Gimme Fiction

With the Mets now deeply lost in the dark forest, as Keith would put it, I'm left looking for a foothold, a sense of meaning, a way out, something. I was thinking about this the other day: those who root for a perenially losing team feel the misery as a dull, constant ache. Think back a couple years ago. It wasn't anger you were feeling as much as a thudding depression. Now the situation is different. Glancing away from the sad Cavs loss-in-progress over to the other bar TV in time to see Maine give up his third home run in a row, this time to the opposing pitcher (who flipped his bat like Bonds, the little asshole), that searing shot of fire in the chest is nothing other than the anger of the arrogant brought low.

What. The. Fuck. are they doing losing like this, over and freaking over? This is not what this team is supposed to be doing.

You know something? It's an ugly feeling. I'm not proud of it, the fact that I now assume that they're supposed to beat the stuffing out of everyone. That those magical rallies, miracle catches, and crowd-stunning drag bunts are a Met fan's birthright. I mean, who the hell are we, Yankee fans circa '97-'01? Bellowing from our high and mighty perch, we demand our wins. On the other hand, with this team and, ahem, payroll, why shouldn't they be winning, and why shouldn't we expect it? It's just that big supposed to that leaves me feeling uncomfortable, on shaky karmic ground.

So I'll ask: are we being punished for something? Because what's rational about this slump? It isn't entirely the injuries, although personally I think a healthy Moises Alou would count for a lot right now. Still, nobody is hitting with runners in scoring position, and the starting pitchers have all been bitten by the same mystery bug ... except one. Jorge Sosa, who is now one of the most improbable "stoppers" imaginable, and yet there you have it. He's the stopper, the guy set to salvage the team's pride and divisional standing before they limp home to take on the suddenly resurgent Yankees. No pressure, though.

So in trying to do my part, I dug up this photo I think I stole from Deadspin a while ago and have been sitting on, waiting for a time to use it. I can't say why, but I really think it might have some serious hex-breaking capacity. We'll see: