Piazza’s Most Significant Home Run

Tonight, I head to Shea Stadium for another of 25 or so games I have the privelege to attend each year. If not for the date on the scoreboard, it might as well be just another game on the schedule. It’s not.

There will be cues around the stadium that today is September 11 and that six years ago something awful happened in New York City. I’m going to take the time to acknowledge those cues and to again remember where I was on that day and all of those I know, and those I’ve never laid eyes upon, whose lives were irrevocably changed by the events of those days.

I’ll also think about what sports were able to do, albeit for a brief moment, 10 days later that year. On that night, Mike Piazza helped New Yorkers become absorbed in something other than tragedy. Some have tagged it the greatest home run in New York Mets history. To all those in the crowd, it was simply unforgettable. As Piazza’s ball sailed over the centerfield wall, 41,000-plus gave themselves a moment to…well, lose themselves again. To embrace innocence. To be a fan – and nothing else.

Tonight’s game will be a reminder, in many ways, of just how small and insignificant a game is in the scheme of life. It will also serve to remind me just how large a role it can play in helping us escape.

I hope there’s never a game I attend on September 11th where it’s possible to ignore the date on the scoreboard. I also pray that no game will ever be able to provide the emotional solace that Mets/Braves contest delivered on September 21, 2001.