I consider myself a patient person. There are many things I’m waiting
and hoping for in my life — not the least of which is money — but I
usually end up deferring to that old axiom, “I’ve waited this long; I
can wait a little longer.”
Baseball, though, is different. Its season spans half a year (more like
eight months, counting Spring Training and the postseason). It’s the
backdrop to our lives, there everyday. I envision its daily
omnipresence like communications theorists do the radio for Joe Blow
Cubicle. He awakes in the morning to his radio alarm, listens to his favorite talk show in the car on the way to work, throws on the rock station at his desk during the day and so on.
For all the anticipation leading to Opening Day (deservedly so), many teams — including my Mets this year — have an off-day after their respective openers.
After waiting six months for Mets baseball and enjoying a tidy 2-1 win over the Reds on Monday, I’m ready for Game 2 on Tuesday. But, I will wait — begrudgingly — because I have no choice, because the Scheduling Gods, exploiting my patient disposition, have seen to it that the Mets will not play on consecutive days.
Sure, there is fantasy baseball to tide me over. Between my three(!)
teams, I’ll have more than enough to keep me busy on that front.
Tuesday is also Nenny’s birthday, so we have dinner plans before my
late shift (8 p.m. – 4 a.m. ET, yuck).
Don’t get me wrong: I understand the necessity for an off-day one or two days after the opener. Teams are traveling, getting acclimated to chillier climes. Pitchers’ arms must be preserved. This makes plenty sense. But I don’t have to like it.