March is Mostly Mets Reading Month: 'The Happiest Recap' and shameful streaks

We're running out of days in March is Mostly Mets Reading Month. But today's entry reminds us that even the least-legendary Mets can create a memory of a lifetime.

The Happiest Recap, First Base: 1962-1973 by Greg W. Prince

Published 2012

Every game the Mets win is a treasure to behold.

Some are extra special, like the pennant clinchers or the two historic games that allowed the team to claim the title “World Champions.”

Some are also special, but not for obvious reasons.

Greg, who is celebrating the 10^th anniversary the glorious “Faith and Fear in Flushing” blog he co-writes, is telling us about 500 interesting victories in the Mets storied history.

And as Greg explains in the book – the first of four in a series – the games he’s looking for could be highlighted for introducing us to a new character, be marked by an amazing team or individual effort, or “games that left behind images that defy erasure.”

The title, as any veteran Mets fan will recognize, comes legendary broadcaster Bob Murphy’s post-game summary when things went well. And because it’s Greg, you know it will be well-written and enjoyable and hit any true Mets fan right in the heart.

Alas, there was a long, dark stretch where there were no happy recaps for me, at least when I saw the Mets play in person. How long, and how dark, you might ask? Try a 17-year span between the July 21, 1991 victory over to the Dodgers at Shea to a momentous July 20, 2008 win over the Reds in Cincy.

It was heartbreaking and nearly unbearable. I’d watch the Mets lose at Shea and on the road, in Subway Series games at both New York Stadiums and Opening Day in Miami. I saw them get clobbered by the Tigers 14-0 at one Detroit stadium and 15-7 in another.

I saw them lose from a perch in the press box in Cincy and the upper deck at Wrigley.

This became known as “The Streak of Shame,” a period to be debated and chronicled. Pretty much, if I showed up, the Mets lost – for 11 straight games.

Finally, the streak came to its end in an unlikely place at the hands of an unlikely player.

The Baseball Truth gang got together for our annual baseball road trip on July 19, 2008, again in Cincy with the Mets in the house. The Mets lost of course, 7-2.

That was a Saturday night, and the Mets were in town the next day for a Sunday afternoon game. I decided to grab a ticket and attend, then make the six-hour trip home to Grand Rapids.

Unlike nearly all the other games, I didn’t attend with friends or family. This was just me and the Mets.

The team went ahead early, up 4-1 in the fourth inning. Of course the Reds tied it up, and then went ahead in the sixth. The familiar gloom was setting in.

But the Mets tied it up in the seventh, and the game marched into extra innings.

Perhaps few of us remember Robinson Cancel, the Mets pudgy third-string catcher and pinch-hitter of last resort.

He led off with a double.

Jose Reyes dropped a sacrifice bunt to get him to third and beat the throw.

Few of us remember Argenis Reyes, a light-hitting backup infielder. He tapped a grounder that the Reds threw away, allowing Cancel to score. The first and more familiar Reyes later came around to score on another play.

To say I was excited doesn’t do justice to the pacing and weeping that was going on as Billy Wagner stepped to the mound.

Billy struck out the side, lifting his hands in the air and an enormous weight off this fan’s back.

I know the July 20, 2008 7-5 win over the Reds won’t make a future volume of Greg’s book, but it was the happiest recap for this fan.

  

Streak of Shame 1991-2008

1991 July 21, Mets 9, Dodgers 4

1993 April 18, Reds 3, Mets 2

1995 July 26, Cardinal 3, Mets 2
1995 Sept. 24, Marlins 4, Mets 3

1997 June 17, Yankees 6, Mets 3

1997 June 30 Tiger 14, Mets 0

1999 April 5, Marlins 6, Mets 2

2007 June 10, Tigers 15, Mets 7

2007 Aug. 4, Cubs 6, Mets 0

2008 April 21, Cubs 7, Mets 1

2008 June 28, Yankees 3, Mets 2

2008 July 19, Reds 7, Mets 2

2008 July 20, Mets 7, Reds 5

Your reading list:

March 28: "New York Mets, the First Quarter Century" by Donald Honig
March 22: "Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72" by Hunter S. Thompson

March 21: "Swinging '73" by Matthew Silverman
March 18: "Roadshow" by Neil Peart

March 17: "Destiny of the Republic" by Candice Millard
March 11: "Street Gang" by Michael Davis
March 10: "Topps Baseball Cards, the Complete Picture Collection"
March 9: "Dodger Dogs to Fenway Franks" by Bob Wood
March 8: "The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt" by Edmund Morris

