For eight years, Mike Piazza gave to the fans of New York.  He gave us his tremendous bat, his heart, his leadership and perhaps most-importantly he gave us a reason to believe we could win again. When he walked to the plate last night for his first at bat since departing, a capacity crowd at Shea and millions of fans at home applauded him.  With pride in our hearts, great memories in our head and lumps in our collective throats, we joined as one to let Mike Piazza know what he meant to us.  The ovation was deafening and emotional and clearly touched Piazza.   As a long-time fan, it was an incredibly special moment.  After taking all Mike Piazza gave over his eight seasons, it was New York’s turn to give back.  And it felt good.

I was in the stands for two huge Piazza moments.  The second was far more enjoyable than the first.  The first of these moments was in 2000 when Piazza dug his spikes in to bat against Roger Clemens in Yankee Stadium.  The ball left Clemens’ hand and in the space of an instant, shot Like a heat-seeking missile right into Piazza’s head.   I clearly remember the sound the ball made when it blasted into Piazza’s helmet….. it was a loud crack, like when bat meets ball.  A moment later Piazza was on his back and a million Met fans saw the season pass before their eyes.  Fortunately for Piazza, and for us fans, Mike survived to play another day.  Survived to have the razor-sharp shard of a bat thrown at him by the same pitcher three months later. 

My Second "Piazza Moment" took place at that first Met Game after 9/11 which I attended with my friend Will.  It was the first baseball game in New York after the attack and New York was a changed-place.  Sharing a level of patriotism never felt before, a feeling of bonding in a time of horror, a sense of “Us-New Yorkers-will-get-through-this-together, 54,000+ came to Shea on September 21^st wanting to feel like life was normal again, if even for a few hours.  When Marc Anthony started to sing the Star Spangled Banner, I sang along.  I sang like it was the last song I’d ever sing.   By the second verse I was too overwhelmed with emotion to continue.  I joined back in at “...home of the brave.”  The Mets were down 2-1 to Atlanta in the 8^th when Piazza stepped to the plate.  There was a tremendous sense of anticipation when he set himself in the batters box.  This was our chance.  As if lifting the entire city on his back, Piazza hit one far and deep into the night and the place just erupted as the Mets took the lead 3-2.  It eerupted with joy, with sorrow for friends and family lost, with feelings and tears that had been bottled up for 10 days.  With one timely stroke of the bat, Mike Piazza brought the city together and gave us something to enjoy as a family.  It was a baseball moment that transcended baseball, and it was poetic that New York’s hero that night was the man that had been Mets' fans hero time and time again.....Mike Piazza. 

When I think of Piazza, I think of his perfect swing, gliding through the strike zone…..the ball exploding off his bat.  I think of his quiet dignity and class.  Never letting rumors in the press bother him, never sweating the pressure or the responsibility of his role as leader and go-to guy.  As Ron Darling aptly put it in his broadcast, he was “A Gentleman Superstar”.

Last night was a long awaited love-fest between Mike Piazza and the fans.  What struck me as ironic was that when Piazza first arrived on the scene in 1998, there was not a lot of that love to go around.  He had just arrived as a Met, after a brief layover with the Marlins and was in the last year of his contract.  In my mind, and in the minds of a lot of others at the time, New York was auditioning for Mike more so than the other way around.  Was this going to be a place he wanted to settle in and spend the golden years of his career?   Piazza got off to a slow start with the Mets and as was the case with Carlos Beltran for the first few weeks of this season, Shea rained with “Booos” for the new arrival.  It made me crazy because I was afraid Piazza was going to leave New York as quickly as he arrived. 

You know the rest…Piazza heated up, the fans fell in love, he signed with the Mets and that year Piazza hit .328  with 32 homers and 111 RBIS.  The next year was even better (40/124/.303) and the love affair never died.  Even after he took off the Orange and Blue for the last time, the New York faithful realized how lucky they were to have had Mike Piazza be a part of the Met family for Eight Years.  Last night they let him know.  It was our turn to give.