Chalk these fears up to the fact that I had never touched a version of OOTP before. Hell, the only sports games I had played for a significant amount of time in the past decade were NBA 2K12 and NBA Jam: On Fire Edition. And in NBA 2K12, my favorite mode, “My Player,” was the polar opposite of the usual GM role taken in OOTP but I still managed to go for the best NBA moneyline picks. I’m not sure if I’ve ever gotten through an entire season in any sports game in my life; I rather just kick someone’s ass in Virtua Tennis. If you want to place your bet on your favorite team or player, you may visit the website of ufabet. To play various casino games for a chance to win exciting prizes, you may explore b casino.

So instead of diving into a simulated franchise month-by-month and season-by-season, I decided to pick the disappointing 2013 Toronto Blue Jays and see what would happen if I played a season with them, game-by-game. I went so far as to create a separate Twitter account for the fake season that was sure to be better than reality. Looking through those 63 tweets reminds me of how much fun I was having, despite each game being played out on the same mediocre interface each time. Admittedly, I was baseball-game-starved. I hadn’t even realized how much I missed playing baseball games. (Okay, that’s a lie: I bought a friend MLB: The Show 12 just so I could play it when I went over to his apartment.)

OOTP14 filled a void, but unsurprisingly I bumped up against a wall quickly when it came to playing a text-based baseball game every night. Instead of transitioning to a simulation-heavy season, I just stopped playing. I can’t pinpoint exactly why I just stopped — maybe because I felt like an idiot for tweeting about it for a week, maybe because I knew I had a review to write. I avoid responsibility as much as possible and I bet you have never read that in a “review” of a video game before. I felt like garbage for a while about never writing a review, but I never loaded up the game again because I wanted to avoid the “work” I would have needed to do to write a decent review. I say “work” because if it weren’t for the promised review, I may have continued messing around with the game without any sense of guilt.

Okay, that’s enough of my psychological issues. With the impending release of OOTP15 (literally tomorrow), I felt the need to remedy my breach of human decency. I knew I needed to write something about OOTP14 before a new version was released.

Despite my choice of the 2013 Blue Jays, I am a Mets fan. If you have ever read this blog before or followed my Twitter or had any interaction with me at all, you probably know this. At some point, I utilized OOTP14′s historical league option to simulate 1986 just for kicks. It ended with the Mets not even making the playoffs. Come to think of it, that may have contributed to me not touching the game again. Nonetheless, when I loaded up the game again a few days ago, I decided to tackle another year that weighs heavily on the minds of Mets fans: 2006.

The real-life 2006 Mets had their season ended on a disgusting curveball that froze Carlos Beltran. You all know this. The real-life 2006 Mets also did not have Scott Kazmir, due to a mind-boggling trade in 2004 where he was traded for Victor Zambrano, a below-average pitcher who did not help the below-average Mets that year. Or any year. Goddamn it. Anyway, I created a historical league starting in 2006 and reversed the trade. Of course, I needed to enable commissioner mode for that because what kind of moron would accept that trade? This was important, though.

I simulated the season month-by-month, watching the standings morph every half-second as the computer worked its magic. The Mets started off a little slow, but by August they had a comfortable lead. The Braves threatened a bit in September, but the Mets held on. Scott Kazmir ended up at 21-3 with a 3.40 ERA. (Shoot me.) I still tempered my expectations, since the playoffs are such a crapshoot, and the real-life 2006 Mets got good performances from John Maine and Oliver Perez (really). But this faux version of the 2006 Mets had healthy versions of Pedro Martinez and Duaner Sanchez. And Xavier Nady! A powerhouse, surely.

I utilized the awesome real-time simulation option of OOTP14 throughout the playoffs. In the earlier rounds I stuck to staring at the scoreboards as games ripped through innings in a few seconds, but later on I would drop in on the broadcasts of Mets games for no particular reason. I would only receive snapshots of every third at-bat or so, but it was enough to create some semblance of narrative. The faux 2006 Mets made it through the NLDS easily, but then fell behind 1-3 in the NLCS versus the Dodgers. Nomar Garciaparra of all people was having a series. But in the final three games, Tom Glavine, Pedro Martinez, and Scott Kazmir pitched the Mets into the World Series. Carlos Beltran had the best series on the hitting side. It was beautiful.

