I'll Believe in Anything

Today was a good day. Today the Mets, one through twenty-five, played like warrior poets, and so did Mike Chico, and so did Chad Cordero.

And tomorrow we wake and it's all on us. Whether we're alive on Monday is back in our hands. Yes, we've got a lot riding on the result in Philly tomorrow, but right now the Mets just have to take care of number one.

161 games later and all that's left is 1:10 tomorrow, and Glavine and Dontrelle, and 55,000 Mets fans raised with one credo: Ya gotta believe.

I bottomed out last night, and when I woke this morning I was a shell of myself. But here we are and we're tied going into the final game of the season. It's not the way we'd have drawn it up on the morning of April 3, but it sure as hell is the way we would have drawn it up on the morning of September 29.

And I'm back. I'm back to thinking of Endy going over the wall. I'm back in that place where everything is possible. Ya gotta believe? Fuck it, I'll believe in anything right now.

I want this team to bring tears to my eyes and champagne to my stomach.

And after questioning their resolve for months, after today, I think they want that too.

- A.F.O.M.G.