Sometimes people hold significance in your life without you ever even getting to meet them. New York Mets catcher, Gary Carter was one of those people. Sadly, today, at the age of 57, Gary Carter passed away from Cancer.
But let’s start with another kid. My first ever memory involves Gary Carter. Not my first sports memory mind you, but my first ever memory, period. Think back to the first thing you have stored up in your data bank. (Go ahead. Do it). When I do this, I remember my dad waking me up, carrying me to the living room, dropping me on the couch, and turning on a VCR. He had it all cued up at the right spot and pressed play. We sat and watched…
I actually might have lied. I suppose this wasn’t exactly my first memory. I actually recall the night before this happened. My dad was carrying on like a lunatic and jumping around the house… in excitement? - something he doesn’t ever do. I walked out into the living room confused, awoken by this madness. My mom yelled at him and told him to shut up (something that does happen often) and she put me back to bed.
Anyway, there I sat watching game 6 of the World Series on tape, where the Mets made an absolutely inexplicable comeback in the 10th inning with 2 outs and nobody on base. The Mets, a franchise who had previously been choke artists (and unfortunately ever since), went on to win the game because of a bunch of clutch hits all sparked by a guy named Gary Carter.
I knew absolutely nothing about sports or baseball. I didn’t really know much about anything. I was still new to basic things like walking and not peeing in my pants when I had too much juice — you know, the basic “I’m a new person” stuff. But there I sat with my dad watching something that was supposed to be important for whatever reason. It was important because my dad had the wherewithal to set up the VCR to record this as a precaution in the event that it could have happened. It was important because a million people in orange and blue outfits were absolutely freaking out on the TV when this guy named Gary Carter got a hit to keep the game and hope alive. It was important and as I grew up, I slowly began to realize why.
I’ve been a Mets fan my whole life, much to my misfortune. In fact, no team that I care about has ever won a championship besides that one time with the Mets. Go figure that my first memory was the peak of my sports fandom. And I could never explain why I stuck it out with these crappy teams every year, but I did. It wasn’t even as if there was a family legacy involved. I mean, I found out my dad was a Mets fan because when he moved to the United States, the Mets were so unbelievably bad that he was able to park his car for free in Shea Stadium’s lot by where he caught the train to Manhattan. He learned about the sport of baseball because the Mets sucked and he was cheap and could stop in for a free game after work.
Every year that the Mets lose (which is all of them), my Mets fan friends will commiserate and complain. Even on TV, the broadcasters commiserate and complain. They still talk about that ‘86 championship because it’s the only worthwhile thing to talk about. Year after year, I’ve learned more about the team and the players, and everything that went into winning that series. The Yankees win a championship every year and their fans probably can’t name any of the players. But we know all of our 86’ Mets like the back of our hands. And my favorite from the start was Gary Carter, the “kid” who sparked a rally.
I learned a lot about him over time from books, interviews, and appearances at games. He wasn’t your squeaky-clean image kind of guy. He could be a jackass at times, but he showed up to games and he played hard. Every game, he showed up and tried to win. He was the ultimate competitor, which is something I learned about through watching him. Playing catcher is a tough position. Catchers take a beating and don’t play every day. Carter damn well almost did, catching 90% of the games while with the Mets. Beaten, sore, bloodied… it didn’t matter. Win or lose. It didn’t matter. You could bet that Gary carter was going to dust himself off and get back into the game. And he was only there for one reason. He was there to compete - to try with all his heart. It was something he took seriously, but also something he loved doing. You can just tell by the way he played with a joy that’s seldom witnessed, particularly from a professional athlete. After all, this is why they called him “The Kid.”
In 1986, during game 6 of an extra inning playoff game against the Houston Astros, Mets reliever Jesse Orosco was throwing garbage and giving up walks and hits like it was charity. He was about to blow the season. Gary Carter called a time out and walked to the mound with Mets first baseman, Keith Hernandez. This was the perfect opportunity to pat his teammate on the back and say “it’s OK. We’ll get you through this.” Orosco immediately confided that his arm was spent and he had nothing left. Carter said “Well stop throwing your Goddamn fastball. They’re killing it.” Orosco confided that he thought it was all he had left and that’s what he was sticking with. Carter looked Orosco in the eye and told him “If you throw one more fastball, I’m going to call another timeout, come back to the mound and punch you in the fucking face.”
Orosco went with the slider and they won the game.
