Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

As I was walking down the street one day
A man came up to me and asked me what the time was that was on my watch, yeah
And I said…

Does anybody really know what time it is (I don’t)
Does anybody really care (care about time)
If so I can’t imagine why (no, no)
We’ve all got time enough to cry

Andrew Cuomo’s office had to send regular reminders about what day it was.

The last live sporting event I attended was on March 4th of 2020. A few short day later, our city went into lockdown.

The world ended. And I needed sports. At a time when I needed a distraction from what was going on <gestures wildly> out there, I didn’t have one for several months.

Shit, Governor Cuomo at one point had to post pictures at his press conferences reminding us of the day of the week.

So slowly but surely things returned. It wasn’t normal – far from it – since we couldn’t attend live games. But baseball started in July. Basketball restarted and ended not too long ago (only to restart just a few weeks ago). Hockey finished up their season. We are just a few days away from the 2021 season starting.

According to Rob Manfred, the baseball season is expected to start on time.

As for me? I still think it’s fucking June.

And I was walking down the street one day
A pretty lady looked at me and said her diamond watch had stopped cold dead
And I said…

Does anybody really know what time it is (I don’t)
Does anybody really care (care about time)
If so I can’t imagine why (no, no)
We’ve all got time enough to cry

When you’ve carved out a lot of your life around sports, 2020 was a year that was just all sorts of fucked up.

I spend a lot of my summers traveling to baseball stadiums, and originally, I had planned to visit four stadiums in total. None of it happened. I did get to Cooperstown, spiritual home of baseball. Even if I do have ulterior motives in getting to the nearby cider mill for goodies when I visit.

My last live sporting event was a sport where I don’t even have a team I really follow. I say I am a Jazz fan, only because I used to love John Stockton, and my husband is also a big fan (simply a coincidence, along with the other sports teams we follow). (Bring the Sonics back, and we’ll talk about my team loyalties)

Weird shit happened along the way. The Marlins were the team to beat in the NL East (well one of them anyway…certainly not 2019 World Champs Washington Nationals, as we thought they might be).

The Seahawks let Russ cook until apparently Brian Schottenheimer got food poisoning. At least nobody got COVID-19.

Two Los Angeles based teams won championships in their respective sports.

And my teams kept disappointing me one way or another.

Things were weird, but they were also strangely familiar.

And I was walking down the street one day (people runnin’ everywhere)
Being pushed and shoved by people (don’t know where to go)
Trying to beat the clock, oh, no I just don’t know (don’t know where I am)
I don’t know, I don’t know, oh (don’t have time to think past the last mile)
(Have no time to look around) And I said, yes I said (run around and think why)

It’s tough to be a sports fan now. Sure, we have social media that ties us, but it’s tough to believe that it’s only been a year since the last time we watched a Seahawks game at Carlow East. It seems much longer than that.

We are still in a holding pattern regarding attending actual games.

The hockey season started on Wednesday, and the Rangers play their first game tonight. There is still no Captain on the team, but alternate Mika Zibanejad is uncertain for the opener.

Now we are about to start yet another sport with COVID still being an issue, when we hear about New Zealand having concerts and shit. We do not know when and if we can attend live sporting events anytime soon. The vaccine is rolling out now, for a disease that didn’t exist 16 months ago. Shit is weird.

We are stuck in a perpetual Pandemic Groundhog’s Day, which apparently we can only get out of if we better ourselves. We are making incremental moves at making ourselves better to get out of this vicious cycle…if only to hold out for another week where we might be able to see some progress, finally.

Does anybody really know what time it is (I don’t)
Does anybody really care (care about time)
If so I can’t imagine why (no, no)
We’ve all got time enough to die

In the meantime, the team that always sets me up for disappointment is shockingly not doing that. The same day many of us danced in the streets to a more modern tune of “Happy Days Are Here Again,” the Mets were sold to a new ownership group. I’d say the ownership group is headed up by Steven Cohen…but honestly, I think we are just happy, again, because the owner no longer is related to, whether by blood or marriage, to Fred Wilpon. Drink up!

For the first time in my Mets fandom, we have an owner who takes an active interest in what the fans are looking for, what the fans want. Because he IS a fan; not some nostalgic for the Brooklyn Dodgers fan, and the Mets are a fine substitute.

He asks about what kind of things we’d want to see at the stadium. But it’s not fluff: the Mets also just pulled off a blockbuster trade to bring some of the most exciting players in baseball to Queens.

It’s funny what love for a sport and money can do. Happy Days Are Here Again, indeed.

Everybody’s working (I don’t care)
I don’t care (about time)
About time (no, no)
I don’t care

As I write this, MSG Network is replaying one of the best games I have watched in my lifetime: the Zibanejad five goal game on March 5, 2020. The world ended shortly after that. I held onto hope after that game; that the Rangers would be viable players in a play-in for the playoffs that occurred over the summer. Not only did they lose, they also lost Henrik Lundqvist.

Henrik Lundqvist shortly after that signed with the Capitals; only to be diagnosed with a heart issue that required surgery. His return is uncertain; more championship hopes dashed as well. Yes, I know; his health is more important.

In the middle of death, we still realize that life is truly fleeting.

Which is why we need sports as a distraction; now, more than ever. I may still think it’s still June, even though the weather suggests otherwise, and the date on the calendar says January 14th. It’s the 32nd anniversary of my first ever Rangers game. It’s also Opening Night for the 2021 season.

I may get my dates and years mixed up; but I’ll know the time is 7pm when the puck drops.

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