March 7: "The New York Mets" by Leonard Koppett
March 6: "Mary Lou" by Mary Lou Retton and Bela Karolyi

March 5: "Baseball Uniforms of the 20th Century" by Marc Okkenon
March 4: "Clemente! The Enduring Legacy" by Kal Wagenheim 
March 3: "Mets by the Numbers" by Jon Springer and Matthew Silverman

March 2: "Faith and Fear in Flushing" by Greg W. Prince

Topps all-time top 60 card No. 6, Doc Gooden and the 'Streak of Shame'

Dwight Gooden is blessed to have numerous outstanding Topps cards, but there are two that are particularly special, for different reasons.

First is the 1986 base set card, with a photo from the 1985 season when Gooden compiled what can only be described as one of the best pitching performances ever by a Met, going 24-4 with a 1.53 ERA, 16 complete games and eight shutouts.


This was Gooden when he was all magic and potential, focused and raring back.

But I’m favoring a 1992 Stadium Club card, and Doc isn’t even pitching. He’s rounding third base, about the score the Mets’ eighth run. It’s the bottom of the third, 3:02 p.m. and sweltering hot.

The time and the score are evident from the photo, but I know first-hand about the heat. Will and I were there, watching that game from the Shea press box.

The Mets eventually won that game 9-4, beating the Dodgers and former 1986 Mets heroes Darryl Strawberry and Bob Ojeda.

It would be the last time I’d see the Mets win in person for 17 years, a streak of shame that lasted until an incredible afternoon at Great American Ballpark in Cincinnati in 2008.

For a long time, that Stadium Club was more than a great, non-traditional action shot. With my press pass, it was a reminder of an incredible day at Shea – and the last time I thought I’d see the team win a game.

Observations and adventures from Citi Field

The Citi Field punch list helped us explore the Mets' new home, but Dad, Tim, Andrew and I had all kinds of adventures checking out the ballpark from top to bottom, inside and out.

Here are some of the rest of the things we experienced on Aug. 5, when the Mets smacked around the Cardinals.

There's a chance I really, really like my brick!



Our seats granted us access to the Acela Club, which was pretty darn fancy and with a nice view of the field. We didn't eat there, what with all the knishes and other fine New York dining opportunities inside the park.

But Dad and Tim checked out the bar and were glad that they were able to serve iced tea. I'm not sure they were actually drinking iced tea, but I was pestering the hostess for information about where the Dwight Gooden wall signature was being displayed.

Three employees all tried to help me find someone who knew, even giving me a phone number of someone in the stadium who would know such things. Sadly, this is where I discovered the iPhone was having reception issues.

But this attention also furthered our theory that the real Mets employees were replaced by pod people.



Lots of issues with the trash cans. The top one is nice, but what's with the Y tucking behind the N like that? I've never noticed the cap logo doing that. You have to wonder if someone signed off on that and didn't think it was a big deal, or that people would care. Clearly, we do.
Now, I thought this one was really cool. You have the batting helmet -- blue version, even! -- but my Mom took a look at the photo and asked, "Why did they put a helmet atop a toilet seat?"

We traditionally don menacing Mets tats prior to the game because we are most dangerous people. Andrew, of course, tatted up, too.

Sadly, I forgot I was wearing mine when we went to Coney Island after the game. While on line at Nathan's a guy walked up and said, "So, you go to the game today?"

"Yeah! How'd you know?"

"Cus you got Mr. Met on your face."

Luckily, at Coney Island, a strange facial tattoo didn't make me stand out from too many other people wandering around the boardwalk.

I was ready to annoint Daniel Murphy as my new favorite Met after watching how hard he worked during spring training. I know the season's been a disappointment, well, for everyone. But I'm hoping Murph will pick build on this year and pick it up next season.

My Dad snapped this great shot of David Wright moments before he launched his home run.

Alas, it wasn't long before we saw poor Jon Neise crumple to the ground and get helped off the mound. You can see Jerry in the background calling for Nelson Figueroa.

Albert Pujols congratulates Jeff Francoeur on a rare walk.
It was pretty exciting to see Bobby Parnell make his first career plate appearance -- and slap a hit and even come around to score. Then he earned his first career save. Pretty good game!
Mixed emotions about this guy. Part of me salutes him for honoring Gil instead of being among the thousands at the game with a current player on his back.

