Turn the Page
Real nice moment for the Glass Man on the subway this morning. Bought me a Daily News before heading down in to the train, and when I flipped it over, there they were. The keys to the 2008 season. The aces. Johan and Petey.
It really was a beautiful picture, capturing both the hopefulness of spring that is attendant upon all teams equally, and the optimism for the year ahead that is unique to teams such as the Mets, the ones with legitimate hopes of a title.
It was an image I needed to see. You see, the night before my blood had truly been boiling. I'd been reading about the Phillies, and my god does that get my heart rate up. I've found recently that any time I read about the Phillies it gets me worked in to quite a rage.
It's a funny thing really. As long-time readers are aware, my attention to baseball seriously waned in the second half of 2007, right around July 16, the day I shifted in to a new job at my firm.
And so it was that I didn't experience the collapse the way a lot of you did. I suppose I should be grateful that I didn't watch the team's demise unfold game by game; for me it was more like weekend by weekend. I was there when the end came, and when it did, the first person I spoke to, outside of family and Sip, was Lister.
I remember us talking then. I remember saying then that ownership had to do something, they had to express to fans that what happened in 2007 was unacceptable.
At the time we talked about two options: one was firing Willie Randolph, the other was an all-out push for Johan Santana.
At the time neither seemed right; Randolph wasn't the problem, even if he did deserve some share of the blame. And as for Santana, the price was sure to be something completely unacceptable. Jose Reyes. Oliver Perez. Fernando Martinez. Surely one of them would be the cornerstone.
In the end none of them were, and so it was that ownership was able to renew the fanbase's faith. And as I looked at that backpage this morning the rage that remained from the night before -- really, from the season before -- subsided, replaced as it was by a more hopeful thought: my god, this really might be a year to remember.
February 25, everybody. It's fun to dream.
- A.F.O.M.G.
It really was a beautiful picture, capturing both the hopefulness of spring that is attendant upon all teams equally, and the optimism for the year ahead that is unique to teams such as the Mets, the ones with legitimate hopes of a title.It was an image I needed to see. You see, the night before my blood had truly been boiling. I'd been reading about the Phillies, and my god does that get my heart rate up. I've found recently that any time I read about the Phillies it gets me worked in to quite a rage.
It's a funny thing really. As long-time readers are aware, my attention to baseball seriously waned in the second half of 2007, right around July 16, the day I shifted in to a new job at my firm.
And so it was that I didn't experience the collapse the way a lot of you did. I suppose I should be grateful that I didn't watch the team's demise unfold game by game; for me it was more like weekend by weekend. I was there when the end came, and when it did, the first person I spoke to, outside of family and Sip, was Lister.
I remember us talking then. I remember saying then that ownership had to do something, they had to express to fans that what happened in 2007 was unacceptable.
At the time we talked about two options: one was firing Willie Randolph, the other was an all-out push for Johan Santana.
At the time neither seemed right; Randolph wasn't the problem, even if he did deserve some share of the blame. And as for Santana, the price was sure to be something completely unacceptable. Jose Reyes. Oliver Perez. Fernando Martinez. Surely one of them would be the cornerstone.
In the end none of them were, and so it was that ownership was able to renew the fanbase's faith. And as I looked at that backpage this morning the rage that remained from the night before -- really, from the season before -- subsided, replaced as it was by a more hopeful thought: my god, this really might be a year to remember.
February 25, everybody. It's fun to dream.
- A.F.O.M.G.
posted by A Friend of Mr. Glass' at 12:08 AM
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