BRONX, NY – Tonight marks the opening of the 2026 Major League Baseball season, as the Yankees take on the Giants in San Francisco. And, just as God intended, the game will be broadcast on Netflix. You’ll excuse me if a mostly-meaningless inter-league game being shown on platform known for shows and movies doesn’t exactly get the baseball purist in me excited. If I’m going to Netflix, it’s for Derry Girls and not Aaron Boone’s Boys. Anyway the real season, at least for me, opens tomorrow in Flushing when the Mets host the Pirates at 1:15 EST. Let’s talk about that for a second.
For many years, when the Mets still played at that concrete monolith we called Shea Stadium, I was part of a group that regularly made it to Opening Day. It started when I was a kid and the home opener almost always featured Mets/Phillies and the classic matchup of Tom Seaver vs. Steve Carlton. Back then, with those guys on the hill, one or two runs was often good enough to win. But the annual Opening Day pilgrimage really ramped up—and became something of a National Holiday—when my brother Chris got Mets season tickets in the mid-’80s. He and I would drive out ridiculously early and set up his equally ridiculous tiny hibachi in the parking lot. Over the next hours a colorful cast of characters would show up for the meager, but tons-of-fun Opening Day tailgate party. Lots of laughs, and more than a few Budweisers, were had by all.
That great tradition pretty much came to an end when the Mets moved to Citi Field and booted my brother out of his great seats (Loge Section 8) and up into the nosebleeds by the left field foul pole. He stuck it out for a year with the new seats, but we both knew it wasn’t the same. As some of you know, Chris passed away back in late September of 2024, right before the Mets made their somewhat magical run to the NLCS. I received so many texts during those playoffs. Most said something along the lines of “Oh man, your brother would be loving this!” And he would have. But it was Opening Day that always held a special place in his heart. It was his favorite, a yearly rebirth for a guy that only really liked baseball and idolized the Mets.
So, when Freddy Peralta takes the mound tomorrow and throws that first pitch, I’ll be thinking of my brother and all of our friends and the great times we had on Opening Day. It’s supposed to be a nice warm day too… they weren’t always. I don’t suppose anyone has an extra ticket? Short Matt? You’ve got 24 hours to suit up, reach out, and make a Mets miracle happen.
