The New York Mets 2015 season officially came to an end on November 1st.

It still makes me giddy to say that out loud. Playing baseball in November means you had one hell of a season and were one of the top two teams in baseball. I’ll be damned if I saw that coming before the season started.

This past baseball season was without a doubt the most enjoyable I’ve ever experienced in my 43 years on this planet. Even though our beloved New York Mets just fell short and lost in the World Series, it cannot erase the joy it brought to my entire family and all of the memories we’ll have from this season. Each and every one of us was glued to the TV from April through October and I miss the hell out of it already.

I grew up watching the god awful Mets teams of the 70’s and early 80’s on a small black and white TV with my dad always sitting there next to me. It didn’t matter that the team was horrendous, it was a time to just hang with my pops. We didn’t even have to talk much during each game; the game itself was our conversation with only a telepathic communication needed. If a Met player made an error, a glance towards each other spoke volumes. Even attempts at real conversation would go like this:

“How was school today son?”

“Um, good or whatever, Doug Flynn cannot be our shortstop next year.”

Fast forward to 2015 and my son and I watch the Mets in the exact same manner. Except in high def on a big screen TV, while we are simultaneously tweeting via Twitter and discussing the OPS and BABIP for each hitter. Beyond that it was like totally the same.

This year we kicked it up a notch though. We got into it early. Like as early as humanly possible. We attended Spring Training for the first time ever.

I won’t rehash the story now as you can read about our experience through the following links:

Spring Training Day 1

Spring Training Day 2

Spring Training Day 3

Looking back on it all, it truly was magical from the very beginning. Not only did we get an up close and personal view of the players …

… and endless autographs for my son

Yes, that is the Noah Syndergaard. But he also got his first go round on TV and did not disappoint. To this day, I still get people asking me if it was possible that they saw my son on the TV while they were eating dinner or out with friends.

Hells yeah you did.

Port St Lucie, FL will now be a permanent destination each and every February. And this year we are quadrupling our group by adding friends and family to the mix. It is a must for all hardcore baseball fans.

Allow me to wax poetic even more about America’s past time.

Baseball isn’t for everyone, I know that. It is a slow moving sport and yes, they play 162 games over the course of 6 months. It isn’t the juggernaut that is the NFL and games do lack that “event” feeling, at least up until the playoffs.

But the pace is what makes it so fantastic. It is the background music/soundtrack of spring and summer. It doesn’t ask you to stay riveted to each and every moment. It fits right in with the relaxed and chilled vibe of summer. It is a familiar friend where there is the comfort of knowing you can hang for periods of time without saying a word.

Now having said that, there is a unique drama that only occurs in baseball. Because there are so many games and they are played nearly every day, there is always a new twist or turn to contend with. Especially in larger markets like New York, Chicago or Los Angeles where there are a number of beat reporters who cover the teams on a day to day basis. They need a daily story/angle and do a good job of drumming them up regularly. Why did that guy glare at the manager after his at bat? Why didn’t he run his hardest after hitting that ground ball? Why was so and so benched for a second straight game? Typically not earth shattering stuff, but interesting all the same. Like the kind of family stuff we all encounter on a daily basis. A problem on Tuesday can quickly become a non issue after a good night’s sleep and  a successful game the next day.

Baseball is also a thinking man’s game and if I am anything, I am a thinking man. You can debate lefty/righty splits, bunt or no bunt and defensive substitutions all day and night. The depth of baseball stats is overwhelming but completely fascinating at the same time. Some say it ruins the game, others rely solely on stats when debating the intricacies of the game. No matter where you fall on the spectrum, the game is still being debated after the last out is recorded. I love that.

After we returned from Spring Training, we felt a different kind of connection with the team. These were real people who just happened to have maybe the greatest job in the world. We saw them from day one; literally introducing themselves to each other as they took the field; very cool stuff. And because the Mets are a very young team, you got the feeling like you were there when it was all starting. The initial hype was palpable and frickin exciting.

As this season progressed, and the typical ups and downs occurred, my wife and daughter also became attached. We could discuss any aspect of the team and we all knew exactly what we were talking about. They’ve always enjoyed baseball but this was different. We even knew the names of the Mets players’ children. Again, like family.

By July/August, the Mets kicked it into high gear and we were riveted. Every game was must watch TV. This young and up an coming team was maturing right before our eyes. We knew good things were coming, just not this quickly.