But as a jersey purist, I just can't. The Mets didn't have names of their backs when Hodges managed. And if I'm going to mock Yankees fans for putting Ruth 3 on their jerseys, I have to be consistent.
Oh man, Mr. Met himself calls me out on the Streak of Shame! Has he not heard that the streak ended last year in Cincinnati?
Yea! Final score 9-0, Mets win, as proudly proclaimed by the scoreboard and message boards!
We all checked in with the brick one last time before heading out.

Shamed no more

After 17 years and 11 games, the Mets won with me in the stands. What an afternoon! I'm numb, and that was before the 6.5-hour drive back to Michigan.

I'll have a full report of a weekend with the Mets, Reds and baseball buddies tomorrow. Meanwhile, take a look at the scoreboard. I haven't seen that result since I was 27.

Thank you to everyone who called, e-mailed and texted kind words all the way home. Greg called moments after Billy Wagner struck out jay Bruce and caught me giddy, weepy and probably incoherent.

It was just a baseball game, and yet, it was ... everything!

Streak extended, of course

The 7-2 on the scoreboard and the smiles on the faces on my Reds-loving buddies tell you that the Streak of Shame was extended on Saturday night. Now we're at 11 games over 17 years.

I'll have a full report when I return from Cincinnati.

But, there is good news. I was able to snag a ticket for today's game. The streak is in the hands of Big Mike Pelfrey!

Streak continues, but it was still a glorious day at Wrigley

I can’t prove that Tom Glavine sent word that I would not be welcome at Wrigley Field on Sunday.

But after the streak-extending debacle on Saturday, I can’t say I’d blame him.

Will surprised my on my birthday last April with a glorious present – a ticket to see the Mets play the Cubs at Wrigley Field. Laurie, his girlfriend, is a member of a group that has season tickets, and she was able to snag the Mets tickets, and was even able to grab seats for the game against the Reds, who are Will’s favorites.

He did warn me that the Cubs are something like 8 and 1 when he is in the Friendly Confines. And that’s not even counting the game in Cincinnati last weekend when we saw the Cubs pound the Reds.

And he knows of my painful streak of not seeing the Mets win in person since 1991, a trail of tears that was of course extended in June when the Tigers remembered they were good and slammed us 15-7.

So clearly, the odds were not in our favor. But any opportunity to see the Mets in person is to be treasured, and to see them with my best friend in a fabled yard is just extra special.

I haven’t seen a game at Wrigley in years, and Will warned me that things had changed a little.

Not the yard itself, but rather the people in the seats. It used to be that the bleachers were the trendy place to be. But now the ballpark sells out for the season, and is packed with people Will calls “Trixies and Tylers,” who are there to see and be seen.

They’re part of the overflow crowd at Murphy’s before the game, show up around the middle of the second inning, then depart after seeing which celebrity sings “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”

And make no mistake; the streets around the ballpark were jam-packed even 2.5 hours before the game. It’s neat to see all the Cubs-themed shops, bars and even street vendors.

Even the billboards were cool. Absolut has an ad reading “In an Absolut world,” and showing the famed billy goat getting a seat in the park, eliminating the curse.

Some people were knowledgeable. Naturally, I was wearing my Faith and Fear in Flushing t-shirt, and the owner of one of the souvenir stores said “OK, I know what the shirt means, but who is No. 14?” I explained it was Hodges, and gave him credit for knowing Casey, Tom and Jackie.

Inside, two ushers – two nice older ladies – also asked me about the numbers then insisted they take my photo with Wrigley in the background.

We picked up our cool Ryne Sandberg freebie caps, squished pennies for my daughter and enjoyed the Mets stretching and taking BP. The Wrigley bullpens are near the stands, and we were able to watch Oliver Perez getting in some work.

The Cubs do something else neat, they sell food and soda for 25-percent off for the hour after the gates open, so we snagged some fine brats and settled into our seats in the upper deck along the third-base line.

As for the game, I thought innings 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9 were great. Third inning sucked.

Will was dead-on about the Trixies. A pair in their late 30s came and sat next to us in the second inning. The following is the extent of the baseball conversation they had with us, themselves for anyone else.

Trixie: Are you guys season-ticket holders?

Me: I’m not, but by friend is part of a season-ticket group.

