Yesterday, I attended my 29th consecutive Mets' home Opening Day (and 34th overall.)
The feeling of renewal and rebirth I usually possess on this day has me leaving Shea Stadium more buzzed than do the two dozen beers I've just downed.
Not to mention the good feeling one gets from a usual Mets' Opening Day victory.
But the buzz I felt yesterday was just from the beer. The Mets were flatter than a 1972 can of Rheingold, losing to whom else but Jimmy Rollins and the Philadelphia Phillies.
I have the feeling I'm not the only one hung over this morning. The Mets are still hung over from their historic collapse last season...
•The bullpen, which absolutely crashed last September, has yet to be towed from the ditch. They cannot get the job done.
•Jose Reyes, who ran and hid offensively in September last year, has yet to return.
•Willie Randolph seems to be more cautious in his optimism. That has spilled over into the stands, where the fans are wondering if the Mets will ever emerge from this funk.
•Injuries—specifically those to Pedro Martinez, Moises Alou, Luis Castillo, and El Duque—have also tempered the optimism that was carried in with the acquisition of the super-armed Johan Santana. I predicted this move would have little effect on the overall performance of the club, and so far I'm right.
It's a long season. But as my father, a 70-year veteran of the New York baseball scene, says, "You can take that any way you want," meaning that it just might be a long season.
With CitiField looming large behind me (I was sitting in the picnic area), I lost my bearings. It sits like an eyesore amongst the junkyards, Shea, and the rotting overpass of the train. Ha!
Why would anyone wear a Yankees hat and jersey to a Mets-Phillies game? I don't know, maybe they have nothing else to wear. There is also the possibility that these people are just complete morons. After all, they are wearing Yankee garb...