Because Hope Never Fails

It snowed Saturday in Denver.  In fact it started snowing some time late that night and didn't quit even as Sunday become Monday.  It was cold and windy so the white powder blew until the cars parked along my street looked oddly misshapen by the drifts.  It must be an election year because twice I looked out to see a plow truck go by, a sure sign that the mayor wants our love.  The forecast is calling for more of the same and single digit temperatures this week.  Time to head for the store for milk and bread!  But exactly sixteen hundred and fifty three miles from my cold, white street is a cluster of green outfields and dirt diamonds that hold the hope of better things to come.

Saturday in Port Saint Lucie, Florida, was the first official workout for the 2015 New York Mets. I know( thanks Twitter) that there the air was filled with the sound of spring, the thwack of a pitch hitting the catcher's mitt, the thud of a fungo bat punching grounders out to short, and the clamor of kids pressed against the fence for autograph's.  Sure it was 75 degrees and I am guessing that the birds were singing, but those aren't the true sounds of spring for a baseball fan.  No the sweetest music to the ear this time of year is "pitchers and catchers report".  

It's been almost nine years since that fateful fall day in 2006 when Carlos Beltran inexplicably stood like a statue as that final strike three from Adam Wainwright sailed by him sending the Mets into a near decade of futility. Now for the first time since then, they have a real chance at the playoffs. Beltran is long gone now as is Tom Glavine who gave up 7 runs in the first inning on the last day of 2007 to dash Mets fans hopes that year. Gone to is Shea stadium and with it memories of the September collapse of 2008. Bernie Madoff is gone to the big house for the rest of his days and Mr Wilpon has no excuse to not spend money on the team.  Now us fanatics have placed our sports souls in the hands of a stable of young pitchers, led by Matt Harvey and Jacob deGrom.  We pine for the growth of Wilmer Flores and Juan Lagares, and the health of David Wright. We pray that Lucas Duda will hit bombs like he did last year.  Oh just to see big Bartolo Colon put the ball in play so
he has to run to first.  Hope is alive again in Flushing!

In cities from San Diego to Cleveland there is reason for optimism.  Hey, even Cubs fans are hopeful that the curse may be broken soon.  That's the thing about baseball and why it's still our nation's first love.  Football may be more popular today, but baseball still tugs at our heartstrings because it coincides with the coming warmth and promise of summer.  No matter our teams prospects for the coming season we wait expectantly for that dormant bulb to show signs of life.  Today Coors Field in downtown Denver is quiet and snow covered, much like my adopted city's Rockies have been of late. But even here the stirrings of hope have begun in the newspaper and in line at the grocery store. "If Tulo stays healthy we have a chance".  Last year the Mets were in Colorado in April and we had a foot of snow; this year they don't come in until August.  Will they still be in contention by then?  We can only dream!

The other day I spent half an afternoon teaching my three year old twin nephews to sing "Take Me Out To The Ballgame".  Now when we are together they want to sing with me and shout on the line that goes "cause it's one, two, three strikes you're out at the old ball game".  I think it's time to teach them "Meet the Mets", if only to irritate their dad. He's a Giants fan.