Every spring brings glimmers of hope and optimism. And every autumn tends to bring sadness and disappointment.
However, I'll never stop rooting for my beloved Mets. I was born under the shadows of Shea Stadium in Flushing, Queens and my heart will always belong to the Mets until the day I die.
As many fans understand, seeing one's team in the World Series may only happen once in a lifetime. The Chicago Cubs last appeared in the Series in 1945. They last won a championship in 1908. How many Cubbie fans have lived and died since then?
So when the Mets made the division series and World Series tickets went on sale, I knew I had to be there. Thankfully, my beautiful wife understood how important this was to me. She sold an arm, a leg, one of her kidneys, and the naming rights to all of our future children in order to buy me an early birthday present...the now-worthless souvenir ticket that you see here.
Tied at 3 games apiece in a best-of-7 series, down two runs with the bases loaded and two outs...that's about as close as you can possibly come to making it to the Series. But with a single strikeout, the Mets season ended. As the saying goes, close only counts when it comes to horseshoes and hand grenades.
Oh well...there's always next season.