By the time the playoffs started, we all had our assigned positions on the couch. Every ball and strike was the end of the world. As much as I like the slow pacing of the regular season, the playoffs are a different animal. It is insane and all consuming and worth the stress.

I’ll never forget texting with my wife and son from a bar during a game while I was in Florida for work.

I’ll never forget my father-in-law calling my son after every big home run by Daniel Murphy.

I’ll never forget waking up my daughter at 12:30 to allow her to see the Mets celebrate their first trip to the World Series since 2000.

I’ll never forget having my parents over on Halloween night and the highs of the early lead in Game 4 and the absolute agony of losing the game late.

I’ll never forget watching the last minute of commentary after the Mets lost the World Series and the last camera shot of the empty stadium.

I’ll never forget realizing that I will miss it all dearly once the kids get older and leave the house.

Thank you for the New York Mets 2015 season. I dare you to top it all in 2016.

The last day of our “Escape to Mets Camp” was Sunday and unlike all of the other days, we were welcomed by this unfamiliar site.

I googled it and learned it is referred to as “sunshine”. What a neat concept. I like it.

So if day one was about the initial excitement and day two was about perseverance, then day three was about … a few different things:

1. Soaking it all in – while Jack was on the autograph hunt, I reminded myself to take it slow, enjoy the experience, carefully observe and realize just how damn unforgettable this was going to be.
2. Jealousy – to be so young with your future still out ahead of you. To make a living out of your passion – for the players, coaches and media, etc. To be a 12 year old without a care in the world. Not to mention the joy that is that giant yellow orb in the sky.
3. Jealousy turning to determination – for my son, I want to do all I can to allow him to pursue his dreams while keeping him on track but not meddling too much. Easy right? For me, even at 42 years of age, I CAN still follow my passions and enjoy the journey.

With that as the backdrop, here is the story of two dudes; one mature/devastatingly handsome/well seasoned/world wise … and the other his father. Read on as they tour Mets spring training camp in Port St. Lucie, FL on March 1, 2015.

Game on at 9:30 AM after having arrived at 8:00, iced coffee in hand, to watch the players arrive in their ridiculously expensive rides. And maybe a scream or ten for an autograph.

Since Jack and I were now experts on how to navigate the Mets workout, we wandered off on our own while the players stretched and the majority of the fans looked on in awe.

I decided to capture the calm before the storm on the various fields.

We then regrouped in time to catch the end of the stretch and inspirational message from the coaches.

And then they were off to their assigned drills in what appeared to be controlled chaos. One of the cool things here was the high fives given to the kids along the pathways.

While my son wandered to and fro and managed to score some free baseballs from the coaches, I settled in at infield practice. There I witnessed the familiar David Wright field, hop and throw we’ve come accustomed to the past ten years.

But even more interesting was watching the Mets manager, Terry Collins, closely monitoring his two shortstops. One of the biggest concerns this season is the defense provided at SS. You could sense the tension as Terry paced the field like an expectant father.

I then followed him to another field where his dynamic pitchers were practicing fielding drills. He said very little and just observed. That said a lot.

A quick stop to watch Bobby Parnell warm-up.  To me, there is something fascinating and almost magical about a pitcher’s wind-up. To see someone throw 90 mph up close is beyond impressive. A true art form.

And then Jack and I made our smartest move of the day. No, it wasn’t putting on sunscreen. We got first in line at the batting cages and just patiently waited for the arrival of the players. One by one they poured in and we had front row access to witness their swings and baseballish banter.

Brandon Nimmo, the nicest and most accessible Met in camp.

Noah Syndergaard in what looks like the perfect baseball pose. I guarantee it is on a future baseball card. And that hair, chin line and beard is kind of awesome. To be in my early 20’s again.

Seriously, is there a better color combo on a baseball uniform?

I had to convince Jack not to steal a protein shake when no one was looking.

David Wright and Michael Cuddyer, friends from way back in the day, are the true leaders of this team and that was obvious throughout the three days we were there. And they are obviously besties.

And then our strategy paid off big time.

Autograph from David Wright.

And Zack Wheeler.

And Noah Syndergaard.

And Wilmer Flores.

After that nice run, there were two players that remained elusive and basically shunned signing for anyone.

That would be Matt Harvey …

… and Jacob de Grom.

