Being a Mets supporter is one of the most pessimistic charges in all of professional sports fandom. The underlying fear of the proverbial other shoe dropping is something that has tortured the fanbase for the better part of three decades at this juncture. From 2006 to 2008, those shoes dropped like an anvil and Mets fans were Wile E. Coyote. The images are still emblazoned in their collective memory. In 2006, it was Carlos Beltran’s bat never leaving the comfort of his shoulder as Adam Wainwright’s hook sent the Cardinals to the World Series. In 2007, the lasting image was Tom Glavine being showered with vitriol after giving up seven runs in a third of an inning, completing the disintegration of a seven game lead in less than three weeks. 2008 brought The Collapse Version Deux with home runs from the likes of Wes Helms and Dan Uggla dooming them on the final day again. The interim has been filled with several roster guttings, a Ponzi scheme, and so many other misfortunes filed under “typical Mets.” 2015 has already provided its share of peaks and troughs for Mets faithful. These tortured souls should take solace though that if another downturn is imminent, it will be in the postseason.
Even though they emanate from the sport’s largest market, the Mets find themselves in the plucky underdog role more often than not. With the Yankees in town, the team and the supporting contingent have resided to little brother status. They have played second fiddle to every other team in the division for various stretches of the millennium. The Braves finished off their run of seemingly 450 division titles in a row in the early aughts. The Marlins snuck in a World Series victory before the mantle of NL East figurehead was bestowed upon the Philadelphia Phillies. In recent years, the burgeoning powerhouse known as the Washington Nationals have ascended to the throne. All the while, the Mets have sauntered along the road of mediocrity and irrelevance. That was until this season.
Expectations were not high for the 2015 Mets. With the advent of the second wild card, some pundits would throw their name in the mix more to shake up a stale list of prognostications rather than as a beacon of faith in their ability. The thing is that the ability was there. The starting pitching staff 1-5, with the depth of a bountiful farm system, was one of the finest the National League could boast. Jacob deGrom broke through in a big way and is a legitimate contender for the Cy Young. Bartolo Colon is defying science and nature with each start. Matt Harvey (even with Scott Boras behind him stirring the pot like a devious warlock), Noah Syndergaard, Jon Niese, and Steven Matz are all arms that one would feel some level of confidence in taking the bump in a game that mattered. But could the offense keep pace?
The lineup has had several metamorphoses over 2015. It has had its dry spells, like any team, but has found a way to not only be clutch, but potent as well. They didn’t let subtractions to the lineup form a crutch for them to pin their failures on. Lucas Duda was a stabilizing force in the lineup all season while David Wright’s DL stint grew longer and longer. In Duda’s own disabled list stay recently, the slack was more than picked up by Curtis Granderson and trade deadline acquisition Yoenis Cespedes. The youth movement hasn’t just been a pitching thing, as Michael Conforto and Wilmer Flores have more than proved their worth in regular roles for the club. Still, the sense of impending doom lurks like a dark cloud over the club.
As an eternal pessimist myself, it is easy to see this final month through those orange and blue tinted glasses. The team has done nothing over the past decade to condition your thinking to the contrary. There comes a time though that one needs to sweep the past aside and bring the present into a clearer focus. This Nationals team giving chase to the Mets is not the 2007 Phillies. They are paying players like such, but Washington has their own cavalcade of self-destruction taking place. These final three weeks will not be smooth sailing by any means. It is September baseball. Every game is played with a certain level of trepidation from those in the stands. Nevertheless, assuage your fears. The little brother, the plucky underdog, the biggest city’s Cinderella is off to the ball. Her carriage could still turn into a pumpkin, but that transformation will come closer to Halloween than Mets fans are used to.