There are times when a sport becomes more than simple form of entertainment or distraction from the mundane. Occasionally, the sport becomes a vehicle for the reaffirmation of one's personal philosophical and ideological values. That transformation from sport to sanctimonious phenomenon happened during lat night's Mets triumph. Witness.
As the ever-polite first baseman Ike Davis scooped up Ruben Tejada's well-intentioned but off-centered throw to first, the humble closer of the Metropolitans began to celebrate. As demure and unassuming as always, K-Rod cautiously raised his arms and pointed to the sky in an act of pure reverence for the Higher Powers. With whiskers from his great beard blowing in the Philadelphia smog, an obvious homage to other wise bearded thinkers like Socrates or Thoreau, you could almost hear his silent expression of gratitude from the press box.
After ungrateful rookie Domonic Brown ended the game with a strikeout, the Mets assembled towards the middle of the field to congratulate one another on their hard-fought and well deserved victory. Hands were shaken. Gluteus maximus muscles were tapped gently in a non-homosexual manner. If any of the players had been Asian, I'm sure bowing would have been in order. Two meek celebrators even did a jumping, mid-air, side-touching routine. How novel!
These unpretentious, almost deferential forms of rejoicing exhibited by the Mets was refreshing for this writer, who had previously been bombarded with patronizing, pontificating, pompous, pretentious Phillies.
Games like these are proof to those who believe that baseball, like life, is won by playing the game the right way. The proper way. Where the audacious and the ostentatious can be replaced with the unobtrusive and the acquiescent with equal or great results.
Thank you Mets. Because of you, sports fans can look forward to today's game not only for the thrill of competition, but for the satisfaction of a life affirmed.
And thank you K-Rod. I guess sometimes closers save more than games. They can save sports as a whole from the destructive grips of Philadelphian arrogance.