Originally posted on Tedquarters:
Let’s start with the unalienable facts. First, a programming note of sorts: There’ll be no Friday Q&A today and this week’s Sandwich of the Week may be delayed, as I’m heading out of town for the weekend for a rather grown-up obligation down south. I expect I’ll ultimately enjoy myself, eat some delicious barbecue, see some old friends and traverse new swatches of the country. But it is a somewhat grim responsibility regardless, and something unexpected that will pull me away from the sickening lovefest surrounding Chipper Jones’ final visit to New York as an opposing player that was long circled on my calendar.
Second: Here on my desk I have a two-page agreement granting ownership and “absolute rights” to “all drafts and versions” and the “blueprints, patterns, instructions, codes and other information necessary to create” a freelance piece I wrote that is not available online about the relationship Mets fans have with Chipper Jones. I haven’t signed it yet because themes covered in that piece – as detailed in the following post – come from the core of my sports-fan soul, and I fear inking away the rights to those blueprints and patterns could in some way damn this career in its nascent stages.
But the check cleared nonetheless, and that sweet freelance cash helps put the sandwiches on the table. Plus said contract flatters me by referring to me throughout as “the artist,” and everyone involved on the editorial side was extraordinarily agreeable throughout the process. So I will have to tread carefully in the following post. The missing scenes in Larry Wayne Jones’ history with Mets fans, omitted here for legal and professional reasons, are the same that are likely burned into the memories of every Mets fan about my age — all those who suffered so frequently and so savagely at the hands of the Braves’ turn-of-the-Millennium dynasty and its prevailing superstar.