Trixie: Oh. We bought these from a guy who is a season-ticket holder.

Me: So, are you a Mets fan?

Trixie: No (with disgust.)

And that’s it. As Will said, “They’re here for a game, but it ain’t baseball.”

They walked around for a while, came back to their seats and the Trixie who had the short conversation before asked if she could eat some of my peanuts. Never had that happen before.

And of course, they departed after Chris Chelios sang during the seventh-inning stretch.

Of course, the Mets lost. My (now extended) streak of shame:

8/4/2007 Cubs 6, Mets 2
6/10/2007 Tigers 15, Mets 7
4/5/1999 Marlins 6, Mets 2
6/30/1997 Tigers 14, Mets 0
9/24/1995 Marlins 4, Mets 3
7/26/1995 Cardinals 3, Mets 2
7/21/1991 Mets 9, Dodgers 4

After the game we headed over to the Northwestern University campus, where Will showed me his old stomping grounds and we dined at the appropriately named Dave’s Italian Kitchen for an amazing meal.

We then caught up with Laurie and finished the night at an ancient, eight-lane bowling alley for some glow-in-the-dark bowling. Timber Lanes had a juke box with like a gazillion songs.

A pretty fantastic day, save for the third inning.

A great day with the Mets -- unless you look at the scoreboard

If the final score was all that mattered, then Sunday’s trip to see the Mets in Detroit was a disaster.

But seeing the Mets in a regular season game in person for the first time this century and sharing the day with my 10-year-old baseball buddy daughter made the day special no matter what the scoreboard said.

Caroline wore her new Mets t-shirt purchased just for the occasion, and after much debate I opted for the classic Faith and Fear in Flushing t-shirt as the foundation for my black Robin Ventura road jersey.

I know, I know. I’m opposed to the black alternate uniforms. But my cousin Tim recently said he breaks his alt out when he needs to feel like a bad ass, and after Saturday’s loss I figured we’d need to look a little tough while cruising “The D.”

Caroline and I arrived at Comerica Park about 20 minutes before the gates opened because, well, I’m trying to raise her properly and getting there for batting practice is just the right thing to do.

We did have time to pose in front of the Tiger statue in front of the
ballpark. A family offered to take the shot for us despite our obvious allegiance. I wasn’t too surprised because it’s rare to see the Tigers faithful pile on opposing fans. I suspect that’s because the team was so bad for so long that the fans have forgotten how to be cocky.

Once inside, Caroline had a deal. She collects those flattened pennies, and learned from the official penny collector website that there were two machines inside Comerica. (Apparently there is one at Shea outside the pro shop, if the Web site is correct) The plan was to hit the machine by the carousel first, then let me hang out down by the Mets dugout. We’d hit the second machine at the gift shop when the Tigers came back out.

She was excited to quickly crank out four pennies, and I was pumped to see John Maine and Pedro Feliciano hanging out on the dugout steps. Jorge Sosa popped out, too, and even signed my Mets book.

Before long, there were other people dressed in Metsware lining the rail, all with a neat story. One guy snapping photos was from Northern Jersey and travels on business. He was able to prolong his stay in the area in order to see the Mets. Another was born in the Bronx and now lives in a Detroit suburb and brought his young son to see his team.

A couple in black t-shirts were holding signs that I thought were shaped like bats. One said “Welcome back, Jose” and the other said “Pink Panther.” I confess that I didn’t understand the signs.

“Jose Valentin has the best mustache in baseball,” the guy said. Apparently what I thought was a bat was actually facial hair. How does one judge a 'scache? What's a good one?

Usually it’s pretty lonely to be a Mets fan out here. There was much bonding.

Soon all the pitchers came out for stretching and sprints, led by El Duque. The whole team seemed kind of flat. Not a lot of joking or smiling. Virtually all of them completely ignored the fans. I know the autograph pests are drag, but they could at least look over and wave. Only Shawn Green responded, saying his injured foot felt good.

It was exciting to see all the guys in person as they stepped into the cage. David Wright launched fine batting practice bombs.

We completed our penny-squishing mission, grabbed some snacks and found our seats in the upper deck.

Concession prices at Comerica are just insulting. There’s crazy, ballpark crazy, then Comerica. An Icee goes for $4, and water – water! – is $3.75.

