Lessons of Hope & Presence from a Lost Baseball Season & a Healing Journey:
This past March, the Mets opened their season defeating the Pirates 11-7. Over 40,000 of us left Citi Field thinking this could be our year. We were sadly mistaken.
This season did not turn out as we expected-it was theoretically over after a brutal 12-game losing streak in June. You can point to injuries, underperforming stars, and a challenging first-half schedule with four West Coast trips by mid-June for the disappointing season. Dreams of a glorious October quickly transitioned to hopes for 2027 (if there is a season) before the 4th of July.
A cancer diagnosis changes everything, including one’s fandom. That glorious Opening Day carried more significance than previous years. I was in between chemotherapy treatments at the time, and uncertain of what my future would bring. While tomorrow remains ambiguous, I wondered then if this baseball season would be my last.
There is a strong possibility that next season will be cancelled due to an expected lock-out, and only God knows how and where I will be, come Opening Day 2028.
Could this be my last season to enjoy?
My feelings about this season, and its importance, have evolved over the past few months. From hopes of a championship in April, there was a frustration and disappointment by June that Mets fans know all too well. It has now shifted to a hope for next season.
Mets fans, like people of faith, live in hope.
On my healing journey, I remain hopeful. A recent CT scan showed no evidence of cancer, and a diagnostic laparoscopy next week will determine my next steps. The outcomes range from surgery to more chemo to simply monitoring the body. Anything is possible.
It is difficult to look too far ahead, and I am grateful for some clarity that should come next week. But there is an invitation this year, from the baseball diamond to the doctor’s office to enjoy today’s game of life, no matter how and when it ends.
I can now watch these meaningless Mets games over the next six weeks and just enjoy the 9-innings, saving money reserved for playoff tickets and saving my nails from biting. I can also enter next week’s procedure, grateful for these weeks away from chemotherapy and the time with my family before a new school year resumes.
Brooklyn Dodgers’ fans ended all but one season (1955) with the mantra, “Wait ‘till next year!” While I wait with great hope for a 2027 pennant race and my continued physical healing, I will remain grateful and present for today-no matter what tomorrow may bring.
