Thursday, April 24, 2008
New York Mets By The Numbers (Thursday April 24th)
Labels:
Abby Mudd,
Ambiorix Burgos,
Brian Bannister,
By the Numbers,
Omar Minaya
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Highway of Heartbreak: New York Mets
By Abby Mudd
It hit me again this morning, as I walked outside, this time for real. It was sunny and there was a gentle breeze in the air. There was a crisp fall smell in the sky and there was only thing today could be, October. For those of us who live and die by 162 games, 9 innings, and 3 strikes. We knew what time it was, the time for the game's most magnificent to play under the bright lights of a stadium, with miles of fans in a sea of the teams colors floating backwards endlessly, and the distinctly recognizable smell of excitement blowing around with the bright colored leaves on autumn's most glorious night. New York's most beloved team was head to the climax of every baseball fans dream, October baseball, the playoffs.
Except----wait, it then occurred to me sure as day for the first time, in perhaps a definitively clarative state, that my boys of summer, the bringers of spring, were the knights of October, no longer, not this year at least. I mean after all it is hard to believe, a team with such talent, could blow a seven game lead with fourteen left to play. This statistic seems unfortunately epic and unthinkable. And just barely 24-hours after this has occurred, it is still impossible to fathom in my mind, that this indeed reality. It is not some fan fiction creation, nor is it a figment of my worst and most dark nightmares. This is real, and it is no fairytale of any means. My beloved New York Mets, who did by the way, take up a carefully calculated 63 cumulative days of my time, in a 6 month period, had once again did the seemingly impossible. And this time, not in a good way. Against last place teams, They blew it. Dropped it. Sucked it up. I could go on, but I'll spare myself and you. Vanished was their almost guaranteed division title. That's when I realized, and perhaps one of the things our Mets forgot--in life there are no guarantees, and no game is over till the final out.
As a child growing up in "Red Sox Nation", I often heard, "They will break your heart, kid" And of course they weren't talking about future relationships, at least not that of the traditionally romantic kind, and they weren't even talking about the Mets, at least not specifically. Having the memory of the 86 Mets, pass by the time I started to get into baseball, things weren't so great for the Mets. I did not know what, older generations meant to me when talking by the Mets, when they said, They will break your heart sweetheart, and sometime it will hurt more than you can possibly imagine.". I remember the time, a man who probably in 20s said this to me, at a rest stop when I was about 8, and I was enthusiastically talking about the Mets to some person or another. Being, a sully little 8 year old that I was, I replied, "No they won't!". After all, at this point the Mets didn't had many exceptions to live up to anyways. "You'll learn in time, you'll learn in time", he said to me. "You'll see", the "old" Met fan, said to me. I would later learn, in baseball like in life, the game of of playing with no expectations doesn't last, once you start succeeding and once the your team starts winning.
And so, it would be a few years, later. I'd learn. 1998. That year seems ironic to me today, of course. And probably for those of you who remember, what that season entailed, of course, it wasn't nearly as bad, but losing to the Expos, and missing the post season by one game, wasn't the easiest thing to live through. And in 1999, it taught me about the post season for the first time. What a great place it was to be in the glowing nights of October baseball, a full moon over the stadium, a thirst for victory in the air. Robin Ventura's grand slam single, still has a loving place in my heart and even though we lost to Braves, the excitement of it all, made it okay. Still, when it ended in six games, and my eyes began to collect with tears, I knew there was a hope of a next year. And I learned for the first time the meaning of, "There's always next year, kid". And what it really meant.
And 2000, brought, what was my mine, and probably many of my readers first world series. Siting 4 rows behind first bass as a Met fan, in Yankee Stadium, during game one, and after the Mets loss,, and objects of debris became following other Met fans around in snow like flurries, around me tears began to fall down my face. A boy just a few years older than me, turned around and said to me, "There's no crying in baseball." And indeed, I'd heard it before. Yet, after they lost the series. I ripped down, in my 11 year old angst, all the Mets stuff from my wall, which soon made it's way into the waste basket. After that I sunk into a baseball slump, something only which time and lots of wins would heal. And after that I got use to losing. The next spring, I faced the season with no hope. No tears were shed because disappointing acquisitions, errors, lose after lose after lose, and basement seasons were becoming second nature to being a Met fan again. And when you listened to every game, and they one three games that week, it was, well a damn good week. And you were happy, probably happier then you were at pretty much any point in the last thirty days. As the Red Sox gained more wins around me, I stuck with true orange and blue. Despite the fact, it was still a miracle when they won a game. Mike Piazza and Rey Ordonez, figures of my childhood and childhood heroes to me, were getting old and tired. But I, myself, was growing too old for heroes, and now I was thirsting for wins. After all, saying I loved the Mets was getting embarrassing, especially as the people around you became more and more knowledgeable about the sport. It's hard enough being a girl who likes sports sometimes, and it's even harder when you team royally sucks.
And in 03, I saw hope for there was talks of a young Dominican shortstop, who loved the game, who played with talent and spark and pep. And there was talks in the future, of a man named Scott Kazmir. Of course, we don't even need to go there, at least not now, we all know how it ends.
