Living the Dream vs. Eric Fedde
It's exhausting to get worked up over everything the Mets do...so just enjoy baseball.
Look: the Mets will be fine. I’m really not too worried about it. They’ll win 94 or 97 or 103 games, and they’ll win either the division or the wildcard, and they’ll go to the playoffs, where who knows what will happen. If two consecutive 7-1 losses to the Nationals prove anything, it’s that no one has any idea at all what’s going to happen, ever. If history is any guide, the Mets will go to a best-of-three wildcard series, and Max Scherzer will take a 5-4 loss in Game 1, then David Peterson will throw a complete-game shutout in Game 2, then Taijuan Walker will get knocked out early in the decisive Game 3, and Shaun Marcum Tommy Hunter will go seven innings in long relief and the Mets will pull out a 9-6 win. No one has any idea, and that’s the whole point.
The Mets didn’t lose to the Nationals because of any of their faults, real or imagined. They didn’t lose because they didn’t get a reliever at the deadline, or because James McCann is batting one-whatever, or because all their starting pitchers are in their 30’s. They lost because teams lose. It’s not satisfying and it’s not part of some sort of ongoing pernicious trend; it’s just the truth. Losses happen, and you may quote me on that.
The Mets have assembled a quality team, and that’s all you can do. They have a good rotation and a good lineup. They weren’t “out-hustled,” and they didn’t “mail it in,” and they were only “lifeless” because sometimes baseball sucks the life out of you. Some liners found gloves, which happens. Jeff McNeil made a tough bobble, which…wait for it…happens. Some Nationals who never hit home runs hit home runs, which happens, and some Mets who often hit home runs didn’t, which also happens. It happens. It happens.
The Mets aren’t imploding. They weren’t fatally flawed from the start. The season isn’t over. They lost because teams lose, and they’ll win because teams win. The key to a baseball season is that frustration isn’t failure.
The hits will come. Francisco Lindor’s fly ball will eventually go over the fence. Mark Canha’s flyout will turn into a double. Daniel Vogelbach’s line drive will find the outfield. Carlos Carrasco will get a fortunate strike call, and the heartbreaking home run will turn into an at-bat that never happened. There’s not much else to say. That’s baseball, Suzyn.
We, Mets fans, were built for this. Born into it. This was the whole point of watching Kevin Plawecki pitch and John Mayberry Jr. hit and Daniel Murphy play the field. Cespedes got gored by a boar. Duda’s throw to the plate sealed our fate. Familia entered in the ninth in the Wild Card game, and we knew we’d lost when we heard his name. It happens. This is baseball — Mets baseball. If you’re not used to it by now, bear down and buckle up.
This Mets team is a good one. Take my word for it. I’m still young, but I did watch the 2012 Mets reach a highwater mark of 46-39 and think to myself, “maybe this is our year.” I saw the 2017 Mets open the season strong, and thought to myself, “there’s no way this can go wrong.” I knew I was wrong, but I still believed. Ya gotta. And let me tell you: this team isn’t those teams. The 2022 Mets are something new, something different, something I’ve never seen before and may never see again. If the Mets go 6-21 the rest of the way, they’ll have the most wins a Mets team has had in 16 years. If they go 13-14, they’ll be the best Mets team since 1988. If they go 16-11, they’ll be the second-best Mets team of all time.
Sure, it’s stressful. There’s no use pretending it’s fun to watch the Mets lose, then hear yet another story about the Braves: “Atlanta prospect Jim Bob Nurple, age 19, who briefly worked as a plumber, went 4-for-5 with two homers and six RBIs yesterday, raising his batting average to .691 after signing a 17-year, $4 million contract that could make him a Brave for the rest of his career.” It’s absolutely unbearable; the Braves deserve none of it, and I can’t wait until 2023, when they’ll go 80-82 and spend the season complaining that life isn’t fair. But until then, we wait.
Right now, there’s baseball, and that’s reward enough. It’s frustrating and mind-numbing and it takes years off our lives, but that’s the whole point. There’s a game tomorrow; be happy about that. There’s already a chill in the air. Soon it will be mid-winter, and playing bad defense while getting shut down by Eric Fedde will sound like a dream come true.