Take me In From The Ballgame

Ah, nothing like a fun day at the ballpark. Hot dogs, beer, grass, beer, the crack of the bat. And beer.

Such were the plans for Sunday, August 12th, when I purchased 4 tickets for me and 3 old college friends to see the Mets "play" the Braves. (Given the Mets level these days, and my ongoing belief in truth in advertising, I feel obliged to use quotes.)

No problems. I purchase the tickets, pay the highway robbery add on fees and we're good to go.

That is, until I got an email a week later from the Mets office saying the game time has now been changed to evening. To accommodate the overlords of baseball, i.e. Fox TV. (Why Fox would choose to broadcast my Mets on a game of the week is another issue, as the Mets, sporting a snazzy 3-13 record since the All Star break,  have officially broken the scientific speed record for downward trajectory. Findings to be published in the next issue of MyTeamSucks.com.)

None of us want to go to a Sunday night game. Most of us have lives that include Monday morning. (Present company excluded) It's embarrassing enough being a Mets fan to begin with. To risk being seen on national TV is one I choose not to take.  This is the same organization that, just a few weeks ago, had a promotional night featuring Snooki. Pretty much says it all.

And speaking of sinking, that's the feeling I get in my stomach when I envision trying to get our tickets switched to a different game. One of my friends predicts it won't be a problem. I'm jealous of his naivete. It says very clearly that tickets can't be switched. My powers of empathy inform me that if it was me who came up with the policy, I'd make an exception if a game time was switched, as it's out of the customer's (fan's) control. And the customer is always right. If I'm a doctor and my patient cancels at the last minute, do I charge him? Absolutely. So I understand the policy. But, if I'm a doctor and decide to reschedule my patient from 2:00 PM to 7:00 PM and he can't make it, do I bill him anyway? Of course not. This is what the Mets are doing.

I quickly realize I'm way more naive than my friend.

I call the Mets office and am told by Jason, who's actually pretty courteous, that Major League Baseball has this policy and the Mets only follow it and therefore, they can't help me. I am told to contact Major League Baseball. I don't know anyone by that name. I know only of Lee Majors and Major Lance, (a somewhat obscure 60's R&B singer) and Major Deegan, which ironically is the name of the parkway that goes by Yankee Stadium. Jason can't help me narrow it down.
My powers of empathy are as relevant as tie died jeans at a Tea Party convention. I curse my powers of empathy and wish that I was as soulless as the faceless bureaucrats who disrespect baseball fans.
I have trouble understanding why an organization that is watching the national pastime become almost irrelevant, if ratings are to be believed, chooses to treat its customers this way.

Not only that, as I project the starting rotation, I realize we won't be seeing Mets ace R.A. Dickey. Really the only reason to go to a game these days. Instead, we'll be seeing the guy who pitches 60% of the Mets games, Chris HefNiese. I already know that even if we have a lead, the bullpen, aka "The Pyromaniacs", won't be able to hold it. 

Let's see...do I drive from North Haven, Connecticut to Citi Field (One more corporate stadium...but that's another blog), pay 20 dollars to park, buy overpriced food, all to watch the Mets lose to the Braves, and then drive back to CT, with an ETA past midnight? Or do I stay home and play online chess?

Answer: King's Knight to King's Bishop 3. 

My cousin Les

Hi anyone out there: Thanks for stopping by. I'd like to launch my 1st blog with a memory of my cousin Les Trachtman, 1934-2012, who passed away 7/20/12. 

If you saw Les or spoke with him, you wouldn't be blown away. In fact, you'd walk away thinking, "Nice guy" and then go on to your next thing. 

But "nice guy" describes Les like "decent basketball player" describes Michael Jordan. 

First, I'm not even sure Les was my cousin. That's because he's my grandmother's sister's son. So perhaps he was an uncle. I never understood family titles and all the "removed" or "2nd" or "3rd" stuff.

Next point: Les lived in Potomac, MD with his wife Gerdy. Their 2 children, Alana and Danny live nearby. Les and Gerdy became grandparents for the first time, in their 70's, 2 years ago. Mom Alana would give birth to their 2^nd granddaughter in 2011. Danny got married for the first time around his 40th birthday. So what we have here is a family that does things at their own pace. And that pace is slooow.  The only exception being the matriarch Gerdy, who is "octi-lingual" and does most things in a blur. Les and Gerdy had one of the most interesting dynamics of any couple I've met. Living proof that opposites can indeed attract.  Two whirlwinds, one external and one internal.

OK, so much for demographics. Let's go to the heart of the matter. Why did I drive from CT to Washington DC and back in one day for a memorial service? There are very few people in my life who I'd make a trip like that for. But Les wasn't just anyone. Les was one of the genuinely nicest, kindest, and most humble people I've ever met. 

Les was also a gifted photographer. And as the rabbi said at the memorial service, Les saw the world much like a photographer in the sense that he saw beauty in most everything he did. And he added that beauty to the world. Danny saw Les at the hospital a few days before his passing. Danny asked his dad what the most important values were in life. Although weakened by the leukemia that would take him 2 days later, Les didn't hesitate to answer. He said "Empathy and humility." Simple answer. Just two words. But how many of us live by those standards? I try, and fail miserably most of the time. I suspect there were times in Les' life that he was less than empathic or humble. But I never witnessed any of those moments. 

Les loved to suggest things. All the time, usually unsolicited. What business was it of his to suggest that I look for jobs in a certain way? Who did he think he was suggesting career changes to me? Did I ask his opinion? No, I didn't. But when Les suggested anything, he wasn't married to the suggestion. He was fine if the suggestion was ignored. Which I generally did. But Les was a fount of ideas. And curiosity. And humor. And wisdom. 

At the memorial service, I learned that Les would love to talk with folks just doing their job in public service (as I like to do as well). Cashiers, janitors, blue collar America. He'd smile, strike up a conversation with a question or two. Why? Because he was curious. And because he knew in his heart that we were all equal. There were 2 words that seemed to be totally divorced from Les' life. Those 2 words were ego and judgment.

No, you wouldn't be blown away after speaking with Les. But you'd feel just a little bit better about yourself. Is there a better gift that anyone can give? 

RIP, cousin (uncle?) Les.