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Photo via New York Times
I like it when the Mets win, even when the more they lose, the more fervor gets churned about how much the Wilpons suck at running a baseball team. I'm not one for tanking (even if the result is a draft pick of glorious nature down the road.) I want miracles. I want Amazin' times. I glitch, though, when I utter, "Amazin'," because the nickname was arrived at in an ironic state, referring to the Amazin' Mets of 1962.
By 1969, however, Amazin' was literally that, as we recollected on this past weekend. That is how quickly things can change.
The "They" everyone talks about like to say, "Success is luck and preparation intersecting" or however you want to phrase it yourself. It would seem, cynically enough, that any success under the
Wilpons, whether it is one isolated game or years like 2015 and 2016, is more luck than preparation. I'm sick of them proving us right, but as hard as it is to watch the nature of 2017, '18 and '19 after two great years in a row, I would never trade the joy and glow the memories of those two years have provided me. As much as we can sometimes laugh off the awful nature of the way things have gone, I'd still rather they figure out how to prepare to string together a bunch of 2015's and 2016's in a row.
The winning streak has to start somewhere...
BEAT. THE. YANKEES.
LET'S. GO. METS.