When it came to the World Series, the Tigers laid down just like they had in real life against the 83-79 Cardinals. The faux 2006 New York Mets, with Scott Kazmir, won the World Series. Carlos Beltran had a 1.485 OPS. It would be glorious if it weren’t so pathetic.

To touch on a OOTP14 feature, I wish I had selected “career play” when I created that historical league. I would have continued with that Mets dynasty, just like it was supposed to be. For whatever reason, I didn’t bother. If you ever decide to go ahead with a historical league, you should just check off that option. It can’t hurt.

All of this is to say that OOTP14 (or any version of OOTP) is absolutely fantastic for any baseball fan. I wish I had more examples to relay to you and more tidbits about options and features to list, but I’m not sure any of them would help drive home any more the fact that this game is amazing. If you want to learn more, read more about OOTP14 and experience its greatness for yourself! You can do pretty much anything you want to do within the framework of OOTP14. There are historical leagues and fictional leagues and major leagues, the last encompassing Japanese and Cuban and other current options. You can adjust sliders to create leagues where all of the players are coming from Asian or South American countries. You can create a league with 2 teams or 120 teams. You can fill an entire league with fictional players or a mix of real players from every era of baseball. There are even little facts and quotes constantly popping up in every load screen.

I’d feel uncomfortable praising anything more about this game. I didn’t see players develop according to their PECOTA-based system. I didn’t attempt all that many trades. I didn’t experiment with fictional leagues at all. There are so many options and opportunities within the game that I’ve never tried out.

Instead, all I can offer is this screenshot of the in-game interface (you have to import logos and stadium pictures, which I should really do, because ugh Philly):

Not great. But apparently OOTP15 will improve upon this with support for 3D stadium and 3D ball flight. I do think there’s some assumptions about community support being thrown around when it comes to current and past stadiums, but they’re probably not wrong. If you’re into that kind of thing, you’d probably be best served to buy OOTP15 or MLB: The Show 15. Personally, I obviously think the interface could be better, but I still ended up getting excited about a text account of the proceedings, occasionally augmented by a little Gameday-like ball flying into the outfield.

OOTP14 is $19.99 now on their site and also on Steam. OOTP15 is $39.99 on PC/Mac and soon enough on Steam, according to the site. OOTP15 releases today. If you’re interested at all, you’re probably drawn toward the most recent version, which is understandable. Apparently there’s going to be a new ratings system, a revamped interface made for 16:9 (I don’t know how it took so long), and the usual incremental improvements across the board. There’s also the iOOTP14 option, which seems perfect for a lot of baseball fans (based on the testimony of others).

From my experience with OOTP14, between its day-to-day simulation to its yearly historical simulation to its endless amount of options, it’s the best way to spend your time fantasizing about baseball scenarios. MLB: The Show is there for the people who want the pitch-to-pitch experience — which includes me for the most part — while OOTP is there for those who want to create a winner from the front office down. You’re not going to be able to act out that Scott Kazmir scenario in The Show.

No matter which team you’re a fan of, I’m sure you’ll come up with a trade or signing that you’ll like to reverse or create; OOTP is your chance to experience that sandbox. It’s up to you whether you want to spend the money on the newest version or not. Or whether you rather place yourself in the game in something like The Show. I won’t fault you if you choose the latter, since that’s what I’d probably choose, if I had a PS3 or PS4. But I’ll make do with simulating the strike-shortened 1994 season, Mike Trout’s career, and the Mets 2015 rotation.

Note: I submitted this as a Fanpost over at Amazin’ Avenue weeks ago, but I figured I might as well post it here, too.

We’ve all had a little while to process and grieve the loss of Folk Hero Robert Allen Dickey. The trade rumors dragged out for a few days and then once the actual deal was done we still needed to wait for Dickey to sign an extremely accommodating contract extension with the Blue Jays. If the Mets were in a position to win now (not three years from now), and if the Wilpons weren’t broke criminals, maybe he’d still be here. Unfortunately for the hearts of many Mets fans, Sandy Alderson felt the need to sell high, treating the most beloved Met as a valuable commodity. Considering the circumstances and the haul coming back in return, it was probably the right move. And one that has bothered me on an emotional level much less than most Mets fans.

