It was September 25, 1989. Stephanie and I were headed to Shea. On a chilly Flushing evening, the Mets would eliminate themselves mathematically and I would require sit-and-sulk time, just enough to turn our stroll back to the LIRR into a brisk trot.
And she married me anyway.
Had to be the jacket. I gave it to her a few hours before I gave her the ring two days earlier, over the weekend on the 23rd. My newly minted fiancée was showing off only one in this picture. How many girls get engagement Mets jackets anyway?
Happy February 14 to my wife of 15 years, my Valentine of nearly 20 and the love of my life always.