Colin, Where Are You From?
I’m from scaling the massive green pine tree in my front yard and watching my parents pull in the driveway. When they were out of their car, I would shout their name from my nest and chuckle at the confused looks on their faces.
I’m from Gate 4 at Yankee Stadium, cheering as Mariano Rivera closed out the game and dropping my jaw as David Robertson and Mark Teixeira signed my ball. I’m from the captain Derek Jeter, and when I saw Robinson Cano hit a solo shot over the mini Mountain Dew sign.
I’m from long, traffic-packed rides up to Kennebunkport Maine and a quiet laid back guest resort (“resort” is a strong word) with a 5 minute stroll to the ice-cold water and walks down to the private area. Once we get to the end, we climb over the jagged rocks to the uninhabited part.
I’m from Metlife Stadium in East Rutherford, and the glorious helmet catch, cheering as JPP sacks the QB and Odell’s leaning-back-one-handed catch. I’m from 2012, with Victor Cruz and the Salsa dance, and Giants 21, Patriots 17.
I’m from the sizzling frying pan in the morning, with eggs (scrambled) and bacon, a little on the chewy side. If not, then off to the cabinet with Fruit Loops, Cocoa Krispies, and Frosted Flakes.
I’m that pine tree-climbing, Yankee Stadium-going, Maine beach-walking, New York Giants-watching, breakfast-eating person.
That’s where I’m from.