A Reason To Smile

You have to at least smile for him, you know? Even if you hate him, even if you thought Bud’s effort was Herculean, you have to smile just a little for Barry. Right when he hit it he knew. He dropped his bat and watched with his hands raised as the ball fell into the mob of hometown fans willing to kill for it.

His son tried to steal the spotlight from him as he waited at homeplate for his dad to round the celebratory bases. His son waited with a smile, as I did, for his dad to come and pick him up like McGwire did his overstuffed son. But when Barry got there he barely acknowledged his seed, and then raised his hands again to the firework filled night sky, presumably pointing to his dad way up there in the atmosphere.

And that’s why I have to at least smile for him. Because he owned that spotlight tonight. Steroids or no, he owned that spotlight and he wouldn’t let anyone take it from him, not even his son, who if you didn’t know it was him looked more like a regular bat boy with no familial relation to Barry and his brightness.

The endless conversations begun a long time ago about whether or not he was juiced like Jose, and they will drag on forever, like the debate as to whether or not Ricky Davis should be retroactively awarded a triple double from March 16^th, 2003 against the Jazz. A rebound is a rebound, right?

I did smile tonight when I saw the replay (the game was blacked out in DC because somehow we DC residents were supposed to be in San Francisco in the bleachers brawling for that ball rather then just simply watching it on TV like everyone else in the country…because those famed Nats fans are so well known for their traveling…) of Barry smashing it over the wall. Finally. FINALLY he did it. Finally the conversation can at least think about dying, we can begin the funeral procession towards a future that doesn’t revolve around every Barry-at-bat.

I feel refreshed, like I can breathe again, like I can resume my love affair with Matt Stairs-sightings. He too was looking to take a swing at history tonight when he bum-rushed A-Rod only to be cut short by a bigger, brawnier Yankee. The last time I saw Matt Stairs was when I used him to win the homerun derby in All-Star Baseball 99 for Playstation 2. Thank God he still has a goatee.

So, no matter what you feel towards Barry and his polarizing shot that landed in a glorious Mets’ fan’s hands, you can find a reason to smile at homerun 756. Unless of course, it comes out that Matt Stairs uses Rogaine for that facial hair, then we should all be pissed.