Amazin'

OMG. Miracles do happen.

I have been a Mets fan for as long as I can remember. I think it was around the time of the 1973 World Series, which the Mets lost to the Oakland Athletics. I remember watching that series with my dad, in his apartment, and rooting for the Mets.

After that, I would regularly watch Mets games when I hung out with my dad (my parents were divorced), and we would have putting contests during the commercials. (My father was an avid golfer, as well as an avid Mets fan.)

One of my fondest memories from my youth was my dad taking me to Shea, sitting behind the Mets dugout, and dad getting me an authentic Mets cap and ball (lost during some move, sadly) during the game. From then on, I was hooked.

All through middle school and high school, I would watch Mets games on television on listen on the radio, going to games at Shea when I could. However, when the Mets made their historic pennant run in 1986, winning over 100 games, I was attending college in London, pretty much oblivious to what was happening at home with the Mets. So you can imagine my shock, upon returning to college that fall, to be sitting in my dorm's common room, watching the Mets play in the World Series... surrounded by Red Sox fans. (As I recall, no one came to blows.)

When the Mets made their next pennant run, in 2000, I was a new mom and in the process of moving from Chicago back to the New York Metro Area and had not really followed the Mets' exploits, or baseball, in years (devoting myself to basketball and the Chicago Bulls and Northwestern football). Indeed, to this day, I still think of Mike Piazza as a Dodger, not a Met.

Eventually, though, I returned to my first love, baseball and the Mets, and began regularly watching games some time in 2006.

As a Mets fan, I am used to disappointment. Indeed, as my husband regularly tells (teases) me, my motto is "Hope for the best, expect the worst." Though I believe that applies to pretty much every Mets fan.

Indeed, as I wrote in a previous blog post, the difference between Mets fans and Yankees fans is that Yankees fans (and St. Louis Cardinals and San Francisco Giants fans) expect their team to win and are pissed off when their team loses. Mets fans expect their team to lose and are giddy when their team wins.

So you can imagine the giddiness I and Mets fans everywhere started to feel in August when the Mets, who, just a few weeks before looked like they were headed to another .500 (or worse) season, went on a winning streak -- and just over a month later won the National League East.

Now, as anyone who knows me can tell you, I am not a religious person, though I believe in God. And it was with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek when, back on April 5th, I wrote this "Mets fan's prayer" on the eve of opening day:

Our Mets team, that art in Citi Field,
Hallowed be thy game.
Thy fans will come,
If you score some runs,
At home as on the road.
Give us this season at least 87 wins.
And forgive us our pessimism,
As we forgive those pitchers who put up Ws for us.
And lead us not into last place in the NL East,
but deliver us unto the playoffs.
Amen.

Apparently, the Lord heard me -- and one-upped me. Proof that miracles still happen. (Sorry Chicago Cubs fans. You will have to wait a bit longer for yours.)

I know that a lot of you don't care about sports, or the Mets, and I get it. I do. There are a lot more important things going on in the world than baseball and the World Series. But in a world and a time filled with so much bad news and suffering (again, my apologies, Cubs fans), the 2015 Mets are a feel-good story. And right now, at this moment, I am feeling good.

Let's go Mets! #yagottabelieve

The difference between Mets fans & Yankees fans

The spouse and I are off to see the New York Mets play the Washington Nationals (aka the Nats) today at Citi Field. I bought the tickets a couple weeks ago, when the Mets were on what became an 11-game winning streak. (Though I probably would have purchased tickets anyway.)

What a difference a week makes.

At 16-9, the Mets are still well over .500, and are still in first place in the National League East. (For now.) And Matt Harvey, their pitching ace, has started the season an impressive 5 and 0 (though he doesn't look nearly as dominant as he did two years ago). So the Mets should at least win one out of five games. But that feeling of elation among Mets fans as the Mets entered Yankee Stadium last weekend has pretty much evaporated.

[I am as likely, and as often, to grumble "Do not f*ck this up, Mets!" as I am to scream "Let's go Mets!" And I have also begun thanking Jesus when the infield or a base runner doesn't make an error and/or a Met scores, which amuses the spouse to no end.*]

Sure, sure, there are plenty of Mets fans who still think this could be the year. But I would hazard that the majority of Mets fans, while hoping that the team will make it to the playoffs this year, are pretty much waiting for the team to implode, as they have done every year for nearly 10 years now.

And therein lies the difference between Mets fans and Yankees fans (and Mets fans and Nats fans and St. Louis Cardinals fans and San Francisco Giants fans).

Yankees (and Cardinals and Giants and Nats) fans expect their team to win, and are surprised and disappointed when it loses. Mets fans expect their team to lose, and are surprised and elated when it wins. 

Which is why when my daughter asked me this morning, "Are you excited about going to see the Mets?" I replied, "At least it's supposed to be a nice day. Ask me when I get home." 

