Bittersweet journey to bid Wright adieu
Chris Sobel flew 2,400 miles to say goodbye to The Captain.
“Being able to watch David Wright take the field one last time is something I would not want to miss for the world,” an emotional Sobel, 49, told The Post hours before getting on a plane in Arizona on his way to watch Wright’s final game.
It wasn’t the on-field heroics by Wright — a seventime All-Star and two-time Gold Glove winner, who had 242 career home runs — that inspired Sobel to score a golden ticket to the farewell game. It was an act of kindness. On June 11, 2006, Sobel and his son, Sean, 13, who had a severe form of muscular dystrophy, were taking in a Mets-Diamondbacks game at Chase Field in Phoenix when the unexpected happened.
They were seated in the wheelchair section next to the visitors’ on-deck circle. During his first at-bat, Wright, who ended up 1-for-5 that day, broke his bat. Prior to his next turn up, the third baseman emerged from the dugout with a new piece of lumber — but also carrying the cracked Rawlings Adirondack Big Stick, now autographed.
“He just reached over the railing and handed the bat down to my son,” Sobel recalled. “My son couldn’t grab it, so I grabbed it from [Wright] and put it on his lap. We were both speechless.”
Sobel, a crazy Mets fan who was born in Queens, bred on Long Island and had named one of his two daughters Shea.
“The minute David gave us the bat, he became our favorite Met,” Sobel said with a laugh. “He gave me the most enjoyable moment I ever had with my son.”
The following year, Sobel, a behavioral therapist living in Prescott, Ariz., for decades, and his son were in the same section when the Mets came to town. To their surprise, Wright walked over to the stands during warmups and asked Sean, “Hey, you still have my bat?”
Before the teen could answer, Wright looked at the dad and kidded, “You didn’t sell it, did you?”
Father and son replied in unison, “We still have it!”
Every year after that, the Sobels would make sure to be at Chase Field when the Mets came to town. And every year Wright, if he was with the team and not on the disabled list, would seek them out to say hello.
He’d say “How’s it going?” or ask Sean about school, the dad remembered.
On Dec. 8, 2010, Sean succumbed at 17 to complications from Duchenne muscular dystrophy, a degenerative disease he battled for much of his brief life.
When the Mets came to town in 2011, Wright, like clockwork, searched for the Sobels in the stands.
“David mouthed, ‘Where’s your son?’ I made a face, and he walked over and said, ‘Man, I’m really sorry. I remember seeing you guys every year. True fans,’ ” Chris Sobel recalled.
When Wright announced Sept. 13 that his illustrious but bittersweet career would come to a close with one final start Saturday, Sobel knew he had to say goodbye to Sean’s favorite player. He called the 7 Line Army livestream “Orange And Blue Thing” program and shared his David Wright story.
The 7 Line founder Darren Meenan was so moved that he told Sobel he had himself a ticket once he made it to Citi Field.
“WhenWright left the field, I felt a lump in my throat and my eyes began to tear up,” Sobel said of the experience of watching Wright play the field and take his final at-bats. “I felt like it was the end of an era. I mean, it was, for me and for most Met fans.”