I’m so sick of reading about the Mets these days. I’m seeing one terrible truth unveiled after another. And though I was warned about everything that was coming down before the Mets break camp next next March, it doesn’t make it any easier to see this once proud franchise disintegrate into oblivion.
This song seems appropriate for now to me… hit play and keep reading…
It reminds me of the good old days when things were so simple and uncomplicated.
It reminds me of the great Tom Seaver and what a treat it was to go to the ballpark and watch him pitch.
It reminds me of Gil Hodges and his enduring legacy and the indelible imprint he left on my heart.
It reminds me of Tug and Kooz and Rusty in 1973 and how I learned that it ain’t really over till it’s over, and of course, Ya Gotta Believe.
It reminds me of how much I loved rooting for Lee Mazzilli and Steve Henderson even though they weren’t superstars and nobody cared what their OPS was.
It reminds me of two high schoolers who ignited the fanbase and led us to another improbable World Series.
And of course it reminds me of the exciting Mike Piazza years and Robin Ventura and Fonzie too…
I’ll always remember Big Shea and the way it would resonate and shake to the roar of the crowds…
So many great memories – too many to mention them all in this short space. Now it’s just black clouds and bad times… Lies and deceptions… Smoke and mirrors…. Shame and embarrassment…
We are trapped in a bad dream and until all the people in charge from the top on down are finally gone, there’s no escaping it.
All I want for Christmas is for Wilpon to sell this team and leave on the next jet to Los Angeles. We need an owner to restore order and breathe respectability back into this franchise.
As much as some of you like to think we’re on the right track – we’re not. We’re just pawns in an elaborate con.