I just read the best thing ever written. It’s in the New York Times, and this is just a small snippet of a beautiful piece.
Sarah was 13 at the time of this second sucker punch, old enough to see how much it hurt. “He didn’t really talk about it with us, but I do remember him being incredulous.” He’d always love his Metsies — that’s what he always called them, the Metsies — but the franchise itself? That was more complicated. From then on, according to Sarah, “there was scar tissue.” Seaver grew up a few hours from Napa Valley and spent summers working at the raisin factory where his father was a vice president; his plan was to retire as a Metsie and live out his days making wine. The Mets bungled the first part, but he did get to spend his last two decades on Seaver Vineyards in Calistoga.
(via New York Times)