I had a dilemma last night.
Basically, I had lost my sanity and sense of reason for a brief moment and got tickets to a concert, which was in a way a hot ticket itself (sold out). I didn't pay over cost -- I was even lucky enough to get the ugly fees waived due to desperation, since this person had overbought.
My only problem was...loneliness. I was going by myself since a friend of mine bailed at the last minute. Not to mention the GREAT game on Tuesday was still weighing heavily on my heart, that I had long ago sold my tickets to. I still had tickets to the Wednesday night game though. Now, at first, I had no desire to go to the game. I tried with my might to sell them, but I guess a game against the Nationals, although an NL East rival in the midst of an intense pennant race, wasn't an easy sell.
So Dykstraw, good friend that he is, offered to take the game tickets off my hands. He had a problem too -- his girlfriend may show up late, and there may have even been a chance he'd had gone by himself too.
Why have two people doing different events alone? I felt at that moment - I not only had more desire to go to the game, I felt like I had an obligation to. I have no regrets about not attending the concert right now (although maybe in a month or so, I'll wished that I had).
But let me get back to the obligation part - sometimes I get very strong visions, feelings if you will that I have a destiny to fulfill. Considering that I am a energy-over-spirituality kind of person, I find it odd that I would ever think I was going according to some kind of being's larger "plan." But as I mentioned in a previous post, that I get very intuitive sometimes, and feel like I need to be at a place or time...sometimes, alternatively, if I get a bad feeling about something, I may jump out of that obligation as well.
For some reason last night though, I had a vision -- it kept coming to me. The number "fourteen" kept coming up. I thought I knew why, though. The section I sit in (which you will see highlighted this weekend in the last "Shea Goodbye" installment) is Section 14. And I really want to wax intellectual, the box I sit in - 572 - when reduced to 5+7+2, it equals all you math majors out there...14.
But I felt like it meant something else too. Fourteen runs? Initially, I thought it might be a total for the game. Even after David Wright hit a two-run HR in the eighth, I thought...Beltran or Delgado need to hit another home run to make it 14-10, Mets.
Ironically, right before DW came to bat, I noted the time - 10:14, on the big Armitron. Maybe the 14 itself was reduced to 1+4 = 5 (David Wright finding his swing again).
And is there a #14 on the Mets? Technically, no, it's retired - Gil Hodges...and the number of games left to play? That number was pulled down on Sunday's afternoon bill, by his widow and son.
But when the game was over, Dykstraw kept saying the word (mind you, I had not said anything at this point -- I just merely told him, I felt like I had to be there for something), something that had been materializing in my head all night, but I never quite said out loud.
"Fourteen, baby," he said. "Fourteen."
I won't say it here -- but real Mets fans will know the significance of that number today.
Oh and...a big FUCK YOU to crybaby Elijah Dukes. Did someone shit in your cereal?