How Can You Not Be Romantic About Baseball? (By a Heartbroken Met Fan)

On Sunday night, the New York Mets saw their season come to an end. They took the Los Angeles Dodgers to six games in the National League Championship series. In March, every single Met fan would have signed up for that. In May, when they were one of the worst teams in baseball, it seemed like a fantasy. Even earlier this month when it took an extra day in the regular season to even make the playoffs, it sounded great. The thing is, this Met team, this year, it felt special by the end, so we began to dream. A few years ago, I wrote here about how being a Met fan is like living a tearjerker over and over again. I have tears once again, but they were partly happy tears this season, which is a new feeling. I wrote about my time at Mets Fantasy Camp here and here, which was a surreal experience. Watching my team exceed all expectations in the second half of the season here in 2024? That was just as surreal.

This year was supposed to be a “transitional” one, as the team reloaded for next year and beyond. So, when they came alive, it was incredible. To have them need an epic comeback on the last day of the season, delayed a day by rain, was storybook. Francisco Lindor, their highly paid shortstop, became a legend with a clutch home run. A few days later, down to their last two outs in the Wild Card round against the Milwaukee Brewers, it was Pete Alonso writing his name into the storybook. That was the thing about this team. They never gave up, like it was out of a movie. How they took every punch from the Philadelphia Phillies in the Division Series and gave right back, it made you think that this team was special. They certainly are and were, except that the magic had to end.

The Dodgers were just too good. The Mets were just too tired. I went out to Citi Field for Game Three to see them in person and you could just feel them running on fumes. It was disappointing and heartbreaking, but there was so much joy before it, I’ve begun the healing process earlier than usual. Plus, it really does seem like the team is on the rise.

The other reason this has been such an emotional and special run for the team is how it made me miss/feel closer to my mom. She’s been gone a year and a half now, so she missed last season (one we all could have stood to have missed). Here’s the thing, though…she never missed a game if she could help it. If the score was 11-2, she was locked in, regardless of if the Mets were up or down. When I was at Fantasy Camp, I know it tickled her to see me interacting with former players who she rooted for. So, it’s always been a connection.

When the Mets were nearing the end of the season and it was getting intense, I began thinking about how much fun this would have been for her. When they clinched a playoff spot, I reached for my phone to text her, which is something I hadn’t done in a year. I was in tears for the team, but also that pang of sadness, for someone not getting to experience something I knew they would have lived for. The Mets obviously had no idea she existed, but once they were in the playoffs, I wanted them to put on a show for her.

Here’s a thing I haven’t told anyone. When the Mets were down to their final outs and Alonso was up at bat, I fulled expected it all to end. That’s not the surprising revelation…we all know I’m a fatalistic fan. It was that, despite me not being spiritual in the least, I said, out loud, “sorry Mom. I really wish they could have done this for you.” Seconds later, this happened:

A few people in my life saw my reaction afterwards. The tears and the shock. A select few saw me yell “grand slam” days later when Lindor hit one to put the Mets in front of the Phillies for good. It was incredibly special that I got to share this run with them, even when I knew someone was missing.

There’s a line in the movie Moneyball. It goes “how can you not be romantic about baseball?” No sport does this to people in the same way. The agony and the ecstasy of being a fan is only exacerbated by rooting for the New York Mets. Here’s the thing, though…when they’re good, nothing is better. The city comes alive. It sure seems like that’s going to be the case going forward, and that’s comforting me today, as is the knowledge that my mom would have had so much fun these last few weeks. She’s gone, I struggle with that plenty, but in a way, she was back at the TV with me, living and dying on every pitch or crack of the bat. The Mets gave that to me, and all I can do in return is continue to give them my undying fandom. You can count on that much.

Here are the voices of the Mets, Howie Rose on the radio and Gary Cohen on television, putting it all into perspective:

Here’s to the 2024 New York Mets. My mom would have loved watching this adventure…

Let’s Go Mets!