As popular as R.A. Dickey has been in New York, the face of the team has obviously been David Wright, despite his (relative) struggles from 2009-2011, which caused many fans to cry TRAID. Wright is the only Met left from the heartbreaking teams of 2006 and 2007, while Dickey, whose ascension to the summit of knuckleball-dom made him a big draw last September, was on the team for just three seasons, during an era of crushing despair. At times, Dickey was the lone bright star in a Mets’ universe approaching heat death (tolerable if the Wilpons were also wiped out). Yet that description of Dickey’s tenure helps explain why it’s not too hard for me to let him go.

Dickey has pitched for three irrelevant Mets teams, consisting of the flotsam lovingly referred to as #OmarsTeam. The last year the Mets competed was 2008, when the team was still legitimately good, but let down by a trash bullpen that led MLB in meltdowns. Sure, 2010 and 2012 looked decent halfway through the season, but spectacular crashes on the far side of the All-Star Break ended hopes quickly both years. 2008 was also the last year the Mets brought in a great player: Johan Santana.* I remember driving home from a night class and turning on WFAN, only to hear the words “trade”, “Mets”, and “Johan Santana”. I yelled and slammed the steering wheel over and over, envisioning a playoff run with the best pitcher in baseball acting as the Mets’ savior after the Collapse of ’07. As already pointed out, it didn’t turn out that way.

*Even before he turned into a mannequin, I would argue Jason Bay was merely “good”. There’s a reason he came at half the cost of Matt Holliday.

Santana, though, was as amazing as advertised, doing everything short of getting the clutch hits the team desperately needed at the end of the season. From July 22nd on, he averaged 7 1/2 innings a start at a 1.82 ERA clip. He pitched a complete-game shutout on three days’ rest on the penultimate day of the season, a game I was lucky enough to attend. It’s tough to beat experiencing an all-time pitcher at the height of his power in a playoff atmosphere. I was there the last time Shea Stadium rocked.

That game was enough for me to go and buy my first authentic jersey (for 50% off, of course): a Santana home jersey with the Shea patch, the same uniform he wore that game. Santana remains, along with Wright, the last link to good Mets teams. As Wright had his best season in years, everyone described him as “the old Wright,” the player who, in 2008, Bill James chose as the one he would want to build a team around. As devastating as those 2006, 2007, and 2008 seasons were, I have to imagine any Mets fan preferred them to the drudgery of the last handful. Baseball games in September with playoff implications (not to mention actual playoff games) are cooler than games where a pitcher is going for his 20th win.

No-hitters are also cooler than one-hitters, even if each are usually the result of bounces one way or the other — or blown foul ball calls. As Dickey was entering his Pedro-level run, right after he had thrown two straight 10+ K games, Santana had to go and throw the first no-hitter in Mets history, after lifelong fans had sat through 8,019 games without one, cringing at the tally every time the opposing team got their first hit of the game. No longer would the Mets be clumped in with the Padres, a team that never had a Tom Seaver or Dwight Gooden.

And once again, somehow, maybe due to wearing his jersey, I was there to experience a legendary Johan Santana performance. My dad called me in the 8th inning to double-check that I was at Citi, since I had told him a few days before that I might be going. My dad was watching the game with his dad, who was in a rest home recovering from hip-replacement surgery. Three generations of fans awaiting history. Up to that last out, I didn’t think it would happen. When Santana went 3-0 on David Freese with his 131st pitch of the game, I thought for sure it was over. Either he would walk Freese and his pitch count would continue to pile up, or he’d lay a meatball over the plate. Instead he threw an 86-mph fastball on the inside corner, followed up with a changeup fouled back, and then another changeup at the ankles, vintage Johan, to strike Freese out. I was hugging my friends, high-fiving strangers, and yelling on the phone while I talked to my dad, both of us in disbelief. Going out in Astoria afterward, I had people “congratulating” me at the beer garden, and fellow drunks yelling at me from across the street at 4 AM, all due to wearing that Santana jersey. There was really nothing Dickey could ever do to top that experience.

I don’t mean to denigrate Dickey’s incredible season, but emotions are inevitably stronger when the stakes are higher, even if they are just the result of randomness over a 50-year stretch. We’re lucky to have seen such a collection of games from a man who throws a baseball differently than anyone in the history of the world. We’re even luckier that it was easy to turn him into a folk hero: a man who toiled for years, but managed to unlock the secrets to an ancient pitch, all while missing a ligament in his elbow; a man with a glorious beard and a locker filled with books that would get a high school baseball player beat up; a man who climbed a mountain to raise awareness for human trafficking and has bunnies named after Star Wars characters.

