Misery Loves Company: Two Guys Watch Baseball

Games 77 through 80 - Mets

Yankees 6, Mets 4
Yankees 7, Mets 1
Yankees 9, Mets 8
Yankees 5, Mets 3
Record: 34-46

Would that I could, I'd refute my diminutive colleague's slew of gratuitously profane Met comments today. Sadly, I cannot. The Mets willingly handed over bragging rights to the Yankees and their fans. The thing is, after the Mets' performance of late, the Yanks may not be that thrilled to have them -- it's really nothing worth bragging about (though their fans have never been overly judicious in that department). And as much as taking a four-game beating (six, overall) might make me scream and shout about who did what that killed them in these series, instead it's just another one of those punches in the gut that takes the wind from my sails and leaves me lethargic. So, let's not bicker and argue about who killed who. (In doing so, Al Leiter, great guy that he is, is ducking further examination of his decline.)

This stretch of the season, as we reach the halfway point after tonight's battle royale with Les Expos, may prove to be the most challenging for me. It seems like just last week I prophesized (with amazing accuracy, yet again, pat pat pat, toot toot toot, whoop-de-damn-do) that "this may be the apex of my 2003 baseball season enjoyment." (In truth, it was just 11 days ago.) That fleeting high I was on -- and let's face it, what a pathetic season to have extracted that much satisfaction from that little productivity -- evaporated in a blink. I won't delve much further, given the 81-Game Check-up forthcoming, but it's going to take a herculean effort for me to maintain the energy to continue posting daily tidbits about Mets games. What with the horrendously-planned agenda in my immediate future (2nd baby + moving within the next 10 days), it would be fantastic to have a happy distraction from these unprecedented stress levels. In a perfect world (for me -- this would be a little slice of hell on earth for Rob Russell), the perennially-contending Mets would be running away with it, I could follow their run to the best of my ability and weigh in where necessary. Sadly, the Metropolitans' woes are surely inducing a malaise over me, and any distraction they offer I'll try to block from my thoughts. The only bright spot in this grey, nearly black cloud forming over Shea is that, in general and in my opinion, troubled times often make for more humorous banter (dark comedy, of course). There is something more innately funny to others about a man in agony than there ever can be about a man in an equally gleeful state.

So, a sense of obligation to share with my reader(s) the misery in which I wallow, in hopes of achieving a cackle at my expense, may carry me through these dark hours; beyond that, there may be nothing but the links on the side to keep this from becoming an all-BoSox site. Stay tuned.