I struggle with the belief that any higher power would test or temp me personally.  I’m not an atheist by any means, but I definitely don’t see why I would be any more or less significant than the billions of other people on the planet or the infinite number of those that were here before us.  Someone’s watching me specifically?  I don’t think so.

A (former) friend once told me, “Things don’t just happen.  You need to own your mistakes.”  A great piece of advice for sure.  And that said, while I don’t believe anyone’s watching me, destiny does seem to enjoy a good joke every now and then.

When my lovely red headed wife and I first dated, it didn’t quite take.  The second go-round was a different story and somewhere around the time of our second first date, I told her I was planning on marrying her.

I also told her I was going to Yankee Fantasy Camp… and it started on her birthday.  I’d already paid for it, so two months after our wedding, I headed to Tampa with the dream of (somehow) being the first person ever to make the leap from the fantasy roster to the professional one.

We actually headed off together and my new bride was an awfully good sport, even though it was unseasonably cold in Tampa… and shortly after the start of camp, I tore a calf muscle trying to leg out an extra base hit.  Still, the overall experience wasn’t anything to regret.

As an aside, the last time I passed Darryl Strawberry on the street, he asked about my wife.  Did he remember my name?  Not so much, but oh well.

At the time, my wife and I were living in New York City, and after camp ended, we returned to our life in the Big Apple.  Actually, we returned to a new life… there was a new apartment and an interview with a condo board.  The Snowflakes weren’t particularly far off either.

There were a few compromises along the way, and those we were pretty good at it.

One of the compromises?  Superhero movies.  My lovely red headed wife isn’t a fan at all.  Me?  Sometimes opening night isn’t early enough.  The compromise?  I go whenever I can get away and don’t share the details unless asked.  She doesn’t mind that I love seeing Hulk and Thor (among others) running around the big screen.  Does she want to hear about it excruciating detail—a lengthy treatise on how the director got Rocket Raccoon’s motivation wrong, for example?  Not so much.

Anyway.  We have an understanding, and it works for both of us.

Right now, the Yankees are in the playoffs and winning and our whole house is happy.  Some of us, more than happy.  I’d say that Snowflake #1 and I are vying for the title of “Most Estatic,” but we do have the support of the rest of the house.  Snowflake #2 has told us that someday she will marry Didi Gregorious.  I’m totally good with this.  My wife, maybe less so, despite the obvious benefit of prime seating and free jerseys.  We haven’t really talked about this in detail.  Maybe my lovely red headed wife is thinking that when Snowflake #2 is (much) older she’ll find someone a bit more age appropriate.  Maybe that person won’t even be a Yankee.  I guess there’s plenty of time to talk about this later.

But I digress.

My motivation behind writing this particular column was to point out that Justice League premieres on my lovely red headed wife’s birthday.  Last year, I organized a successful flash party.  But this year, something about “let’s all go to the movies!” doesn’t seem like a great idea.

I no longer have to go to every opening night… it’s just that this time, Batman is involved.  I can’t help but feel as though I’m being tested somehow.

There probably isn’t any sort of trophy for waiting, but that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

If there is a trophy, I hope it’s bat-shaped… and that they don’t ask Darryl Strawberry to spell my name.