UPDATED: Maybe the Mets should change their slogan from "Ya gotta believe" to "Hope for the best, expect the worst." As feared, the Mets lost to the Nats (again), 1-0, making several errors and squandering several opportunities. Sigh.

*Because we're Jewish. But then again, so was Jesus.

Play ball! A Mets fan's prayer on the eve of the 2015 MLB season

Today is Easter Sunday. It is also opening night of the 2015 Major League Baseball (MLB) season. In other words, the perfect time to contemplate (and, perhaps, celebrate?) the resurrection of the New York Mets, a team that has been crucified by fans and the press.

But now, with the second coming of pitching superstar Matt Harvey, the Mets' prospects appear to have risen, as have the hopes of long-suffering Mets fans like myself.

So as we prepare for the start of the 2015 baseball season, I offer up the following Mets Fan's Prayer. Please rise and remove your baseball caps.

Our Mets team, that art in Citi Field,
Hallowed be thy game.
Thy fans will come,
If you score some runs,
At home as on the road.
Give us this season at least 87 wins.
And forgive us our pessimism,
As we forgive those pitchers who put up Ws for us.
And lead us not into last place in the NL East,
but deliver us unto the playoffs.
Amen.

Play ball!

Paradise by the dashboard light

True story. Make that true pathetic story.

So the spouse and I are driving back from an absolutely lovely dinner, where I have imbibed an entire glass of excellent rose (which is about half a glass too much for yours truly), and we are listening to the Mets game, as we are both Metsochists. And it's the bottom of the fourth inning, the Mets are up and Jason Bay singles and the announcer, Howie Rose, is screaming something like "And Angel Pagan, who had just stolen second base, is rounding third, he's heading for home, and..." and I scream out

Stop right there!
I gotta know right now!
Before we go any further,
Do you love me?
Will you love me forever?
Do you need me?
Will you never leave me?
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?
Will you take me away and will you make me your wife?
I gotta know right now,
Before we go any further
Do you love me?!
Will you love me forever?!

Which, for those of you who weren't around (or conscious) in 1977, was the bit sung by the girl in Meatloaf's classic "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" after the famous baseball bridge -- narrated by former Yankee shortstop, announcer, and pitchman for The Money Store, Phil Rizzuto -- which everyone in my cabin that summer of camp had memorized by the time we went home (much to the delight of our unsuspecting parents).



Btw, I had no idea -- until the spouse informed me in the car tonight -- that Phil Rizzuto narrated that classic bit. Apparently Meatloaf was a big-time Yankees fan and asked Rizzuto if he would do the honors. (I also wasn't aware that I still recalled the lyrics. Amazing what the mind retains.)

Even better, the Mets are currently up 6-0. Now if they could only get above .500, that would be paradise.

Talking Heads

I really should be writing landing page copy (and I will, Carlos, soon... like later this morning, not that you really care, but it's on my agenda, really... as soon as I finish writing this blog post, grab a shower, start a load of laundry, unload the dishwasher, and get something to eat... really). But I keep hearing Talking Heads, both the political variety and the musical group (in particular the album "Stop Making Sense" and the song "Life During Wartime," which has been playing on my mental jukebox for weeks now).

Is it just me or does it seem like we've been in primary mode for, I don't know, FOREVER?

If I hear one more suggestion as to how to seat the Democratic delegates from Florida and Michigan (I say don't seat 'em -- those states broke the rules, and they knew the consequences; but if the DNC goes soft, which we all know it will, split 'em 50-50); or that sexism played a major role in preventing Hillary from being Queen of the Democrats (puh-lease; if you really want to know why and where she went wrong, check out this interesting article from the May 8 issue of New York Magazine); or if I have to hear John "Double-Talking, My-Wife-Stole-Money-from-a-Charity-to-Finance-Her-Drug-Habit-and-Got-Off-Scott-Free-but-Let's-Not-Talk-About-That" McCain launch into yet another tirade about how crazy it is for Barack Obama to even talk about possibly talking to Iran and Hamas and, God forbid!, Raoul Castro, at some point, which, btw, I think, like it or not, is a political reality -- or necessity -- if we want to remain a so-called Super Power, I am going to scream.

Oh wait... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE. (Swigging from bottle of Absolut.)

Ahhhh. I feel a bit better now.

Now I can devote some time to looking up whatever happened to Charlie the StarKist tuna... (Googling... ah, it appears he is still around and now has his own interactive recipe book) and to following the controversy over current Mets manager Willie Randolph and whether he should be replaced, by, say, former Mets manager Bobby Valentine or Lee Mazzilli, both of whom I like and think would do a good job -- though I also do not think Willie is to blame for the Mets uninspired play since last summer... and to... oh wait, the dishwasher started beeping. Gotta go.