Meet the Mess

I've been trying to stay positive. Well, maybe not positive, but I've at least been trying to hang on to a shred of irritional optimism over the course of the last two weeks. I've gone from "confident" (up 7 with 17 to play!), to "nervously dismissive" (they've lost a few, but there's no way Phillie can make up that many games!), to "fucking pissed off" (see previous Fire Willie post), to "depressed" and then to where I am now - "acceptance." I have come to accept that the reality of the 2007 New York Mets: They suck.

I have tried to be the eternal optimist with this team. In my 25 years of fandom, I have never given up on the Mets. I've even tried to read the bullshit metsblog posts in which "Ya Gotta Believe" and other general happy thoughts are radiated like rays up sunshine right up my ass. But its not possible to feel good about this team. They just suck. Even if the impossible happens, like, I don't know, WINNING TWO OF THREE AGAINST A SHITTY LAST PLACE TEAM, and the Mets fall face first into the playoffs, can any fan realistically feel excited about our chances? No they cannot.

Perhaps Faith and Fear in Flushing sums it up best: "I want to hear why on earth I should give a fuck about the 2007 New York Mets. Because there's far too much evidence that the 2007 New York Mets themselves do not."

That's why this team pisses me off so much. It's the overwhelming evidence that they just don't give shit. Willie Randolph and his apologists will tell you that it isn't the managers job to get a bunch of millionaire athletes pumped up to play a game. They should be able to do that themselves. Well, if that is the case, then what the fuck is the point of having a manager in the first place? I understand that the batters have to score runs and the pitchers need to not eat a big plate of dicks, but why even have a manager then? If they don't have to get the players juiced, then put me in! I can make questionable double switches! I can grossly misuse the bullpen! I can give generic, canned baseball cliches after a crushing defeat! Fuck yeah!

Watching this team is almost like having a terminal illness. I'm just glad that I've finally reached the "acceptance" stage of the "anger, denial, depression, acceptance" chain. I actually found myself laughing last night when my friend, cocked no less, sent me a "Were done! Y do I even root 4 them!" text after Joel Pineiro, he of the "Cut By the Red Sox" Pineiros, strutted off the field like he was Steve Fucking Carlton. Because was there ever a doubt that this was going to happen? You cannot have a losing record for the months of June and July and expect to win your division. You cannot expect to sleep walk through the month of September against shitty teams and have the division handed to you on a fucking silver platter.

This is not the '06 Mets. That team was fun. They rallied. They had exciting victories. They appeared to give a shit. And perhaps that was the problem. After six years of sucking, the Mets clubhouse realized how much talent they had. And then they got complacent. When that happens, you need the right player, or manager, to smash some fucking furniture, or get in an umps face, or giving a rousing speech. But not this time. Who is going to do that? Willie? Tom Glavine? Carlos "Hip Flexor" Delgado? Do you really think anyone can take Paul Lo Duca seriously at this point?

Here's a "Flushing Flash" for this year's Mets: YOU DON'T HAVE AS MUCH FUCKING TALENT AS YOU FUCKING THINK YOU DO. Carlos Delgado SUCKS. Carlos Beltran is streaky. Your corner outfielders are 40. Your second baseman's knees are in shambles. Your bullpen is comprised of over-the-hill the castoff starters and Guillermo Mota, possibly the worst fucking reliever in baseball as we speak. YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY TRY IF YOU WANT TO WIN. Fuck fuck fuck.

All I could think about this morning when I woke up at 5:40 a.m. and couldn't fall back to sleep was being at Game 6 of the Rangers vs. Sabres Eastern Conference semi-finals last year. In the closing minutes of that game, when it became obvious that the game was lost, every Ranger fan in the building got on their feet and started cheering. I've never seen anything like it at a sporting event I've been to in person. People were cheering like the Rangers had just advanced to the Cup finals. Even though they were about to get knocked out of the playoffs, we were telling the team "You didn't make it happen this year, but fuck, it was a great ride." And it was. And when the players gathered at center ice and saluted us with their sticks, I thought on my way out of the Garden, "This was a fun year." Can you picture that happening at Shea on Sunday? Because I can't. All I can see is a bunch of overpaid assholes slinking off the field after a record setting collapse.

Rooting for the Mets should be fun, but this bunch has somehow found a way to take that away from me. Thanks 2007 Mets - my season has come!