CyberMusings

The last two seasons have begun with a tremendous sense of hope for the New York Metropolitans.  The last two seasons have ended with a sense of utter despair for the team, and more acutely, the fanbase.   Changes to the equation that had failed us the last two seasons were needed and made.  Whether the new equation, consisting of a new ballpark that couldn’t have come at a better time and, more importantly, a revamped bullpen with a dominating closer at the back end, will serve to erase the failures of the last two years is yet to be seen.  On this day in rainy Cincinnati, the second part of the new equation held up their end of the bargain.  May it always be thus.
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I drove 380 miles in one direction just so that I could see a baby boy’s dazzling smile.  An invitation extended by my brother Mike, in a not completely lucid moment, led to a road-trip that I needed more than he probably knew.  The calendar had flipped from 2008 to 2009, ending what had been a tumultuous year for me physically, mentally, and emotionally.  While there was plenty of good among the considerable amount of bad, the net result had left me drained.  The new year required a renewal of perspective.  What better way to do it than to see the world through an infant’s eyes?   Thus, I was off to see my nephew Owen.

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I didn’t stay for the ceremonies.  I will make that admission at the beginning in case anyone was hoping for my take.  I’m sure they were touching.  I’m sure they were very sentimental.  I’m sure if I had stayed through the very long delay between the end of a season and the last goodbyes to a stadium, I would have been feeling suitably nostalgic.  It was not to be.

In retrospect, the events leading up to the end should have served as a warning.  Once again, my Mets went into a final weekend series against the Florida Marlins fighting for their playoff lives.  Once again, a Mets pitcher threw the game of his life on the final Saturday in order to keep hope alive.  Last year it was John Maine throwing a one-hitter.  This year it was Johan Santana tossing a complete game shutout on only three days rest.  If those parallels didn’t serve enough warning, the weather should’ve been the final signal of what was to come.

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While much of the country turns its attention to this first Sunday of the pro football season, I turn my attention to Flushing Meadows, NY.   For today, the Mets and Phillies have a day-night doubleheader and I will be at the nightcap.  It should’nt have been this way.  The second game was originally a day game moved to accomodate ESPN.  And as much as I might gripe about an 8:05 start (on a Sunday?!?!?!?), karma appeared to be on the schduler’s side as yesterday’s game was rained out and suddenly the afternoon was available for a makeup.

The Phillies had taken the opener of the three game set on Friday night to move within two games of the division lead.  Recent history suggests the Mets will take the next two.  Recent history (or possibly just my perception of it) also suggests that the Mets don’t do well in doubleheaders.  Something has to give.

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The start of the football season had threatened to take me by surprise.  Between the Carlos Delgado revival show, the trip to Pittsburgh for both matters of family and baseball, and just the general mayhem that is summer time, I was mildly surprised to note that last Thursday was going to be opening night.

It’s not that I had been ignoring my Giants.  I had kept abreast of the latest news, whether it be the draft, Michael Strahan’s retirement, Osi’s season-ending injury, Strahan’s possible return…..oh…..and the trade of Jeremy Shockey.  It’s just that my Mets had made this a much more interesting baseball season than I could’ve hoped for after the blase` first half.

Still, with the Mets having an off day ahead of the showdown with the hated Phillies (yes, they’ve reached that status), and having come off a great stretch of baseball, I was able to turn my attention to Opening Night.

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