Up in section 215, a guy with a Mets t-shirt and Mets watch sat with his family, and a loud Mets fan sat two rows back. It’s one thing to cheer for your team, but I think this guy was trying to incite the low-key Tigers people.

I sat next to a nice guy from Ohio who roots for the Tigers but said he likes the Mets and hates the Yankees. I deemed him suitable for conversation after he revealed this information. Turns out he’s a Board of Education member, so we enjoyed chatting about school issues and how Tom Glavine expands the strike zone.

Speaking of Glavine, I thought we were well on our way after Wright’s three-run jack deep into the right field stands. But it was clear Glavine didn’t have his stuff.

The Tigers went ahead in the third and never looked back. The middle of the order knocked Glavine out and beat the snot out of Aaron Sele, who makes me long for the return of Darren Oliver.

Meanwhile, the Mets were doing nothing right. While still down by just one, we had Easley on third with one out and Delgado at the plate. I explained to Caroline that it was almost certain we’d tie the game. All Delgado had to do was put the ball in play. I told her the only thing that wouldn’t help was if he struck out – which he promptly did.

Another freaky thing was that Comerica Park has suddenly become home to seagulls. I have no idea why, and I've never see it that way before. But they were all over field and pretty fearless, too.

It was 10-3 in the top of the sixth, and Jim Leyland pulled starter Andrew Miller, presumably because the game was in hand. But as my school board member row-mate knew, the Tigers have a backdraft bullpen and no lead is safe.

And it was pretty sweet when Carlos Gomez launched our second three-run bomb of the game. The bottom third of our lineup – all of which were in spitting distance of the Mendoza line – had collectively sucked to that point, and after that point, too.

All through the Tigers scoring and Mets sucking, Caroline and I had fun flagging down the cotton candy and frozen lemonade vendors and teaching her to keep score. I also ran into a former colleague from the Flint Journal and we enjoyed catching up and marveling at how big our kids have become.

The final was 15-7. I can’t say I was stunned that they lost. I went back to my records – I’m enough of a geek to keep track of these things – and was stunned to find out I haven’t witnessed a regular season Mets win since bleeping 1991! How long ago was it? Dwight Gooden was the winning pitcher.

My streak of shame:

6/10/2007 Tigers 15, Mets 7
4/5/1999 Marlins 6, Mets 2
6/30/1997 Tigers 14, Mets 0
9/24/1995 Marlins 4, Mets 3
7/26/1995 Cardinals 3, Mets 2
7/21/1991 Mets 9, Dodgers 4

Derek F. Jeter was still at bleeping Central High School in Kalamazoo only dreaming about taunting us when I last witnessed a Mets win.

Yes, there were a bunch of spring training wins in there, but we’re talking regular season. Truth be told, I haven’t even seen a spring training win since 2001.

I’m either a jinx, unlucky or need to get to more games to improve the odds. Amazingly, I’ll have another chance this year because Will has invited me to see the Mets and the Cubs at Wrigley on Aug. 4.

I’ll be thrilled to see the Mets – but they might not be as thrilled to see me!

In other words...

If you think I'm tough on Derek F. Jeter, wait until you read this great post from the Toronto baseball guys, who has compiled 100 reasons to hate Jeter, which is a good start. Great job, guys! My favorite line: "What do you call a slow roller to Derek Jeter's left?" "Single up the middle!"

A sad streak ends this weekend

I have a dubious streak going. And weather permitting, it ends this weekend.

I haven’t seen our Mets play in a regular season game since 1999, which was Opening Day in Miami.

I’m not proud of that seven-year hiatus. But the team doesn’t come to Michigan often and my attempts to get to places where they do hang out — Chicago, Milwaukee, St. Louis or Cincinnati — have been foiled for one reason or another.

So I’ve been counting the years until the Mets’ inter-league schedule to rotated to the American League Central, and for that rotation to include a stop in Detroit.

Of course, I thought I’d be seeing our team in Detroit when my folks surprised me with a glorious early Christmas present — a ticket to World Series Game One — last October. But we know what happened. (Grumble grumble Heilman grumble grumble Molina SWING CARLOS! AAAARRRRRGHHHHH)

I’ll be at Comerica Park bright and early Sunday morning boldly proclaiming Mets fandom. I do not fear the wrath of Tigers fans. They are a humbled lot.

I was there last time the Mets were in town, too, and things did not end well.

