So we woke up this morning with a clear day before us, which led me to say to the wife and kids, “Why don’t we go to the Mets game?”
Then, quickly, I realized something: Who the hell wants to go to a Mets game?
I’m not trying to dog the Mets again, but … well, why would anyone pay money to see such a thing? I actually went to Stubhub, where tickets for Rangers Mets at Citi Field were selling for about $15 a pop. There are four of us, so that’s $60. Plus another $10 (or so) for parking. Plus a bridge toll. Plus, oh, $30 for food. Put differently: For relatively cheap baseball tickets, I’d be dropping more than $100.
The worst part—attending a Major League Baseball game is sorta dull. I hate to admit such a thing, because I covered the sport for Sports Illustrated and, as a boy, lived and died with my teams and favorite players. But, well, yawn. As a writer—great. As a paying customer—eh. My kids would be excited for roughly half an inning. Then they’d wanna walk around. Then we’d sit. Then they’d ask for food. We’d buy food, walk some more, sit. I’d try and explain some intricacies (why Daniel Murphy didn’t swing at a 3-0 fastball, for example), and both the boy and the girl would yawn. Come the fourth inning, we’d start talking about leaving. Come the fifth, we’d be gone.
I believe baseball to be a wonderful game. I do. But, whether I’m jaded or tired, I just don’t feel like watching any longer.
It’s not especially fun.