I understand they are the two “hottest” signatures to obtain, but if David Wright can take the time out each practice to sign for all, especially the kids, so can they.

Oh well. A challenge for next spring.

By 12:30, after getting some additional autographs and watching David Wright, Curtis Granderson and Juan Lagares tear it up at batting practice, we called it a day.

We hit up Duffy’s for lunch for a third time and chilled out with our haul and our sunburns. Jack was thrilled with how day three turned out and appeared ready to head back home to the NJ.

After lunch ended, we had about two hours to kill before heading to the airport so I suggested we drive back to Tradition Field and take some pictures of the stadium now that it was empty. Lo and behold, we pulled in and some of our fellow diehards were still there. Apparently some of the players were still in the locker room so the stalkers fans could still get one last glimpse.

As expected, Jack jumped out of the car and took up his favorite position by the media gate.

And wouldn’t you know it, he got a few more autographs including #3 on the back of his shirt – Curtis Granderson.

Once it was confirmed by the security guard that the last player left, I finally saw Jack admit to himself it was over and let out a sigh.

Our father/son adventure had come to an end and while we were both exhausted and devastated to see it end, we both knew it exceeded even our lofty expectations. It truly was a time neither of us will ever forget.

Until we do it again next year …

And in 2017 …

Because we know it’s happening.

EPILOGUE

Our flight back to NJ was delayed and we didn’t land in the Trenton airport until 12:20.

We then waited 40 minutes for the staff to de-ice the ramp off of the plane.

Even after that it took 10 minutes just to walk down the ramp.

After an icy walk to the car, I had to remove three inches of ice off of my car and broke the scraper half way through. I chopped the rest with my elbow.

The drive home took an hour and fifteen minutes instead of 35 minutes because of the road conditions.

I almost hit three deer.

We walked into the house at 2:45 AM.

Jack stayed home from school.

I went to work after four hours of sleep.

I still have a stye in my eye.

I hate NJ.

THE END

If yesterday was all about awe and excitement, today was about perseverance, determination and maybe a dash of insanity. This was the view from our car as we arrived in the parking lot at 8:00 AM this morning.

Not giving up on practice yet. Son won’t let me. #mets #mlb

A photo posted by john markowski (@jmarkowski0) on Feb 28, 2015 at 6:16am PST

As we drank our Starbucks (Decaf for the  little guy) and wolfed down our chocolate croissants in the rental car, the mood started to head downhill quickly. I then made the mistake of suggesting we take the two hour drive to Walt Disney World (only half joking). The look my son gave me would scare small children and I knew then we were in for the long haul.

By 9:00 or so, through the wonders of social media, we learned that practice was going to be canceled and that the players were going to work out inside the bowels of the complex, out of view of the public. Not good. 

In a move of desperation, I started tweeting directly to the players and posting all over Facebook, Instagram and Twitter under the hashtag #Mets in the hope that they would just say “C’mon inside you silly diehards, you loonies have proven your commitment to the team.”

That never happened.

But my son was still determined to not give up. While he wandered the grounds and peeked through the media gate, I started taking photos through the deluge. This pretty much summed up the vibe.        

A dreary day at the park today but big ups to the #Mets players who signed on their way out. A photo posted by john markowski (@jmarkowski0) on Feb 28, 2015 at 12:46pm PST

And this is where my son eventually settled in for about three hours, unaffected by the disappointing news.

Dude refuses to give up on #Mets spring training practice. Waiting for any glimpse of players. #mlb #lgm #baseball #determination

A photo posted by john markowski (@jmarkowski0) on Feb 28, 2015 at 8:16am PST

While so many gave up and left the park, our perseverance did eventually pay off as so many of the players graciously signed for Jack as they were leaving Tradition Field between noon and 2:00 PM.

Mets injured and former closer and all around good dude Bobby Parnell. The beard is even more incredible up close. 

Jack getting autograph from Bobby Parnell #mets A photo posted by john markowski (@jmarkowski0) on Feb 28, 2015 at 12:13pm PST

Mets current closer and entertaining character Jenrry Mejia. He was fantastic with the two young kids who were with us and like a superstar, sped out of the parking lot like a maniac.

Jenry Mejia granting Jack an autograph in the pouring rain. #Mets

A photo posted by john markowski (@jmarkowski0) on Feb 28, 2015 at 12:15pm PST

For a blogger like me, it was such a cool experience to meet and chat with famous Mets blogger, Matthew Cerrone. His award winning blog is entitled, shockingly, Mets Blog.

