Thursday, June 18, 2009

Fuckin' Franco

Tonight was a night of memories from the get-go.

Actually this season so far has been a metaphor for a lot of bittersweet memories.  As a for instance, I had a Kenny Rogers Karma piece up earlier this season.  I've been living the life of great Mets philosopher Kevin McReynolds.  The last two seasons have brought upon a new medical term called "Post-Traumatic Mets Disorder."

But tonight was interesting for several reasons, as we had a two-fer.  One was, the commemorative Mets victory over a certain team with the name of a regional bird 40-years ago coinciding with another 40th anniversary of a music festival promoting peace and love.  

About 40 strong (instead of 400,000 strong) descended upon a Metsopotamia-Town-Hall on the Lower East Side tonight, celebrating what our Leader(s) termed as "MetsStock."

(Here were five representatives of the 40 strong)

In the meantime, I had a funny memory of my own.  See, I wasn't worried going into the 9th inning, which I guess make sense.  I mean, if you figure that you win either way (the Mets win, we all win.  If they lose, it just means I drink more.  See?  Win-win), you kind of don't care that Frankie R gives up a lead-off double and the Mets just don't get the calls they should.

But no -- what I thought of was kind of one of those bittersweet memories most of us seasoned Mets fans have.  

Back in 1996, I attended a game with Mr. E and one of his special lady friends.  It was a double-header in July of that year.  I forget who they played, but I want to say it was the Reds.  In any case, the first game was boooooring.  Like, biology class boring.  Anyway, it was the 9th inning and "bullet proof relief-man" (that's a bit of irony there folks) John Franco comes in, and promptly gives up the tying runs.

I think the other team went ahead in the 10th.  Needless to say, because we were falling asleep, Mr. E and I got out of dodge.  But not before a lone voice in the Upper Deck of Section 30-something said what he wanted to say - said what we were all thinking actually.

"FUCKIN' FRANCO!!!!!!!"

That was what I was thinking when K-Rod changed his name to BB-Rod and 1B-Rod or 2B-Rod or WALK-OFF TO THE FUCKING BALTIMORE ORIOLES ROD...Eh, you get the point.

Can't get too mad.  In 2006, the Orioles took the series of a vastly superior Mets team.  I know, we are hardly superior this year.  But when you are thinking like Kevin McReynolds, either scenario, you win, right?  Right?

Oh and as irony would have it, I go to grab a shirt to sleep in.  These were my two choices.
This wasn't just done for the site.  Seriously, these were my two choices.  

I ended up going with Choice #3 - a Jersey Shore Jazz & Blues Foundation Shirt. 

Sometimes, Kevin McReynolds Philosophy doesn't take away the bitterness of a bittersweet memory. 

Whatever.

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