I would just argue that Dickey’s great run with the Mets occurred in a relatively meaningless vacuum. He appeared in 2010 and has only improved since then, giving us those back-to-back one-hitters which are probably the most dominant consecutive starts in baseball history (Johnny Vander Meer walked 8 hitters in his second no-hitter!). He was even willing to play for this rebuilding franchise at Ryan Dempster-money, but he was instead used to help bolster that very future Sandy Alderson is building toward. That is the future of Zack Wheeler, Travis d’Arnaud, Noah Syndergaard, and the already-arrived Matt Harvey.

Only 23 years old, Matt Harvey exploded onto the Mets landscape this season, throwing 99-mph fastballs and 88-mph sliders to the tune of a 2.73 ERA — the same number as Dickey, arrived at with an arsenal on the opposite end of the pitching spectrum. While most of the Mets world embraced Dickeymania, I was more interested in watching Harvey. I even got together with some fellow Mets fans for his first start against the D-Backs, braving a derecho to drink beers while watching Harvey exceed all expectations. The future was finally here, and it looked brighter than the present, especially if Zack Wheeler was supposed to be better than this pitcher who had just blown away major league hitters.

Maybe I’m being too optimistic about the future (I think my optimism is limited to baseball). I remember back in 2010 looking forward to 2012 and the Oliver Perez and Luis Castillo contracts coming off the books. I also believed that, after the crushing end of 2006, a new Mets’ dynasty was beginning, a sentiment shared by many others.

But this regime appears to have a well-thought-out plan, one where there’s literally no player on the books for 2014 other than Wright and Jon Niese. You can take issue with the amount of money spent on middling relievers or the Angel Pagan trade or the complete lack of legit starting outfielders, but I think all that has been shuffling around ultimately insignificant pieces on a bunch of teams without a realistic shot at contending in a strong NL East. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to look at 2014 and 2015 as the light at the end of the Wilpon-Madoff Tunnel. Matt Harvey represented the first beam of light trickling in, and that’s why he was my cause for excitement in the second half of the year, even more than Dickey.

Dickey could have been part of the future, too, of course. Instead, he’s left to help the Blue Jays’ present, with two catchers in tow, to team up with Jose Reyes again. And I’m happy for him. Through the magic of MLB.TV, we can still watch R.A. Dickey. He might even get to pitch in some big-time September games, or, if current Vegas lines are to be believed, October games. The entire nation (two nations, actually) would get the chance to embrace Dickey the way New York has.

Meanwhile, I’ll be content with waiting for the future, watching Jon Niese and Matt Harvey, hoping Zack Wheeler and Travis d’Arnaud come up and contribute, and praying the infield continues to form a solid base. Johan pulling a Beltran and bringing back a prospect mid-season would be a bonus. Such a move would signal the end of the transition to the Alderson Era. It would finalize the process begun by cutting Ollie and Castillo — the same process that chose Wright as the cornerstone player to retain, since position players of his caliber and age now hit free agency with scant frequency. It would only be fitting if the Dickey trade became the best move of these lean years. He’d be the folk hero who disappeared just as we got to know him, leaving the world behind him with a path toward a better future.

Inspired by @firejerrymanuel: only teams not to make playoffs since 2006: Jays, Royals, #6org, Mets, Marlins, Pirates, Astros. #teamsuicide

— Joelsph (@CajoleJuiceEsq) October 3, 2012

Turns out I forgot the Padres in that tweet, but it’s not like that helps. That’s a depressing list.

Toronto Blue Jays – This is easily the best team out of the list, with the unfortunate status of playing in the AL East. I still can’t see the Orioles repeating what they did this year, but the Red Sox aren’t going to be a doormat for long. The only hope for this team is waiting for the Rays to run out of their top draft picks. But maybe they’ll move by then and make more money and sorry Jays fans. Douse yourself with inflammable maple syrup and light yourself on fire.

Kansas City Royals – The team of the future had two of its two big hitting prospects, Eric Hosmer and Mike Moustakas, have way below-average hitting seasons. They are still waiting for their pitching. It probably will not live up to the hype. Just end it all now.

