I know all of you are, too.
It is 5:35am as I type this time. Oh, it turned 5:36 before I finished the sentence.
AP Photo via nypost.com |
As many people are pointing out, however, Mickey, and any manager, can be scapegoated as much as the Wilpons want, but they themselves are the King-Kong-sized gorilla in the room. They are the only constant since 2002. We all know how the majority of those seasons have gone. The seasons that haven't gone that way where the Mets contend have only experienced two (ok, three) playoff appearances. None of which have the Mets winning the last game of the year. Two of which they contended till the last day of the season only to get completely exposed for their lack of preparedness.
There is, however, no firing of those men. Those men will stay until they decide to cash in their Park and Boardwalk deeds.
As I said on Friday, however, I ain't going anywhere either. If you're reading this, you most likely aren't as well. You will state, "I've had it with this team," but still decide after you're fed up with the Game of Thrones finale (once you catch up on-demand) to check in on the Mets game that night. They might be losing 2-0 to the Marlins once more, and you'll raise both your hands and say, "Figures!" But you ain't going anywhere. Unfortunately, the Wilpons know that. Maybe one day, however, they will see enough of it in their bottom line to recognize that even they have a deeper river bed than they thought.
The rocks are slimy down there. They're covered in mud. Somewhere under there, however, is at least 2 billion dollars. We the fans, though, should always be careful what we wish for. It could always be worse.
Nowhere to go but up from here? The truth that is not.
All we can do is
KEEP. ON. PUSHIN'.
LET'S. GO. METS.
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