Of course in 2005, I had hope for a good season, at least a little. In fact, if I remember, I had my hope in Jose Reyes. Yet the 2005 season was a roughly painful one. I remember two years ago to this day, a Mets fan, I have long since lost touch with. Told me, "Don't worry next year is ours. And for a long time after that as well. We are having our glory years. Don't worry. Parades are around the corner" and I believed him. And sure enough, 2006 came and he was right. I feel into a deeper love affair with the New York Mets than I ever had before. The New York Mets filled up my soul with the hope of a spectacular season. And they delivered. The very vigor of the team invigorated me. And sure as the day, the Mets rolled right into the playoffs. Their youthfulness, and their shear love for the game was evident to all who watched them even those who despised them. I started to love winning, my Met fan pride was everywhere. I'd tell anyone who'd listen to me. I loved the boys of Queens, and they loved us, their fans. And even though, I don't need to go into the events of game 7, right now, I don't think my fragile tainted soul can take it anymore. But as our October dreams ended, something in my heart reminded me. It was going to be okay, after all as long as the seasons change, a new season of baseball was just around the corner.
I am not lying when I say the first day of the season, I signed my heart away to the Mets. I gave myself fully and completely to them. I remember the first day of the season, like it was yesterday. If I could back to that day now, I'd probably stop myself to be honest. The last 6 months have flew by, and the Mets have become somehow related to every part of my life. For this year, they became every part of my life. For this year, they became my own. I started to feel like part of the team, in a way. I mean at this point, I'd like to believe, after some of the performances I saw, I cared about them more they than they cared about the game themselves. Their wins equaled my happiness, and their losses equaled anger and unhappiness for me. Of course it's always been this way, after all I sold them my soul and heart on the first of April, and it was all right. For awhile at least.
Yet then, something happened, and still I am not sure how it happened. Well, you see, the Mets started playing like I live my life, I hate to say. Half-assing my way through life, I have such a mind, yet I never have opened a book to study in years. When they said, we are so talented we get bored. It reminded me of myself. When you think you have a lock, you get lazy. And when I saw the Mets starting to play, like I live I got scared. I am honestly ashamed to say, that I live sometimes like they play. Yet I see it, I understand how they did it, your so confident in yourself you don't even bother. And that is how they lose to last place teams. And that is how I fail classes. That's why right now, instead of writing the essay part of my exam on public policy, I am writing about the Mets. It seems that Mets have a lot more in common with me today than I ever thought. I think inside of all of us, a part of us, just wants to say, (and forgive me for swearing), fuck it. Let's be lazy. Let's not work our hardest, and let's just slide for a little bit. Of course this is not an excuse for anything. Over the years I have learned a lot about life via baseball. And perhaps this right there, is the most important for me, and perhaps for everyone yet. Just because something is easy, if you lay and down and not even try, and play without spirit no matter how talented you are, or how smart you are, at the end of the day you are going to lose, everything you have. That's how the Mets blew the 7 game lead, and that's how I failed all my classes sophomore year of high school, even though I graduated from college at 18, I know my failures and not giving 100%, cost me my admission to an Ivy League university. Just like the Mets, being lazy, because they get bored, cost them the playoffs. It cost me too, and it costs all of us.
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Labels:
Abby Mudd,
Guest Bloggers
Sunday, August 12, 2007
It Could Always Be Worse… (By the Numbers)
40-120, the record of the 1962 Mets, a winning percentage of .250, considered to be the worst record in modern baseball.
Also in 1962, 801 runs allowed, 192 home runs given up, a team ERA of 5.04. (All club "records.")
And in 1962 and 1965, the Mets had 2 pitchers with 24 losses each.
In 1998, the Mets had a .153 average when pinch hitting.
24.5, the number of games the Tampa Bay Devil Rays are behind in the American League East.
0, the number of days the Mets have not been in first place this season.
86, the number of posts previous to this.
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Labels:
1962,
1986,
Abby Mudd,
By the Numbers,
New York Mets,
Tampa Bay Devil Rays
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Mets by the Numbers (Tuesday, July 19th)
Labels:
Abby Mudd,
By the Numbers,
Jose Reyes,
Records,
Rickey Henderson,
Roger Cedeno,
Stolen Bases
Saturday, July 7, 2007
A New Era of Blogging
It is with great pleasure and pride that I am here to announce the beginning of the next chapter in the global mets history book, with the launch of the group’s blog on the group’s one-year anniversary of existence.
What started out as one person’s dream to bring other fans together in one place to share the common interest and love for the greatest sports team in the world has really become more than what I could have imagined. When I started the facebook group, I figured it would get a few members, but I never knew more of it would come. After fighting off a few other rival mets groups at the start, the group quickly grew to become the largest mets group on facebook. Not only has it become the largest mets group on facebook as it approaches 14,000 members, it also happens to be the largest and most active mets-related social networking group on the whole Internet. The group has become more than just a regular group, and has turned into a community where lifetime friendships have been made. It’s no joke that people in this group have gone to baseball games together, partied together, text message each other, and more on a daily basis.
With growth comes new opportunities and new ideas. Sure we have the facebook group, but why just limit ourselves to that? With so many great members from all age ranges, it only makes sense to do more. So here it is, globalnym’s official blog. We are more than just a regular blog; we are a blog representing some of the greatest and passionate fans in the world. Any one of our 14,000 members is more than welcome to be apart of this blog and contribute. This is what sets us apart from all other blogs out there and this is what will make this project a success.
Finally, I would personally would like to thank each and every one of you for making this possible. I can’t say it enough, but it’s the members who make globalnym what it is today and without each and everyone of you, the group would be nothing. Believe me when I say this, but this is only the beginning.
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Labels:
Abby Mudd,
Alan Kelly,
Dan Haase,
Fans,
Global NYM,
Josh Springer,
Matt Kaufman,
Matt Regan,
Mike Peters,
New York Mets,
Stephanie Dutton,
Zac Wassink
