As they so often do, the Mets went on to break my heart.
But for the first time in my life, playoff baseball took a backseat to life.
Because that October, which could have ended in agony because of the Mets, began with a bliss that has continued for seven years.
All right, maybe that's a slight exaggeration. It hasn't been seven straight years of non-stop bliss.
Being a parent is harder than that.
But it has changed my perspective on so many things.
The sadness I felt about the Mets not advancing to the 2006 World Series was quickly quelled when I looked at the newborn baby in my lap and that type of perspective-changing continues to this very day:
If I have a bad day I now have three little girls who help make things a whole lot brighter.
Today my oldest daughter turns seven. Which doesn't seem like that big a deal because in many respects she's had the maturity of a seven-year-old since she was three years old.
I'm incredibly proud of all three of my daughters, but if the younger two follow the lead of the oldest as they mature, my wife and I are going to be even more blessed than we already are.
And as I compiled the links to the previous three, I realized that this might be the only year of my life where my age is the product of the ages of my oldest two daughters. (35 = 7 x 5)
See? Just blessed.