The Mets and Me

I love baseball, and I have lived in the glorious New York City borough of the Bronx my entire life. Both of these particulars of my existence, I’m told, make my love for the New York Mets baseball team slightly outrageous.

The truth is the Mets have had a hold on me since October 15, 1986, the day they beat the Houston Astros in a heart-stopping affair for the ages: Game Six of the National League Championship Series. I can recall realizing as an extremely young fan that this taut, see-saw affair was special. The game – with all of its late-inning twists and turns – signified to me that the experience of watching baseball, of never knowing when it’s safe to celebrate a victory or torment yourself because of a loss, was truly unlike anything else in sports.

I was only six years old, but even as a child I knew that Kevin Bass, Glenn Davis, Mike Scott, Nolan Ryan, and Bob Knepper were the enemy. Similarly, Mookie, Daryl, Keith, Lenny, Gary, Doc, Sid, and the other players in the Mets jerseys, they were my heroes.

If the 86 NLCS was the appetizer then I don’t have to tell you how delicious the main course was. I became a lifetime Mets junkie when, later in that same month, the fellas wearing blue and orange overcame a two-run deficit in Game Six of the World Series, rallying with two outs and nobody on base to tie the score and eventually "win it!" on Mookie Wilson's trickling roller up the first base line. I was barely old enough to fathom the Infield Fly Rule, but even at such a young age, watching from my living room in feety pajamas, I knew what all baseball fans, even Sox fans, knew: that the Red Sox had no chance in Game Seven—that the Mets would find a way to win the World Series no matter the circumstances.

We’ve been waiting for a championship ever since, I don’t have to remind you of this.

In this space I hope to share with you my opinions about the current state of the New York Mets. Frustration will come – of this I am supremely aware. But we have an obligation as Mets fans, as trite as it may sound, to Believe. When that championship does arrive, be it this year, or someday in the future, it will be as life affirming and magnificent as the last one.

Now, on to the games, let's go out there and beat Josh Fogg tonight!