For better or worse this will be the last "Nightly Depressed Met Fan Rant" of the year. I'm mentally and physically drained from this shit show, so rather that try to organize my thoughts in any coherent matter, I'm just going to resort to lazy-ass bullet points for this post.
- I had the pleasure of witnessing the punctuation of this historic collapse first hand. My voice is pretty much shot from 3 1/2 hours of booing. Plus after the final out, I leaned over the loge railing and yelled "You Suck" in a near shriek for a few minutes. That obviously didn't help matters. In retrospect I should have tried to sneak closer to the dugout so my cries wouldn't have completely fallen on deaf ears.
-Good riddance to Tommy Glavine. You laid an egg big enough for the Goobleygooker to hatch out of. Your first and last outings as a Mets starter were embarrassingly awful and I had the unfortunate pleasure of sitting in Shea for both of them. You stink. Have fun pitching in Atlanta next year. When you come back to Shea I will boo you mercilessly and I hope the rest of the fans will as well, you strikezone nibbling, emotionally vacant fuckwad.
-After Fat Castro just missed hitting a grand slam in the bottom of the first, I turned to my brother and said "Game over." I know I was really going out on a limb proclaiming a 7-0 ballgame out of reach, but they had to counterstrike swiftly and alas they could not.
- To the jerkoff behind me who stayed positive and optimistic throughout the entire game, I hope you die soon.
-Is Jose Reyes on drugs? Tremont and I spoke on this topic today and it seems entirely possible. Jose has been a different person of late. He lacked focus for much of the second half of the season, making mental mistakes in the field and on the basepaths. Also, his approach at the plate has deteriorated to that of a little league bench warmer. Alarmingly, he stopped hustling and made weak out after weak out without making any discernible adjustments. Another possible explanation for his September swoon involves a hot blond chick, a hotel room, and a glass table. More to follow on that at a later date.
-While we're on the topic of Reyes, it appears that the fans love affair with Reyes has come to an end. Jose was booed lustily in all of his at-bats today. The jeers easily drowned any attempted "Jose...Jose, Jose, Jose" chants. Until the past two weeks Reyes had been Teflon, but I guess when your average drops 40 points and you go 0 for September, the fans will voice their displeasure. It certainly didn't help that while he was doing his best Juan Pierre impression and the season was falling apart, he was smiling and yucking it up with the opposition. Not the best way to endear yourself to the fans or your teammates. It will be interesting to see if any anti-Reyes rumblings leak out of the clubhouse.
- I can't believe I invested so much time and effort in these choking dogs. I feel like a fool. This is going to hurt for a real long while. As a result, I will not be viewing much of this season's post season, so you will have to rely on Tremont for playoff analysis. Now that the Mets are done I have nothing to look forward to in my life. I need sports in order to escape from the trappings and misery that is working for a living, but now my dancecard is completely empty. The Jets stink, the Gators are no longer undefeated, and the Knicks and Redmen are going to stink. I've got nothing. Ugh.