So gang, we are here. We made it through September and we are on the verge of embarking on October baseball, my favorite part. It was so close, I could taste it on the tip of my tongue, smell the ruminations of it as I pulled out my sweaters and boots.
I am supposed to be enjoying this, it is supposed to be delicious, it is supposed to be like dessert, after a long season of struggle, triumph, victories, defeats. But no dessert for me. I am stressed, sad, hurt, angry, upset, sugar deprived and just generally on suicide watch at this point.
How can it be that we dominated all season long and for the last two weeks we look like the Rockford Peaches could take us down? I just can't understand how we could come so far, but it could all feel so faraway. I know if you are reading this, you know what I am talking about.
I know we have all lost confidence in the Mets pitching, but some words from pitching coach Rick Peterson in tomorrow's Times:
“It doesn’t make sense to think about the past for the next four games,” Peterson said. “The present is really a good place to be.”
Baseball's no different than anything else - One day at a time, one day at a time. It's all I've got.
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