Popular dance competition versus struggling area baseball franchise on a roll. What did we do before remotes? (Sadly, we do not have picture-in-picture, otherwise there would be no blog post this morning, and I'd be hard at work writing that case study.)
The 42-minute rain delay (during the baseball game) certainly made life a little easier, for about 42 minutes. But I was seriously torn.
As many of you know, I have been a devout (or devoted) Mets fan since I was a kid back in New York City in the '70s, and remained one even after they traded Tom Seaver and were in a perpetual slump. (
I still love you Lee Mazzilli -- even though you are no longer cute!)
In fact, we fans had gotten so used to the Mets sucking on a regular basis (though I still loved them) that it came as a bit of a shock when they made it to the World Series -- and won! -- in 1986, a victory made all the sweeter as I was in college in the Boston area at the time and was surrounded by Red Sox fans. (And to all you Red Sox fans reading this who still feel they were deprived I say "oh boo hoo hoo." You've more than made up for that defeat. Speaking of defeat, how about those 18-1 Patriots, huh? ; )
But getting back to the present... After living in the Chicago area for over eight years and then having a kid and despite moving back East having little or no time for a sport that often takes more than three hours to play (how do people watching cricket do it?), my burning love for my New York Mets had cooled to a warm ember. Until last year.
While my spouse and daughter have attended several (or more) games at Shea the past couple of years (I still miss the multi-colored metal cladding), often with my nine-year-old nephew, who I have no doubt could some day play for the Mets (yes, he's that good, and I ain't braggin'), I have contented myself watching them from the comfort of home and my big screen HDTV.
And as there is only so much Food Network and HGTV a person, even one who likes food and real estate and decorating, can take, and there is next-to-nothing of interest on network TV or basic cable, I have been watching a lot of Mets baseball. (
"Jo-sé, Jo-sé, Jo-sé, Jo-sé. Jo-sé. Jo-o-sé.")
But last night, between the hours of 8 and 10 p.m. ET, I was torn, as Wednesday is not only Prince Spaghetti Day and Sundae at Carvel but
"So You Think You Can Dance," which I am absolutely addicted to, much to my surprise. I love the dancing (though not necessarily the dancers), the judges, and the host, Cat Deeley. Seriously. I. Love. This. Show. Am even going to buy tickets to see the Top 10 on tour.
But the Mets, my Mets, who have been on a roll (could it be that firing Willie and making Jerry Manuel the coach did the trick? Johan Santana and others say "yes") were playing the San Francisco Giants at home, and I had to watch.
Let me just say (or, more accurately, type) that after about 10 minutes of me incessantly flipping back and forth, my spouse, child, and cats walked out of the room in disgust. (Okay, the cats stayed, but they slept.) And I was (blissfully) left alone to watch "So You Think You Can Beat the San Francisco Giants."
Which the Mets in fact did, decisively, 5 - 0, last night. Putting them at 47 - 44 just 1.5 games behind the Philadelphia Phillies, the team with possibly the
WORST mascot in the league. To which I say, "Let's go Mets!"
But getting back to that dance show... Not a great night. Yes, there were some very good routines and dancers, but few really breakout performances, though I loved the Bollywood number. For the record, my favorite couples right now are Chelsie and Mark, Courtney and Gev, and Katee and Joshua. But I think Will, who is a Debbie Allen protege, could wind up being the winner or in the top two or three. And I think Comfort and Thane have gotta go -- and will tonight.
And with that bit of analysis, I must get back to work.
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