Mets sucked , grounding out and then grounding out again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again. I’d tell you more about the first game but a judge ordered me not to . Then after a robust 25 minutes in which nothing bad happened, they sucked once more , striking out and then striking out again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again. I’m allowed to talk about that one but I’d prefer not to.
Times like this arrive now and again for fans of every team, like droughts do for farmers and wipeouts arrive for gamblers. Your baseball team isn’t getting hits and scoring runs, and while you’re no psychic it’s pretty obvious that they never will get hits and score runs again. Every time they are sent out to play a baseball game they will lose, until the current players grow old and are replaced by younger players who will also not win, and this is the way it will be forever and ever, opposite of amen.
That’s not true now just like it’s never been true before, but I know it feels that way, and if I can barely convince myself otherwise what chance do I have with you?
Having lived through these slow-motion blue-and-orange car crashes more than a few times, I’m going to give you some heretical advice: unless you work for the Mets or are a beat reporter or whichever one of us is on recap duty, do something else.
No, not forever. Jeez, it’s not that bad. Just for a night or two.
“But wait!” you say. “It’s not winter, so I have no idea what to do with myself from 7 pm until whenever!”
I know, I’ve struggled with that too. Some suggestions:
- Take a baby step and watch other baseball, trying not to get obsessed about one particular score down there at the bottom of the screen. I’m an MLB.TV subscriber this year and that’s reminded me baseball’s awesome even when it’s not being awesome to you. When the Mets are finished doing whatever terrible thing they’re doing on a given night, I flip around from game to game until I go to bed or nothing’s left. Tonight I saw Sam Dyson  escape a serious fix against the Astros, and Brian Dozier  hammer a walkoff homer for the Twins. Now I’m listening to Vin Scully. He’s narrating a Rockies-Dodgers game with nothing particularly interesting about it, but I already feel a little better.
- Read a book. Amazin’ Again , that’s a good one. Or possibly even something not baseball-related. Those books exist too.
- Take your significant other to the movies. Turn off your phone (you monster), get a big popcorn and don’t worry about RISP (or the lack of them) for two hours.
- Go for a walk. Or a drive. Look around at the world. Listen to the birds, the bugs, or both.
- Go see a band. Don’t ask them to play the national anthem, “Meet the Mets,” “Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” “Lazy Mary,” “Piano Man” or the Kars-4-Kids song. Let them play whatever they want to play. Hum along if you’re so moved.
- Tackle that chore you’ve been putting off. You’ll have a sense of accomplishment and won’t have created another task for yourself by putting a Mets-related fist through the drywall.
The Mets will do what they’re going to do whether you’re there or not. It’s hard to imagine, but it’s true. I went away last summer; the Mets didn’t wait around for me to get back. I’m going away again next week; they’ll soldier on.
The point is that you’re a fan, not an unfortunate who did something ill-advised that earned you an orange vest and three hours a night in the custody of SNY. You have an unlimited supply of GET OUT OF UNFUN BASEBALL FREE cards that you can play any time. This might be a good time to lay one down.
With a night or two away, you’ll feel better. And when you get back, who knows? Maybe things will be different.