posted on Apr, 6 2009 @ 02:04 PM
reply to post by lombozo
Here's a semi-interesting story ...
I was 16 years old in late August 1984. My mother had met my now step-father, she fell in love with him and decided to move me to the US from Greece
where I was then living.
I had never been here, I didn't know a soul, or anything about this country. I had only been speaking passable English for a couple of years.
I land at JFK but my mother got stuck at work and couldn't come to pick me up. So I get in a cab and go to the apartment where she had luckily left
the keys with the doorman.
I walk in, put my bags down, sit on the couch and turn on the tv.
The channel it was on was WWOR 9 and there was this thing on with people with funny tight clothes, a stick, and a big fat guy dressed in black.
Couldn't figure out what I was watching but I couldn't stop watching it, if only to try and figure it and this country out.
To this day I remember the first batter I saw was a washed up George Foster clinging to the end of his career. Then I saw Keith Hernandez smoking in
the dugout and I was sold.
I fell in love with the game, the mets, and eventually with this country itself.
What a strange and cool way to experience the US for the first time.