Mets Detox Day Four: A Lil’ Chop on the Water

It was bound to be difficult given this was the first game since last Friday that almost demanded I tune in. An early weeknight showdown? I mean, c’mon, what else are you going to do when you get home at 8:30 on a Tuesday night? I was already dreading it and questioning my willpower when I left the office slightly after 8. Little did I know, this night was about to become even more challenging.

Turns out my buddy (and former roommate) who is now attending graduate school dropped a line just as I hopping in a cab to head home. He asked if I wanted to meet for a drink around my place. Good news: hadn’t seen my boy in awhile and was glad I could do it last-minute. Bad news: he is among the small crew of my friends that are fervent Mets fans. To choose a bar not showing sports was barely an option and to go out of my way to do so would be downright selfish.

So, you can guess what happened next. A few minutes later…in a bar, my back turned defiantly away from the big-screen on SNY. While I knocked back a few redwhite&blues, my buddy, fully aware of my uncomfortable predicament (by the way, he may not approve but completely understands the drastic detox move), did his best to signal game progress by facial expressions alone. It’s tough to fight an addiciton when your vice is staring you in the face, or, in this case, lurking right behind you.

Eventually, I escaped no worse for wear having been in the same vicinity of my vice and still resisted its lure. Not only did I not take a puff, I didn’t even inhale the second-hand smoke in a feeble effort to get a cheap high — although I did think about it. Oh yes, the Mets apparently beat the vaunted Orioles of Baltimore. I still prefer rehab. Tomorrow is another day…wish me continued luck. I have a feeling this is only going to get harder.