My 9 Saddest Baseball Experiences

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Summary

A look back on nine of the saddest moments that have stuck with me through my years as a baseball fan.

As a baseball fan of over 35 years, I’ve experienced thrilling victories and heartbreaking losses that still linger in my memory. Of the saddest experiences I’ve had as a fan of baseball for over 35 years. Perhaps you’ve got your own saddest moments. If so, these might pale in comparison to yours, but to me, these stick out.

I’ve got another post about sad moments in baseball. Specifically, the moments cover sad moments that could apply to most fans. Feel free to take a look at it: 10 of the Saddest Moments in Major League Baseball History

From enduring gut-wrenching playoff defeats with my favorite teams to getting lost in an unfamiliar neighborhood outside of a stadium, here are nine of the most poignant moments from my journey as a baseball fan:


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1. Player Too Busy For Autograph

I think I was 17 or 16. One of my favorite memories growing up as a baseball fan is watching legendary players come out of Yankee Stadium after a game. This happened for the first time in 1985. The clubhouse exit was next to the parking lot, and through the years I got to see some of baseball’s greatest players. On this one day, I hadn’t actually attended the game but instead was watching it on TV. I left my home, knowing that it would be likely that the game would be over by then and I could wait for my favorite players to come out. I got to see tons of players exiting the clubhouse. One in particular, unfortunately, didn’t have enough time to give me an autograph as he was in a rush. The player wasn’t rude. It was clear from his quick pace that he was genuinely in a rush, not trying to brush me off or anything like that. I felt a bit disappointed about the fact that I couldn’t get an autograph, and at that age, perhaps I hadn’t been as forgiving a person because I was young. But still a sad moment.


2. Getting Lost Outside of the Stadium

In September 1993, I got to visit my first baseball stadium outside of New York City. The name of the place was Joe Robbie Stadium, former home of the Florida Marlins. On that day, they were playing the Los Angeles Dodgers. I decided to go to that game solo. I got to see many of my favorite players for both teams, including former Mets who were now on the Dodgers team. After the game, I stood outside at the stadium where I’d been told players might come out, and to my amazement and surprise got to see quite a few players. I stayed until Ramón Martínez, the phenomenal pitcher for the Florida Marlins and brother of Pedro Martínez, Hall of Famer who also played for the Mets years later. After the game, I wandered off outside of the stadium and ended up lost. I honestly think to this day that I was lucky. I approached someone working on his car outside of his home and asked if he could take me to the nearest gas station. At first, he was reluctant but then took me there. From there, the owner of the gas station drove me straight to my university.


3. Injuring Myself Just Before All-Star

In 1988, I was chosen by my teammates and manager to play in our Little League All-Star game. I was thrilled as this was the second time in three years that I’d been picked to participate in the event. Sadly, during one game I injured myself, rupturing my hamstring, on the run to first base. It is, to this day, one of the most painful injuries I’ve experienced. Right after the game, I was informed that I’d been selected to the All-Star, which only made me feel worse. I was told that it would take place a week later—nowhere near enough time for the injury to fully heal. I sat out most of that crucial game, only stepping in as a pinch hitter late in the innings, where I managed to draw a walk. The pain was still there, but I decided to take the risk. Fortunately, I didn’t have to run, which could have aggravated the injury. The combination of the injury and being unable to fully participate in the All-Star game makes it one of the saddest baseball moments of my life.


4. Watching Mets Lose 1988 NLCS

The 1988 World Series loss to the Dodgers is one of my most painful baseball memories. I can still vividly recall Howard Johnson making the final out by striking out. Then I see him looking down before heading to the bench. Two things make it particularly sad for me. The first is that the series went seven games, so they were close to making it to the Fall Classic, yet were outperformed by the Dodgers. The second is, this occurred in a visiting stadium, so the raucousness of the crowd as the team clinched the win was painful. They say that silence is painful, but I personally would have preferred them to lose at Shea. The memory of their loss still haunts me.


5. My Favorite Broadcaster’s Death

If I told you I’d watch baseball every day, I’d be lying. I also don’t get to read, hear, or see much of the baseball news unless I purposefully search for it. I was saddened by Tim McCarver’s death a year and a half ago. I found out about this a month later. Tim McCarver was one of the greatest broadcasters ever to call games. His analysis and interesting tales while broadcasting, as well as his expertise, brought something special. He paired well with Ralph Kiner, who sadly as well passed away. Kiner was older than McCarver. His death too was painful, but somehow, I thought to myself, he’s lived a very long life. McCarver seemed to have a youthfulness within him as well and I miss him. McCarver also responded through his assistant when I wrote one of my first to anyone emails to anyone, in 1998. I believe I’d asked him a question about his favorite wine, and to my pleasant surprise, I received a reply. He will be dearly missed by me and all the Mets fans who found his broadcasting both entertaining and informative.


6. The Cubs’ Loss in the 2003 NLCS

This was painful for every Cubs fan. The team had been in the playoffs since 1998. Prior to that, it had been 1989, but they hadn’t reached the World Series since 1908. Watching this game, like every fan, I thought that the Cubs would at least hold on, that the team would finally make it. And the beauty of it would be that they’d meet the Yankees in the World Series. Both teams are storied franchises, and it would be just as thrilling for me to watch them play against each other as it was when the Mets met the cross-town rivals. But, alas, the 8th inning was tragic as the Marlins came back, seemingly out of nowhere, to take the game and eventually win the National League pennant.


7. My Last Game At St. Mary’s Park

March 1995 was the last time I ever played baseball, as far as putting on a uniform and playing on a field. This park, located in the Bronx, is where I’d spend weekend summer days watching my uncle play. It is for him that I have a love of baseball when in the 1980s, he introduced me to the Mets, one of the dominant teams of the decade. The very first at-bat, I got hit. It wasn’t painful. In fact, it didn’t hurt at all. I proceeded to first base, and then a batter later ended up on third. The inning would soon end moments later, and little did I know that it would be the last time I ever played a game. It was also around the time of the MLB strike, so we faced as fans the possibility of not seeing baseball that year, and that sort of added to the air of sadness to this whole event of me playing for the last time.


8. Darryl Strawberry’s Departure To Another Team

Darryl Strawberry leaving the New York Mets for the Los Angeles Dodgers was and is still one of the saddest moments for me. However, not as sad as one would think, as eventually he would end up back in New York City, and even though I’m not as great a fan of the Yankees as I am of the Mets, he helped propel that team to greatness during the 1990s, taking them from a team that wasn’t so great to one that would win four World Series in five years.


9. 1994 Strike

I still can’t shake the memory of the 1994 strike from me. That year must have been particularly sad for Montreal Expos fans, as the team at the time of the strike was in first place and had its most serious chance of being in the playoffs since the 1981 season. This strike is especially sad for me as it happened right in the middle of summer, when baseball seems to be at its height. We wouldn’t see baseball again with regular players until April of the next year, so essentially we were all left nine months without baseball. A sad time I will never forget.


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