In October of 2006, during Game 7 of a playoff series against the St. Louis Cardinals, New York Mets left fielder Endy Chávez made one of the greatest catches in Major League Baseball history. I was fast asleep, seeing as it was past my bedtime on a school night and I was only 8-years-old. Those circumstances, though, didn’t stop my dad from sprinting up the stairs and bursting into my room to wake me up. As we both rushed back downstairs, he told me that Chávez had just made the best catch in Mets history and that I had to see it. I eagerly stood around in my pajamas, watching my dad recreate the seemingly impossible catch while waiting for a replay to be shown on the TV.
Then, despite the massive shift in momentum, the unthinkable happened– the Mets, as they had done so many times before and so many times since, lost the game.
But, for me, the damage was already done. I, officially, had Mets Fever. From that moment on, I was cursed to live in a constant cycle of hope and heartbreak. But, even though I know, deep down, what lies ahead for my team, I still believe that this is our year. The Mets have picked up the best pitcher on the market, added some big bats to the lineup, and showed the rest of the league that they have deep pockets and aren’t a team to be trifled with.
The Strokes have a song that I love called “Ode to the Mets”. When the band’s drummer, Fabrizio Moretti, was asked about why the song was called that, he said that “both the Mets and the song evoke ‘something that you love unconditionally but that continues to disappoint you.’”
Tomorrow is Opening Day and, without a doubt in my mind, I’m ready to be disappointed again.
Official Record Prediction: 89-73
this is actually so sweet