As I read Bill Simmons newest article, named The Consequences Of Caring, yesterday evening, It brought to me a new revelation as a truly passionate sports fan. As sports fans, no matter what age or size, If we have a favorite team in a specific sport, we live and die by that teams performance. It does not matter if that team is last in their division every year or they have 10 consecutive losing seasons. We laugh, cry, cheer, boo, and stand by our team no matter what. I'm about to take you on a journey, a journey into the mind a life of a passionate Met fan. I must warn you though, some of this content has been bleeped out due to its younger viewers.
Day 1: Saturday 6/9/12
I wake up on Saturday morning, still recovering from the beatdown-in-the Bronx the night before. The Yankees had hit 4, count em 4! Homers off of ace Johan Santana, who in his last start had thrown the first no hitter in Mets history. Home Run Derby champ from the year before, Robinson Cano had 2 2 run shots in the 2nd and 4th innngs, also starting the back-to-back-to back homers from Nick Swisher, Andruw Jones, and him of course. Yankees starter Hiroki Kuroda had a no hitter through 6 and 2/3 innings pitched, and only led a run come in the 9th inning, when it did not matter anymore. The Yankees won the game Friday night 9 to 1, and brought back memories to Mets fans of why they own the city. I knew Saturday's game was not gonna be easier, as the Yankees had Phil Hughes on the mound. Now, I know that name doesn't jump out at you, but Hughes had just come off his best start as a Yankee, no scratch that, the best start of his career. He threw a complete game and overshadowed Tigers ace Justin Verlander, as he won the game only allowing 1 run. Now, The Mets had Dillon Gee on the mound who has had a string of 3 consecutive good starts, but the bullpen has given up the fantastic outings. Gee has had a no decision in all of those. For some reason though, after losing the last game in the Cardinals, and 2 of 3 to the Nats, and then last night to the Yankees, there were questions on how much longer the makeshift squad of no-names and minor leaguers good push this offense to win games. Game time finally rolled around, and I rushed downstairs to the basement, turned on the 60 inch TV to FOX, and blasted the surround sound. By the end of the first inning, I already needed a Xanax. Gee had already a balk, letting A-Rod drive in Jeter. Then Gee had loaded the bases with only one out. By this time, the Xanax wasn't working and I was gnawing down my nails to the nub. In the 3rd, we fired back though. Omar Quintanilla hit a shot to right. I yelled "Go, Go, Go!" I saw the ball finally go over the right field fence, and absolutley went bezerk. "YEA BABY! OMAR!!! HOMER!!!" I yelled, not mattering who heard me. Even though it was only a solo shot and it just tied the game. I knew how much that tying run meant to the team, win or lose the game, i knew we were back in it. Every inning when the Yankees were at-bat, I was gnawing on my nails more and more. In the 6th though, David Wright came up to bat. I cooled down in my chair a little, knowing he could give us the lead with one swing. That one swing finally came. A drive going deep. I said "Go, Go, GO!!!" again this time. The ball just went over Curtis Granderson's glove, counting as a Homer. I ran around in circles yelling again my Home Run cheer. "YEA BUDDY!!!! THAT"S THE WRIGHT STUFF!!! DAVID WRIGHT!!!" That shot put us up 2-1 in the Top of the 6th. The Yankees were not down and out, and my pacing around and the gnawing on my nails did not stop. Grandy-Man got on 3rd in the bottom half, and Mark Teixera came up. He was another one of those one-swing guys who could put the Yankees ahead. Gee through his one bad pitch of the game at the exact wrong time. Tex sent it deep. My hands crept up towards my head. The Yankees fans gasped. The ball went over the wall, putting the Yankees up 3-2. My hands were fully over my face and head now. I was filled with shock and more shock. I was petrified that we had lost the lead with one swing of the bat. The Yankees though, did not widen there lead any, still giving us a chance to win it. In the 7th, we had the bottom of the order due up. Josh Thole, Omar Quintanilla, then the top of the order starting with Kirk Nieuwenhuis. Thole got on first with a single, starting a rally. Sort of. Omar Quintanilla, the hero earlier in the day, was up next. I was up, pacing around more like never before, knowing that this was our bestchance to tie the game back up again before the Yankees lock down bullpen came in and shut things down. Omar hit another drive deep, this time to left-center field. I was jumping up and down, hoping for at least a double with no outs so we could tie or take the lead. Curtis Granderson playing in shallow center field raced over to try and save a run. Curtis with his mad and unhuman like speed, got to the ball and made a fantastic over the shoulder catch. When he made that catch, it took all hope out of me that we were gonna win that game. We were down a run, and the momentum had shifted dramatically in their favor. My hands were on my face, and I was in deep distress. Watch Curtis' great catch here: http://yankees.mlb.com/video/play.jsp?content_id=22166349&c_id=mlb From that moment on, the Yankees pitching was shut-down the rest of the way, as they didnt allow any more runs across for the Mets. Even Grandy added one of his own with yet another Yankee Homer. As they made the last out though, I was still pissed off at Tex and Grandy for making those two plays that sealed yet another losing series for the Mets, and Yankees got the Bragging rights. I was so mad, I threw a stuffed bear against the wall as hard as I could. I almost tore off my Mets slap bracelet and did the same thing, but stopped myself, knowing that it would not do any good. The Yankees had beat us once again, thats the concept I could not grasp. We had the lead the we let it fall through our fingers. "Ugh, This team man, This team...." I said to myself.
R.I.P Gary "The Kid" Carter #8. Never Forget Jose Reyes.