I don't get mad often. When I do, it's like a flip is switched inside me from "simmering" to "volcanic". While I may not transform into a monster a la The Hulk, I think our mental states are roughly identical during those periods. And, like the Hulk, I try to stay un-angry at all times.
Seriously. You don't want to mess with me when I'm mad.
But sometimes I do get mad, and it's not over something physical I can lash out at with my fists. It's a concept, intangible, that frustrates me and eludes me.
So what do I do? I take my rage to the interwebs via the keyboard.
And let me tell you something: when I get mad physically, I can literally feel myself becoming stronger, faster, and more focused. Only that last part carries over into my Internet rants, but it's a beaut, giving me a "writer's high" I otherwise work very hard at to achieve. Rage, however, makes the words flow.
So far I've only done that twice. This was written exactly one year ago, October 1st 2007, in the Comments section on Metstradamus's blog.

"Anyone who didn't see this coming*, raise your hand.
...
Anyone?

Nah, me neither. The way the Mets have been playing ever since reaching the Seven Games Ahead plateau for the last time, I don't know if I should blame Mota, or Reyes, or Schoeneweis, or Wright, or Sele, or Glavine, or Lo Duca, or Wagner, or Delgado, or Beltran, or Sosa, or Heilman, or Minaya, or Randolph, but I do know this: the Mets did not deserve to play in this postseason.

That's right. You've read it correctly: the 2007 New York Mets did not deserve to play in the postseason.

Had we won the East--what of it? I would PRAY for a quick first-round farewell. HAD we won the World Series, I would not dare do what the fans in St. Louis did last year**, and cheer. I would mutter 'Fluke' and wait for April. They were fourteen games above .500 but that did not matter.

I shall not stop cheering for the New York Mets. I stopped cheering long ago for their 2007 version.

Because this team, as a whole, was so far less than the sum of its parts, it was unbelievable.

Besides when they were playing us, the Phils (whose 2007 roster--particularly Rollins--I shall hate forever, but not their franchise, or even their fans) didn't exactly come charging up San Juan Feliciano Hill***. After the 4-game sweep, they muddled their way back to 7 games behind. After the 3-game sweep, they continued to muddle right 'til the end of the season. The Mets could have swooped in for the kill at any given moment.

They did not.
They could not.

Because they lacked the ability to clinch their way out of a wet paper bag****.

ONE game against the Phillies, at any point in the season, ending up with a 'W' instead of an 'L', would have won for us the division. Any ONE of a billion gajillion excruciating losses all year that we could have turned around, and we still end up in a tie.
The 2007 Mets did not play with the heart, or the will, or the guts of a champion. As Metstradamus so correctly pointed out, a 5-1, 4-2, or even 3-3 run over the last six games was not only feasible, it could have--and indeed would have--won us the division.

The 2007 Mets went 1-5.

I'm not crying. I cried in 2000 (my first year as a fan) and in 2001 and at 5:00 AM local time, sitting in front of an unfeeling computer monitor, in 2006.
I'm not crying in 2007. I'm just resigned.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, all those shots with a sledgehammer to the solar plexus? They weren't capricious bad luck brought on via the baseball gods. They were the 2007 Mets in action. They were a truly bad team. All those billion gajillion excruciating losses were brought on by themselves and no one else.

Incompetence? Maybe. Lack of drive? Probably.

All-around general suckiness? Oh yes, definitely.

Farewell, 2007 Mets. I'm looking forward to meeting the new you in 2008.*****"

* The 2007 Mets blew a seven game lead with 17 to play, losing on the very last day of the season (in embarrassing fashion) to end up one game out of first.
** The 2006 Cardinals beat the Mets in the NLCS and then won the World Series, despite a regular-season record of 82-80.
*** An embarrasing gaffe on my part. Juan Feliciano was an IBL player; Jose Feliciano was a Met. The allusion pun was just too good to pass up.
**** My favorite line.
***** Ha. Ha. Fsckin' HA.


TODAY'S BOOK: "Odds on Miss Seeton", by Heron Carvic ((c) 1975)

TODAY'S WEBSITE: www.cartoonnetwork.com Forget what I said earlier about it. CN has finally figured out how to make their site run normally again.

Labels: baseball, rant