The 2009 World Series

Careful CMG readers might have picked up on the fact that I like baseball. A lot. The caveat being that it’s Mets baseball. Ever since my father sat me on his lap and forced me to watch every one of Dwight “Doc” Gooden’s televised starts in 1985, I’ve been hopelessly hooked. I can tell you exactly where I was, and what I was doing fifteen seconds prior, when Mookie Wilson’s basic grounder trickled between Bill Buckner’s wickets during Game Six, and yet I had just turned seven. I cried my eyes out the next day when my father told me excitedly that he had two field level tickets for the decisive Game Seven, one for him, and one for…my grandfather. Dads can be so cruel.

I’ll be the first to admit that my Mets fandom borders on seriously unhealthy, often resulting in screaming followed by thrown car keys followed by angry text messages to fellow CMG Mets sufferer Chris Alexander when things get ugly. That scenario played itself out a lot this season, as the Mets, after opening a shiny new stadium and being picked by Sports Illustrated to go all the way, finished a pitiful 70-92, as both a result of heinously sloppy play and nearly the entire team being on the disabled list. Actually, in terms of sheer frustration, this early summer flameout may have been preferable to the 2007 and 2008 seasons, where the Mets spent most of the time in first place only to squander it with nightmarish Septembers, their fate in both seasons being sealed by the Florida Marlins on the final game of the year (eat a dick, Tom Glavine).

So, being a baseball nut who lives in New York City, the man on the street will ask me who I’d like to see win the forthcoming 2009 World Series, and they get surprised when I respond with disparaging comments about their mothers. To the Mets diehards, a New York Yankees/Philadelphia Phillies World Series is the ultimate insult, a poisonous cherry atop a sundae of shit. Mets fans have called it Satan’s Series, the Sophie’s Choice Series, the sports equivalent of asking a Pinkerton (1996) obsessive to choose between Make Believe (2005) and The Red Album (2008).

It’s possible to be a New York Giants fan while still somewhat appreciating the New York Jets when they play well. This does not apply to baseball. True Mets fans simply despise their crosstown rivals. Anybody who tells you they live in New York, and therefore can root for both, obviously care little about either. The Yankees have the highest payroll in baseball, and represent a collective of soulless mercenaries with at least two players making more $$$ individually than the entirety of the Tampa Bay Rays. (Granted, the Mets aren’t exactly cheapskates in that regard, but work with me here.) Yeah, the Kansas City Royals might be pretty good too if their offseason spending spree consisted of Mark Texeira, A.J. Burnett, and C.C. Sabathia as a complement to Alex Rodriguez. This is hysterically accurate, and probably written by a Mets fan. Plus, the Yankees bandwagon fanbase is unbearable, consisting of oblivious city tourists who purchase Yankees caps thinking the NY merely stands for New York, as well as people like my stepmother-in-law, who seem to harbor no interest in baseball whatsoever until the Yankees reach the World Series. Their new stadium is an ugly mausoleum that houses both a Johnny Rockets and, wait for it, a Hard Rock Cafe.

Now the Phillies are a touch more complicated, though they already won their first World Series since 1980 last season, which is reason enough for anybody outside of the Philadelphia area to not want them to do it again. And to be fair, until roughly 2005, most Mets fans ignored the pleasantly mediocre Phils in favor of hating on the Atlanta Braves, whose decline has coincided with Philadelphia’s ascendancy. The likes of silent “gamers” like Phils second baseman Chase Utley and hulking RBI machine Ryan Howard have long since replaced Chipper Jones and Brian Jordan as the prime divisional targets for Mets hatred. But not only are the Phillies hated divisional rivals whose pasty-faced, smugger than smug, ace pitcher once referred to the Mets as “chokers,” they’re also secretly the very type of team that Mets fans wished they fielded: a collection of young, homegrown talent and intelligent free-agent signings by general management that actually thinks outside of the box, as opposed to overpaying for obvious superstars, all of whom instantly start to suck the moment they set foot in Queens. There’s unquestionably an element of jealousy here.

Regardless, the best a Mets fan can possibly hope for here is close, well-played baseball games with embarrassing moments for both sides; i.e. Alex Rodriguez striking out in the 9th inning with the bases loaded and the Yankees down by a run as Kate Hudson looks on in horror, Derek Jeter dropping a routine pop-up which leads to unearned runs, Shane Victorino taking a C.C. Sabathia fastball in the ‘nads. If pressed, I’m going to meekly root for the Phillies, if only because I can’t hate on Pedro Martinez, I’ve despised the Yankees longer, and Philadelphia’s craft beer bars are strangely superior to those in NYC. But there’s no real winners here, and FOX gets completely screwed by missing out on the west coast market entirely. Blargh.