Image credit: Chris Simon
We’ve been hearing it for years. Meaningful games in September, like it was some sort of mythical promised land.
Imagine publicly setting the bar for success, but doing so a half-dozen notches below the actually means something line? This was the crux of being a Mets fan for about as long as many of us can remember.
Sure, there were peaks. But more often than not, some magical, incredible run (or the completely uncharacteristic spending spree of the mid-2000s) was needed to push the Mets toward glory. Chasing down a dream was the name of the game for this franchise for soooo long, and in the most literal sense of the phrase.
Whether they were looking up in the standings at Atlanta or Philadelphia or Washington or a handful of teams ahead of them in the wild-card race, meaningful games always seemed to be Mets shorthand for OK, now’s your time to overachieve. Just look at 2015.
Not this year, though. Atlanta heads into Sunday two games back, but the Mets control their destiny. Nothing else. That alone should be enough to put a little smirk on our faces and an extra pep in our steps.
Under current management, organizational-wide intentions of actually winning the whole damn thing have replaced the endless search for that not-so-happy medium between profitability and wins.
To be honest, that’s what the last regime never seemed to understand. Field a winner, and fans will line up 10 deep in the concourse to come and watch the show.
Anyway, as noted here and via many other outlets over the last year or so, this all feels much different than whatever we’ve grown accustomed to seeing from this team, on and off the field, over the years.
Instead of customarily playing from behind (in-game, divisional, in the wild card, and otherwise) and hoping for a few good breaks, these Mets are creating their own opportunities.
What began in the offseason with the hiring of a true baseball savant in Buck Showalter, a few well-tailored pickups in Starling Marte, Mark Canha, and Eduardo Escobar to accentuate the existing core, and pairing a couple of generational starting pitchers at the top of the rotation has evolved into an entire vibe in Flushing.
Heck, right before our orange and blue eyes and just underneath our parking-lot pretzeled noses, Queens has become the unofficial epicenter for the return of old-school, hit ‘em where they ain’t, never back down and absolutely never quit baseball. Bet no one had that on their bingo card.
As the calendar has flipped to September on Mr. Cohen’s Wild Ride, it’s extremely tough not to reflect on Septembers past and not revel in the beauty of what’s happening as of late. And, presumably, what will keep developing at the corner of Roosevelt and 126th, moving forward.
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