Do not weep for me; nor should you feel scorn. To be a fan of the Mets is to be initiated in the Mysteries of Despair. We have all accepted our fates. We are necessary. Step over our prostrate forms, and leave us with our burdens in peace.
PS: Yes, it’s old. But nothing that I wrote was untrue.
Apparently the Mets liked what they saw: “Tim Tebow’s foray into professional baseball is going to get a lot more challenging Sunday when the erstwhile quarterback and New York Mets outfield prospect reports to the Arizona Fall League, a circuit reserved for elite prospects on the doorstep of the major leagues.” If he does well there, Tebow may be playing for the Mets as a 30 year old rookie next year. …Dude’s had an interesting career, huh?
From his Esquire interview:
My wife says to me, “Why did you make our son be a Mets fan? You coulda let him be a Yankee fan and he coulda been happy.” I said, “As a Mets fan, he’s going to understand pain and disappointment. Other losses that he experiences in life, he’ll keep in perspective.” You don’t change your loyalty.
To be a Mets fan is to be an intimate in the mysteries of pain.
Twenty sports fans rules. Especially #20:
20. If you hail from New York, you can’t root for the Yankees and the Mets. You have to choose between them. Repeat: You have to choose between them. Don’t give me this “As long as one of them is doing well, at least New York is winning” spiels. What is this, the sports fan’s version of bisexuality? How about making a choice? Any New Yorker who said the words “It’s the Yankees versus the Mets … I can’t lose!” during the 2000 World Series deserves to be tortured with a cattle prod.
For the record? Mets. That was my father’s team… and that’s pretty much that, damn your eyes.