Tuesday, October 02, 2007


My wife has issues with the fact that I enjoy seeing the Mets lose and that the fact that they lost the division on the last day of the season makes me giddy. "How can you take pleasure in other's pain," she asks. Oh, it's easy, believe me.

I have been trying to remember why I became a Mets hater. I grew up in a Mets house and wasn't much of a baseball fan until I was a teenager. It wasn't a very hard choice as to which of the local teams was the better choice. One seemed to win all of the time - or at least had a long winning tradition, while the other just lost. Constantly. The Yankees had legendary names attached to their roster, while the Mets ... didn't. And the colors! Orange and blue. Not for this boy.

Maybe its because I had a couple of guitars stolen from the Shea Stadium parking lot, including my treasured '69 Telecaster. Maybe its because so many Met fans are assholes (excluding my father, father-in-law, brother-in-law and you, of course). Maybe it's just because the Mets suck.

I think it's much tougher for anyone to explain why they are a Mets fan. Outside of some displaced family loyalty, why anyone would choose to follow this miserable excuse for a baseball team is beyond me.

I didn't get to watch the last out of their incredible slide. Too bad. I really wanted to see what kind of hand shake Jose Reyes had ready for that. Then again, he probably didn't realize that there were three outs.

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