A WRESTLER REMEMBERS THE HEALING POWERS OF BASEBALL

 A WRESTLER REMEMBERS THE HEALING POWER OF BASEBALL

I was headed out the door on September 21, 2001 – only ten days after the worst attack ever on United States soil. My wife called out to me, asking me to come back for just a moment before I took my two kids, ages 9 and 7, and a family friend to Shea Stadium, for the first major athletic event in New York since that terrible day when the towers fell, and the world as many of us knew it changed forever.
“Do you have to take both children”, she asked, her voice shaking, telling me, without actually saying it, that she was afraid of what might come next – that she would be a widow and the mother of no one by night’s end. Looking back on it, ten years later, it may seem like an over-reaction, but at the time, no one knew what to expect. Ten days after the terrorist attacks of 9/11, asking me to leave one of my children at home seemed like a perfectly logical request, given the fear and uncertainty of the time and the place. I think just about all of us living in the US felt that another attack was just a question of “when”, not “if”, and New York’s Shea Stadium, on the night of baseball's return to the Big Apple was in no way an unlikely place for that inevitable next attack.
So I left out house with just one of my children, along with a friend of mine since middle school, weaving our way through traffic and uncertainty to take our place with the other 42,000 souls who felt strongly enough about being part of the delicate process of rebuilding a nation’s shattered psyche to celebrate the return of baseball to the big city.
The Mets have been good to me over the years, and they offered me the choice of sitting in pretty good seats in the loge section behind home plate, or sitting in the outfield with police and firemen from around the country – men who had left the safety of their own homes to sift through rubble around the clock, in the hopes of finding remains of those whose lives had been lost. For me, there didn't seem to be a choice at all. I wanted to be able to express my appreciation for the sacrifices so many had made down at Ground Zero. For many of these men, the game offered a first chance to relax since arriving in New York; a chance to press a figurative pause button on a seemingly never-ending real life episode of heartbreak and tragedy.
Under normal circumstances, I watch over my children like a hawk at these sporting events. But on this night, there was no malice to be found among the fans, no pettiness; despite the fact that the Mets were taking on their arch-rivals, the Atlanta Braves, there seemed to be no likelihood of drunken shenanigans or loutish behavior ruining the night. So as I mingled with the police and the firefighters, I let my son sit and enjoy the game without worrying too much about the little guy. No one was going to hurt him in those outfield seats; in an odd juxtaposition, on this dangerous night, with so much uncertainty surrounding all of us, my son had in some ways, never been safer.
Mike Piazza hit a towering home run to lift the Mets to a dramatic and emotional 3-2 victory that night, but for me, the most dramatic, most emotional moment of the evening took place one inning earlier - with the singing of “God Bless America”. Usually a seventh inning stretch and that old stretch stand-by “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” signals a massive exodus to the restroom; a chance to relieve the body of whatever fluids have been downed, before taking in the last few innings of play. But on this night, with “God Bless” filling in, the stretch became an opportunity for 42,000 to sing along in a way they probably had not previously, and likely never would again. It was powerful, emotional, real – and unfortunately, destined to be short-lived.
Ten years later, the stretch is far more likely to appeal to beer drinkers and urinal seekers, than it is to those seeking out the transformative powers of a mass sing-a-long during a time of national mourning. A nation brought together by tragedy was quickly strained by politics and posturing, leaving this wrestler/writer to wonder what could have been if the better angels of our nature had been allowed a little more time to roam freely, to seek out the things we had in common, instead of being led into focusing on those things that tend to push us apart.
I still sing “God Bless America” at the two or three ballgames I go to a year. My son is 19 now and he thinks I do it as a joke, as a way to embarrass him in public. Maybe I do sing it a little too loud, and maybe I do put a little extra “Leslie Nielson as Enrique Palazzo” zest into my rendition. But there’s part of me that sings it loud to make up for those who have departed for the beer stand or the urinal, or for who just don’t understand the role a simple song played in healing this particular American. Ten years after one of the saddest days in our nation’s history, I choose to remember that spirit of bother-hood and togetherness I found in the outfield of Shea Stadium – a special night, when I saw so much about what makes this nation great.

Comments

[Rory]

Nice story Mick. It is a shame that the good will didn't last longer. It was such a strong period in the history of the US.

[Donna J Bean]

Thank you for sharing a personal and private story with us Mick. It seems to me our patriotism level was at an all time high, however as the years have progressed I believe now that Saddam and Bin Laden *sorry if mispelt* are gone people are gonna be too comfortable and I'm afraid of a repeat.

