don't get your hopes up, kid

So, I've been a New York Mets fan since I was in the womb. Literally, baseball is in my blood, and there are few things in the world that make me as happy as when I'm watching a good baseball game. One of the worst parts of moving to California was losing much of my immediate contact with my Mets--those lovable losers. Over the years, we've had a bunch of ups and downs, but no matter how ridiculous they get with the losing and disappointment, I always come back for more, because I'm a fan, and I'm stubborn, and I really haven't got anything better to do. To be sure, though, being an avid Mets fan has probably shaved a good 10 years off my life--and counting. I'd like to think those were the 10 shitty years, though.

The real reason I keep coming back, though, is because every so often, they'll do something amazing, like the kind of shit that you'll only see in a movie or something--like pulling out the 1986 World Series or Robin Ventura hitting the "grand slam single" to beat the braves in game 5 of the 1999 NLCS in the 15th inning (felt like the 40th inning to be honest).

Today I was sitting in this bar that I'd rather never go to, but went today because I can get free lunch there. It's a total fraternity boy spot, and while I realize not all fraternity boys are assholes, I've had enough run-ins to keep me away. Besides, you can only listen to so much Godsmack blaring over a crowded room before you go crazy. But the place makes a mean cheese steak and when you're poor as I am, you've gotta do what you gotta do. It's pretty empty during lunch time, and since all the students were gone, it was downright desolate. I sat at a booth that was playing Sportscenter, and that's when I read on the tickertape at the bottom of the screen that my stupid Mets had signed five-tool stud Carlos Beltran to a seven year deal. Of course, I phoned my father immediately. I had to leave a message but he called me right back.

"We got Beltran," I said.

"I know," my father answered. "I found out last night. I was going to call and tell you, but it was late."

See? It totally runs in the family. Like snoring.



The hopes and dreams--at least regarding baseball--of my father and I now lay, more or less, on this guy's shoulders. Let's see how many years being a part of the Mets takes off of his life.

Anyway, Carlos, welcome to my blog, and welcome to the Mets! I hope you know what you're getting yourself into. With any luck, you won't be another high-profile bust, because really good players such as yourself like to forgot how to play baseball once they don the orange and blue; and I apologize in advance for all the cursing your name I may be doing in the future. I'll leave the negativity behind for now and just be happy that such a great player will wear my favorite team's uniform. With any luck, your stay will be a pleasant one.