They went on to win World Series Game 6 because of Gary Carter. Because when all hope was lost with 2 outs in the bottom of the 9th inning, one man refused to be the last out in the season. Mets pitcher, Ron Darling frequently recalls this moment on Mets broadcasts, proudly saying that Carter just would not quit on himself, the team, or the fans. He told the guys in the dugout as much. He believed. He competed. He swung his bat and the team was alive. Then they were champions.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l3UXgwqlDAo - (Watch for yourself)
For the Mets fan, Gary Carter is our sports deity. In times of ultimate suffering, we always find ourselves saying, “Hey what about Gary Carter? Man, I wish he’d come back and coach the Mets.” In fact, every time a coaching vacancy came up, people would mention the guy. He was in his 50s and hadn’t ever coached pro ball before, but fans and reporters always threw his name into the mix. Somehow he was always involved in the rumor mill because we loved the guy so damn much.
Since that morning on the couch as a toddler, sports stars have come and gone and I couldn’t really claim to have ever had a sports “hero.” It’s not because none of them won anything. I just didn’t find any reason to be impressed by any of them. Mike Piazza comes close I suppose. But there was always Gary Carter. I really found something to identify with when it came to the way he went about things. Growing up and being able to look back on how he played the game, something just stuck with me: He just… played so damn hard.
I’m a fierce competitor. Everything I do, I try to win. Sometimes it gets on people’s nerves, but it’s not even like I’m trying to be a jerk. My sister hasn’t played a video game against me since I let her win when she was 10. Not one game since. (I let you win by the way, if you’re out there reading. If you honestly think my jet ski would magically veer off course 40 times in a race, you’re a complete fool). Last summer, I was taking part in helping run this leadership academy for teens and I was scoring goals in hockey like a boss, much to the chagrin of some of my fellow staff members. But I was one of the 5 players on the field of play for my team. If I’m not out there trying to score, I’m a detriment to everyone else wearing my jersey and what the hell is the point then? if you’re supposed to lead by example then you’d better be out there trying your best.
Former Jets head coach Herman Edwards is famous for saying:. “You play to win the game.”
But the “game” isn’t really all about winning, is it? I never thought so. It’s more… about trying to win the game. It’s about perseverance. There are days I wake up, reeling from a tough loss. Things could have gone bad at work, a girlfriend could have broken up with me, maybe someone I cared about let me down. What am I supposed to do - give up on life or do I dust myself off and keep trying?
In the lexicon of baseball “who’s whos” names stand out like Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig. These names are synonymous with the best hitters of all time. Still, the best hitters of all time only got hits 3 out of every 10 times they stepped up to the plate. Gary Carter was one of these people meaning he failed way more than he succeeded. But check out a clip of him playing and see the joy that he played with. He played for those 3 hits and he dusted himself off the other 7. This isn’t just how Gary Carter played the game of baseball; this was the portrait of how a man should live his life.
Life is all about the effort that you put into it. If you go into any endeavor without the heart, then there’s no point in even showing up at all. It took me a long time to learn this lesson, but my first memory taught me the value of “effort.” One man can prolong an at bat, stretch out an inning, pick up his team, put a city on his shoulders, and inspire people he’ll never meet. If you compete, believe, and have fun while doing it, it doesn’t really matter how many times you strike out. “The Kid” taught me that if we have the right outlook on life, we could all be kids at heart.
It’s because of people like Gary Carter that I never became a Yankees fan. You never jump ship on the things you care about. Sure, there are times when that’d be easy. It goes through my mind every time I see the Yankees win the World Series. But I remember how excited my dad was that one time when Gary Carter crossed home plate. That of all things to show me were important it was that moment that needed to be passed down. (I still have the VHS tape by the way. (There’s an episode of “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” after it.) The sweet is only sweet because of the sour. Those other 7 at bats made those 3 hits all the better. And in that line of thinking, just imagine how sweet it’ll be when the Mets finally win again.
Gary Carter was diagnosed with Brain Cancer not too long ago and like he did in every other aspect of his life, he competed until the end. That’s a tough diagnosis to bear, but he did. And while he fought on, he was able to see just how much he meant to the people he affected during his life. Fans’ letters, stadium tributes, family at his side… He even had teammate Ron Darling appear in an emotional “Stand Up to Cancer” commercial on his behalf, which Darling spoke of today for the first time — saying Carter texted him from his bed when he saw it on TV and was brought to tears. He honestly didn’t know anyone cared. People did.
The truth is that you can’t always win and our time on Earth is finite. But you can play your ass off and try with every moment you’ve got while you’ve got it. And if you’re not trying, then you’re not really alive. And thanks to #8, we can have faith that if we keep swinging at whatever’s thrown at us, at some point we’re going to get that big hit.