[Ariel]

Hi, Mick. Its songs like those that always give me chills at any kind of event, so I'd imagine at that game it was a warm moment at such a cold time... 9/11 was a scary day definitely and being only 8 at the time, I didn't have any clue what everyone was freaking out about. I still remember actually, after my mom picked me up from school, looking up with worried eyes and asking, "but we're still having tacos for dinner tonight, right?" To her, it was a good moment mainly because it took her mind off things and made her laugh, haha, but now, I cringe thinking about it... I guess it was a good thing I wasn't as aware at the time.

Anyway, I definitely agree about the specialness that followed after 9/11 in events such as those... and the pride of everyone in the country. The city was such a different place months after, especially wandering around downtown Manhatten but you could feel the brotherhood and the warmth between people that you usually don't feel walking the streets there.

Crazy how its been ten years, it seems like yesterday...

[Robert Egan]

God bless the lives lost, & their loved ones left behind. That was the only real positive of the events of that day, the patriotism. It seems now its been lost & only comes out again on the anniversaries. Ill never forget that day and how we as americans were one. Mick your a phenominal writer. May God bless us all.

[Brian Delpozo]

That's a great story Mick. I was 13 on 9/11, at an awkward age where I was old enough to grasp what happened, but still innocent enough to see it in a childish way, and Yankees baseball was an integral part of getting me through it. I felt/still feel the same way about baseball after 9/11. Even as a very liberal person, I still stand for God Bless America every time I'm at Yankee Stadium. It's my own little way to pay tribute to everyone lost 10 years ago today.

[Joe Manno]

America. At that time was 1 whole faamily and everyone was helping whoever they can . 1 year later things go back to normal and people just stop caring and start worrying about themselfs ..

[ZAH]

Love the "Naked Gun" reference.

[Jo]

Reading that made me cry.It is so hard now to explain these things to my own kids who are 9 and 7.

[Brendan Fix]

I remember thinking this game was the first moment, if only for a moment, that we snapped out of the rut that we were driven into on the 11th. The news tickers were running through my mind even when I mustered the courage to switch the channel or, god forbid. turn the television off. I lived relatively close to an airport. The incoming airliners would lower their landing gear right above my house. Early in the morning before the neighborhood rose, or late at night after we made our way to bed, if you listened too closely, the sound of the landing gear, the knowledge of the massive aircraft above you, thrust you back to that morning. Then the Mets and Piazza, and yes even the Braves, reminded the world that life still existed. New York City was struggling, but okay. The planes above my house were landing safely, not crashing. Nightmares of soldiers in the streets were mere figments of my damaged imagination. I can see the opening ceremony of that game, the firefighters and police officers on the field and in the stands, and even the Piazza homer. That game brought wells of tears to my eyes and not because of the normal reason the Mets bring tears to my eyes.
Thank You Mick Foley for sharing your story
Thank You Mets and Mike PIazza for being great that day
Thank You New York!

[Dalton Bodie]

Wow Mick. That's an amazing/inspiring story. I didn't realize you were a writer, and wrestler. I'm a wrestler too.

[fc]

this is awesome. thank you

[Bryan]

Hey Mick,

Have you seen HBO's documentary 9 Innings from Ground Zero? They're playing it quite a bit right now (for obvious reasons), but it looks at the connection between baseball, healing and New York. This game is an early focus of the film, with the World Series that followed the focus of most of the rest.

[Janette]

Thank you for sharing, Mick. It'd be nice if we could carry the unity around like we're supposed to carry the feeling of Christmas around each day. I'm not a New Yorker but my first trip to New York was when I was 3 months old so my mom and dad could go to a wrestling event at Madison Square Garden (at the time they didn't let anyone under 13 or 18 in.) As a family we had gone to New York every single year until 2001, we were there in April. Unfortunately, I haven't had the funds to come back. I refuse to call Ground Hero Ground Zero, to me, it will always and forever be Ground Hero.

... And as for baseball, I'll be tuning in to the Phillies game later on :)

[Chris McQuade]

Hey Mick, I messaged you before when I read Scooter. I have had Tietam Brown for quite some time, but like to savor books that I know will be good. I just read the restaurant scene. I just want you to know that once again it's a great, well written, an funny book. I have to say Mick, that for a big, burley wrestling guy, you can write a convincing romance scene with the best of them. Well done, my friend.
-Chris.

[job hunting blog]

Well, this was really such a nice article. I do really wanted to put more comments in here. Great!