He has been a personal inspiration for me, and my son and I bond over every one of his posts. The Mets have finally embraced bloggers these past few years and we the fans are better off because of it.

Jack with our fave blogger, Matt Cerrone of MetsBlog. #Mets A photo posted by john markowski (@jmarkowski0) on Feb 28, 2015 at 12:17pm PST

Mets manager and all around good guy Terry Collins, was kind enough to stop as well.

Former Met, new member of the SNY team and all around cool guy Cliff Floyd made an appearance. We had actually sat behind Cliff at Chili’s the day before but chickened out and couldn’t approach him. This was a nice turn of events.

By 2:00 I was shot and told Jack I needed to sit down in the car. I need my food and missing lunch can take its toll. He was all like “go ahead old man, I’m sticking this out because I’m 12 and awesome and I know there are still players who haven’t left yet”.

Sure enough, Mets outfielder and Jack personal favorite Curtis Granderson emerged and signed for the last man standing, my damn cool son. After they exhanged pleasantries, Jack looked at me through the rain and through the car window with the shit eating grin that said “Now we can go.”

Tomorrow is our last day and as of this evening, the weather looks OK for the morning but then nasty again in the afternoon. We’re staying optimistic and hope to deliver more great news in the next post.

As I write this, I’m sitting in a hotel room in Port St Lucie, FL and my 12 year old son is asleep in the bed next to me. I wish I could just push the “life pause button” right now. He’s at that age of still being my little boy but displaying those great traits of maturing into his teenage years.

Sigh.

Other than the day he was born and I held him for the first time , we’ve never had a better moment together. And by moment, I mean the four hours we spent together this morning at the New York Mets spring training camp.

I am and have always been a huge baseball fan. I grew up watching every Mets game on TV with my dad. I still remember summer nights watching the small black and white TV we had on our screened in porch, hoping I’d never hear those words “Time for bed John”. The Mets were horrific in the late 70’s and early 80’s but I never cared. I just wanted to watch the theater of it all night.

My son’s passion for the game blows mine away. He knows every player in the league, their mother’s name and their Instagram handle. He knows all about the legends who played throughout the 20th century. He owns a hat from 22 of the 30 major league teams. He just recently taught me how to throw a knuckle curve ball. Most impressively, he has received 25+ autographed cards through the mail after sending each player a personalized hand written letter.

Having said all that, I’ve never seen him more prepared, more focused and more passionate than I saw him this morning. He had plans on how to get autographs and followed it to a tee. The sheer joy this typically quiet and laid back boy exuded today was worth every penny we paid for the trip. His smile and nervous excitement literally brought tears to my eyes. To watch my son follow his passion this young warms the heart and I can only hope he continues to do so in the future. Do what you love, do not worry about the money. Is it too soon to teach him that?

So as Jack painted Tradition Field red, I tried my best to document it all. Here are some photos from day 1 one of 3. If the next two days are half as good as today, we are in for more awesomeness.

The full squad meeting at the start of practice.

Mets ace Matt Harvey warming up surrounded by a massive group of onlookers. It is a thing of beauty to watch a pitcher of his caliber. That pop in the catcher’s glove is a true sound of spring.

Another Met stud pitcher of the future, Noah Syndergaard (aka Thor). Color me excited about the Mets future.

Highlight #1. Jack being interviewed for Mets Kids Clubhouse on SNY. He will be on an upcoming episode this season as he answered trivia and asked question of his favorite player, David Wright.

Highlight #2. Yes, that is the David Wright signing and somewhere buried in there is my son. The biggest score and I’m forever grateful for his patience with all of the loonies surrounding him.

That would be David Wright #mets #mlb

A photo posted by john markowski (@jmarkowski0) on Feb 27, 2015 at 7:56am PST

Highlight #3. Not only a signature from Daniel Murphy, but a pic for the ages.

I love watching the players interact with each other and talk about important things like batting gloves.

Newly acquired veteran Michael Cuddyer sharing his years of experience with some of the younger players, like Lucas Duda.

As a former bad catcher,  I couldn’t get enough of watching their drills. I have no idea how their knees survive the grind.

And there is that familiar swing again.

Yep, baseball is back.