Mets Fans Deserve This

If you were there for the Ángel Pagán trade, this is your moment

Yeah, it’s real (MLB.com)

You remember what it used to be like? Lying in bed back in 2011, 2012, 2013, listening to Steve Somers on WFAN late into the night and waiting for that one caller every hour who would finally want to make a point about the Mets, not that there was much to talk about; being fourteen, fifteen, sixteen years old and forcing, just forcing yourself to get excited about whatever nonsense got thrown your way?

“Andres Torres was good the year before last! And Ramón Ramírez, he’s throwing really well!”

“Frank Francisco AND Jon Rauch? Now that’s how you build a bullpen!”

“Bobby Parnell, I’ll tell ya, this guy is the closer of the future. And Tim Byrdak – what more could you want?”

“We got Fred Lewis? No way! Do you even know how good he was in the Minors last year?”

You remember them. The good days, the fun part of life, when every morning brought a new adventure and the biggest problem you could have was a calculus test tomorrow, and all it took to get Mets fans excited was the knowledge that the Mets had toyed with giving Michael Bourn a four-year, $48 million contract before deciding against it.

We were in on him? Oh boy, there it is — we’re back!

Games dragged on. Things got weird. You’d sometimes decide to get excited about third-string catchers and the standings on June 3 and relievers who opened the season with 18 straight scoreless innings, because come on, you had to get excited about something. They were your team; what else were you going to do?

And then time passed, as it does. The Mets entered a new phase, but not quite a different one. You’d hear about Alejandro De Aza and Nori Aoki and Justin Ruggiano and all of their ilk, and you’d hoist a smile onto your face, and say, “hey, he’s a heck of a ballplayer!”

Did you really believe it? Looking back now, you can’t quite remember. It sure felt real at the time, you think, but how could that possibly be? Is it just that around here, you always believe? Like you did in Rod Barajas and Nick Evans and Josh Satin and Chris Capuano? Like you did in every team you’d ever seen, whether it made sense or not? Like you did down the stretch in 2014, when you thought to yourself, “all they need to do to make the playoffs is go 13-3 – they’ve got this!”

Yeah, actually, that’s probably it. You believed. You had to.

And suddenly, wouldn’t you know it, things happened! There were some murmurs about a man with an art collection, a wife who knew what was up, and a long-suffering father-in-law. The rumors fizzled – but suddenly, they were back. And before you knew it, people were wearing masks and you hadn’t seen a game at Citi Field in two years, and one January afternoon you got the news that a future Hall of Famer was your shortstop now, because the new boss had paid him more than any shortstop in history.

And right then, it really, really, seemed like things had changed.

And they had.

Suddenly you weren’t getting excited about Frank Francisco and John Rauch anymore. Not that they weren’t fun. But this was something new. The guys who were coming in, they weren’t exciting because they were quirky or niche. You’d heard of them before. Some of them were just good ballplayers. Some of them were great ballplayers. The world had changed, and sure, you missed the old one a little bit, but man, it was great to realize how exciting it was when the players coming in were actually exciting.

There was the big-name shortstop, then some huge-name pitchers. A few complementary guys, but ones you’d heard of, guys who would make things happen on the field rather than serve mostly as trivia answers. A trip to October. A disappointing follow-up, a new manager, a tough start – and then, out of nowhere, the coolest, wackiest, greatest season you’d ever seen, and a team that was headed nowhere but up.

And all of a sudden…

A Sunday night, football on the radio, winter in New York, and it happens: Juan Soto signs the largest contract in the history of sports.

With the Mets.

And in the middle of all the euphoria, the daze and the joy, you think back to the old days. 2011, 2012, 2013. Being 15 or 16 and waiting endlessly for the next Mets call, the call that sometimes never came. And if you’re like me, you stay up late into the night with WFAN on the radio, and this time, all the calls are about Juan Soto and the Mets. And Steve Somers isn’t on the air anymore, but besides that, it’s perfect.