And so to counter that pain, I use this site as therapy. It gives me an outlet to express my frustration, to get things off my chest. To vent, as they say. Those of you who read this site may notice that I write more frequently after a crushing defeat. That's because I need an outlet to go off. (Dave, my counterpat on this aptly named blog, is a prolific blogger and the main engine behind it). My wife, while supportive of my silly addiction to this perennial loser of a franchise, isn't interested in my sulking. She'll listen sure, but she still can't relate and who could blame her? We're talking about a baseball team playing a game. There are a million other important things going on in this world right now that is more important than the Mets winning. But whatever it is inside me, whatever vice is gripping me, I cannot control it. I cannot get rid of it. And when the Mets puke one out like last night, it just knocks me out.
This morning, when I woke up (barely slept mind you) still dazed from the inexplicable "drop" by Castillo, I started to check out the blogs. I needed to find the community of die hard Mets fans who are relentlessly loyal and similarly tortured. There, I found the voices of agony, years of pain heartache, and misery all pouring out like one gigantic therapy session. "Hi, my name is Bryan, and I am a Mets Lifer." "Hi, Bryan." Many articles shared the same sentiment: We're fed up with this team, with this organization. We can't take the hurt anymore. This one was spot on.
And then I checked out Greg Prince's Faith and Fear in Flushing and read the most articulate, the most insightful and honest piece ever written about the Mets and their management. Prince is so dead on accurate about what has happened and what needs to happen in Queens that his piece should be given the equivalent of the Pulitzer Prizer for sports blogging. It is that good. Do yourself a favor and check it out. You will not be disappointed.