Folks have been busting my baseballs for a few weeks since I realized I had “checked out” the last week in August – meaning I haven’t gone out of my way to find 3 hours for every single Mets game and even went Labor Day weekend without watching. This week I have been better watching just because my schedule allowed it.
But I sense the fans are losing their minds, so I thought I’d do a round of the misery today starting with yesterday’s Faith and Fear giving up on the Faith and part.
Over the last month or so watching the Mets has become a chore. For the first time in my life, I find myself thinking that I have other things to do — things that won’t leave me angry or sad. My kid, raised in a rabidly blue and orange household, increasingly doesn’t watch at all. He’d rather read, or play with Legos, or do anything else. I don’t bother arguing — watching Andres Torres once again forget how many outs there are isn’t exactly going to make him back into a fan. Joshua goes to sleep under a framed picture featuring shots of Reyes and Wright. We haven’t replaced the Reyes picture, because who would the replacement be? When Wright is also an anachronism, I suspect the picture will just come down, with no replacement at all.