On the plus side, the June 30, 1997 game was in Tiger Stadium, a worthy setting for such an event. That was the first year of inter-league play and it was so strange to see the Mets in that stadium.

Remember, 1997 was the Mets’ first winning season since 1990. The Tigers have stunk since I arrived in the state that year, and continued to do so until last season. I expected our boys to slide into town, launch some bombs into the short right field porch and head out of "The D" with at least two victories and probably three. Of course, these were the Butch Huskey-Carlos Baerga-era Mets and I should have known better.

My son — a day shy of his fifth birthday — and I got to the yard early, but that goes without saying. It was a tradition of sorts to yell "Cookie!" at then-coach Cookie Rojas, and we were in the front row watching batting practice when Rojas walked by on the field. In purely a reflex reaction, I yelled "Coooookkkkiiiieeeee."

I expected a wave, but Rojas started walking right for us and offered to sign something. I pulled a ball out of my backpack and we had a nice short chat.

And that was the high point of the night.

The Tigers scored two in the bottom of the first on a Bobby Higginson homer. He’d have two more by the end of the game.

Mark Clark surrendered eight runs in 5.1 innings. Someone named Joe Crawford — whom I have no recollection of whatsoever — gave up four more in 1.2 innings and Takashi Kashiwada finished the night by allowing two more.

That’s 14 runs if you’re counting. Only one would have been enough, since we didn’t score any.

So I left the ballpark a little more quietly than I entered. But I did buy a cool cap commemorating the series.

Shockingly, the Tigers won the other two games that weekend, and I took some serious ribbing at work. And I dished out some serious ribbing in 2004 when the Tigers came to Shea and we swept their striped butts.

Just shy of 10 years later, I’m heading back to see the Tigers and the Mets, this time with my daughter, who has become my score-keeping baseball buddy.

I was able to see two spring training games this year, but Sunday will be my first chance to see Reyes, Wright, Delgado and Beltran in a game that counts!

Naturally, there will be a full report Sunday night.

More lessons on the mighty river.

Kayak Version 2.0 is a wonderful thing, and twice now I’ve been able to take it out on the Grand River.

Last night I was headed up river and saw a sheriff’s deputy on a Wave Runner headed the other way.

It’s a wide river, and he slowed down as he passed and waved. I assumed he slowed s0 he wouldn’t create a wake that might topple me.

About an hour later I was heading back to the launch area noticed that he was loading the Wave Runner on his trailer.

I remembered being chastised by Connecticut Sister in this space a couple weeks ago for not having a life vest. She said it was the law, and I had an inkling that she might be right, especially since she quoted the law and provided a link and everything.

But I dismissed this advice, especially since I haven’t seen anyone else wearing one.

I saw the deputy and the trailer and thought, "Wouldn’t it be funny if he gave me grief for not having the life vest." Not funny as in "ha-ha," but funny as in "It would suck to have to admit she was right."

I decided not to take the chance and float down river a little, then work my way back to the launch.

I returned a little bit later, and while the Wave Runner was up on the trailer, the cruiser was still there.

It was getting late and thought it was silly to worry, so I paddled up to the launch and not-so-gracefully extracted myself and started walking back to the car.

The deputy, who was doing some paperwork, started making small talk.

"You have a nice ride?" he asked.

"Sure did!"

"You went in the right direction. I was really choppy down the other way," he said.

"Yeah, the wind seemed to be picking up. But it was nice going up river. Have a good night."

Then it happened.

"Hey, you’ve got a jacket, right?" he asked. And he asked this in a way that made me believe that the only correct answer was "Yes."

I’ve watched NYPD Blue. I know the only thing to do at this point is lawyer up. Running probably wouldn’t have worked, especially since I was carrying a kayak and wearing water shoes.

I had a right to remain silent. I tried to remain calm. Then I lied.

"Yes," I replied. "Yes, I do." Jon Lovitz was more convincing.

"OK, because I noticed that you weren’t wearing it when I passed you."

"Oh yeah!" which is non-committal, avoiding a second lie, yet not confessing.

"OK, have a good night."

I took this to mean, "I know you’re lying, since you’re not wearing this vest and there’s barely enough room in the kayak to store a water bottle much less a life vest. So consider this a friendly warning and get your soggy butt to Dunham’s tomorrow and get yourself properly equipped. If I catch you on the river without at life vest again, you’re headed to the hotel with the striped sunshine. And listen to your sister."

Needless to say, I am now properly vested.