He arrived on a prop plane that was so small the pilot made him switch seats during the flight to balance the weight on board. He had only slept two hours, in that fitful sliver of subconscious where dream and reality blur. Growing up in Norfolk, David Wright pestered Mets farmhands for autographs at Tides games. In high school, he played for a showcase team called the Mets that traveled along the Eastern seaboard. And at 21, he circled La Guardia Airport and gazed down on Shea Stadium, all those empty blue and orange seats waiting for their Jeter.
David Wright Was Everything the Mets Could Have Hoped for
