citi Field (and formerly Shea Stadium)
Remember that super tall guy from my family page? Yeah, this is him 10 years ago. Tiny little dude. My father had taken Christian and I to the first game ever played at Citi Field. It was an exhibition game agains the Boston Red Sox. Another great memory. But boy, those Mets. They really know how to hurt you.
Champs
This is my team from back east. My brother, Johnny, is in the middle in the bottom row. He's holding a jar of pre-workout powder. Don't ask.These guys and I have been through some real battles together over the years. When this photo was taken, we were in the middle of a three-peat (back-to-back-to-back championships). Real dynasty stuff. I know I'll be missed on that team while I'm out here in LA galavanting. But when I come home, I'll take my spot back. Most of these guys play until they hit an age where they physically can't anymore. Their kids grow up watching them play. I think I'd like that.