Pulling an "Uppa"

My dad, z'l, was big Mets fan. While he liked going to the ball park occasionally, he liked getting out of the parking lot quickly more than anything. Whether the Mets won or lost was second in importance to whether he got back on to the Van Vyck quickly. So, as my brother once quipped, growing up we thought that Major League games only went 7 innings.

So, last night he and I went to Shea with OYD and her friend. And a dreadful game it was. Tom Glavine was essentially pitching batting practice and after one half inning the Mets were down 4-0. It got worse. In the top of the seventh, down 6-3, the Mets brought in Sosa who promptly game up two more runs. My brother and I, who each inherited my father's distaste for lines, etc., decided we had seen enough. The girls did not seem to care so we left after the Mets batted in the 7th.

As my brother described it, we "pulled an Uppa" (Uppa being the name that all his grandchildren, and then his children, called my dad).

There were smiles on our faces as we got onto the Van Wyck in less than five minutes.

We were home in plenty of time to see the Mets make a valiant, but unsuccessful, effort to come back, scoring six in the ninth but losing 10-9.

Uppa would have been proud.