It’s Hard To Be a Mets Fan This Year, And Not Because They’re Bad…

…but because for the first year, I have no one to share my disappointment with.

Me and Keith Hernandez after calling a game at Coors Field in June

I left the partner who introduced me to Mets fandom in November of last year. The joke was always that you aren’t a Mets fan until they’ve disappointed you in a time of high stakes. The first few years of our relationship the Mets were a solid “pretty good”. We watched every game together, discussed lore, the rules, the players, good trades, bad trades, and had our hearts broken by the team together. 2022 was a tease, winning over 100 games but getting eliminated in the wildcard (similar to how our relationship played out).

The start of this year was promising even with the loss of Edwin Diaz after the World Baseball Classic, and the trade of deGrom to Texas, but my core group of guys remained intact- Nimmo, Alonso, McNeil, Lindor, Canha, and Scherzer. But supposed clubhouse drama coupled with losing Diaz and deGrom, and trading away everyone else decent on the pitching staff made my core group’s lives more difficult as 2023 has progressed.

This year I’m watching every game alone. Not always physically alone, but when I would have, in the past, texted my partner about plays, something ridiculous that the booth has said, or what in the world could be going on in the clubhouse, I now have to let the thoughts dissipate into an internal cloud of my own opinion because I have no one around me who loves the game like I do.

And now my core group is disappearing. Canha and Scherzer have been traded away, Pham and Verlander (who are not in my “core” group but still very helpful) have been traded away, while the ultra-deserving-of-success remaining guys experience frustration after frustration. I’ve heard whispers of Alonso being on the chopping block. The new guys are promising, but haven’t gotten the hang of the big leagues yet.

So I guess this is what it’s like to be a Mets fan, to have your heart hurt for a handful of guys who have worked their butts off but never achieved a World Series win. Usually Mets fans have each other to commiserate with because they mostly live in Queens, but I live in Rockies territory (whose ownership I deeply disrespect and refuse to root for). There is no one to share my excitement and passion with in real-time. No place to be in a crowd and cheer or groan together (except the one Mets @ Rox series in June). No friends who care about sports because we/they are all musicians, and apparently it’s an unspoken no-no to like both heavy metal AND sports(?) It hurts to love something deeply and not have anyone that cares to hear my musings except the men in my family who are all Red Sox fans.

More than anything, I miss the friendship between me and my ex-partner and his encyclopedic knowledge of baseball, his rants, and having someone to be bummed out with, even though the reasons why I left were clear and doing so was necessary for my personal growth. Perhaps a winning season won’t bring me the gratification that I’m longing for, either.

It’s the connectedness of a shared passion that is missing.

I’ll consider this year my first year of TRUE fandom. This means, acquiring knowledge of my own accord, paying close attention to why ebbs and flows are happening, developing my own, separate and individual love of the boys in the booth and the achievements of the guys on the field, instead of mooching off of someone else’s passion and excitement. I suppose this is the true goal of any passion- to develop your own reasons and experiences that enhance your commitment. It’s all part of the growing process and deciding what aspects of the game and the players’ work ethic I can apply to my own life.

I’m not sure what else to say now that the brain congestion exists on paper. So, onward and upward. LGM forever.