Scenes from an apartment in Brooklyn: the Mets


Item One. On things being over.
The Yogi Berra quote “it’s not over until it’s over” has a special place in my heart. Where some take it as a “damn the torpedoes” shot of never-give-up affirmation, as a Mets fan I know the stark, unvarnished truth: the Mets are up by six in the eighth inning? Yeah, well…it’s not over ’til it’s over. The Mets would have to lose an improbable, unprecedented percentage of the remaining games in the season to lose their lock on first place? Uh-huh…but see, it’s not over ’til it’s over. Such is the nature of the Mets.

Item Two. On the significance of things being over.
Autumn 1983, Shea Stadium. The Mets lose by a wide margin. Again. The crowd starts shuffling out of Shea, about as quiet as it is possible for 30,000 people to be. By the time I get to the stairway leading to the 7 train, all 30,000 people are cheering and chanting “We’re number SIX! We’re number SIX!”* at the top of their lungs. Such is the nature of Mets fans.

Item Three. It’s totally not over.
That’s all. Game time.

Item Four. Update.
Holy crap, is it ever over.

* For non-baseball fans: there were six teams in the National League East in 1983. It is not generally considered a good thing to end the season in last place.