Seattle Mariners a.k.a. #6org – I made the mistake of actually thinking they were a decent lock to finish 3rd in the AL West. Turns out Billy Beane is still ten times better than Jack “Savior” Z. “I am a false prophet; UZR is a superstition.” I guess fans can wait until King Felix gets hurt to finally drink bleach.

New York Mets – A team headed by broke owners who have no desire to sell the team. Sure, some might say they’ll be able to spend after 2013 due to the contracts of Jason Bay and Johan Santana ending, but almost every time someone writes about the Mets finances it’s bad news, despite a Madoff victims settlement I thought boded well for the Wilpons. Maybe they’ll just let the contracts come off the books and spend the money on shitty bullpen help again. Much like with #6org and King Felix, I’ll wait until David Wright is gone before putting a gun in my mouth.

Florida Marlins – No one fucking cares. Edit: Notice I said Florida Marlins. God, they suck.

Pittsburgh Pirates – This franchise’s streak of 20 straight losing seasons is the new 56-game hitting streak. It’s more impressive than whatever record Drew Brees just broke last night. Teams just fall into winning seasons every once in a while, like the Marlins, or the Orioles this year — even the Royals have had them in 10-year intervals the past 20 years (they are due for one in 2013!). This is an organization that signed a couple of Indian dudes because I don’t know, Slumdog Millionaire. But hey, your city identity is wrapped up in much more successful teams, so maybe just bang your head against a wall repeatedly until you are Sidney Crosby.

Houston Astros – A team totally and completely screwed by having to move to the AL. I hope to one day — like one of their recent hires who live-tweeted an eviction like a douchebag — to live-tweet them getting relegated to AAA. I just subblogged. Go swim in the ocean during a hurricane.

San Diego Padres – I like how this team ended up with neither Adrian Gonzalez nor Anthony Rizzo. Yet much like the Marlins, I can’t imagine anyone gives a shit. Your perfect weather has made you sports-dead inside.

HONORABLE MENTIONS (COLLAPSES EDITION):

Texas Rangers -5 games up with 9 to go. And then you get swept by the A’s to finish the season, losing the division and being relegated to a one-game playoff against the Orioles, facing Joe Saunders, and you lose that game too. Time to die of a drug overdose. With 9 games to go, even the 2007 Mets were only 1.5 games up on the Phillies, the 2011 Red Sox were only 2 games up on the Rays, and that brings us to…

Atlanta Braves – With 9 games to go, the 2011 Braves were 3.5 games up on the Cardinals. If the current two wild-card format were in place last year, the Braves would have still had a one-game playoff against them. Unfortunately that was not the case, and then this year they finished 6 games in front for the first wild-card, but managed to be victimized by St. Louis again, with the help of umpires. Impale yourself on a tomahawk?

bad nite for babip, fip, etc. congratulations to matt cain, a great pitcher. #SFGiants

— Jon Heyman (@JonHeyman) June 14, 2012

I know I’m feeding the troll here, but it reminded me and another person on Twitter of the “bad night for atheists” line during Josh Hamilton’s amazing HR derby display at Yankee Stadium a few years ago. But at least Heyman’s tweet has a bit of truth to it. Up through the 2010 MLB season, most sabermetric-loving fans didn’t believe in Matt Cain’s success. Even I criticized my own pick of Cain in a Roto Hardball mock draft before the 2011 season, citing his “unsustainable” home run to fly ball ratio (HR/FB%). Well, over the past two years, Cain’s HR/FB% has remained in line with his career numbers and this year he’s made the leap to total dominance when you consider his improved strikeout and walk rates. The Giants choosing to give him a big contract extension — while postponing a decision on Tim Lincecum — is looking better every day.

Yet Heyman is unsurprisingly off when it comes to referencing the right stats to put down. While Cain’s career batting average of balls in play (BABIP) is pretty low, that’s not unusual for a fly ball pitcher. What’s extraordinary is the low HR/FB%, which is reflected in his constantly higher expected fielding independent pitching (xFIP) numbers. xFIP regresses HR/FB% to league average, utilizing strikeouts, walks, and fly ball rate; but at this point it looks like Cain has no inclination to adhere to that rule. He just keeps getting better while Lincecum keeps getting worse.

Those last two paragraphs cover one interpretation of the headline, the one often joked about by @waxinthaksin on NeoGAF and Twitter to describe saber fans. This is the interpretation Jon Heyman would subscribe to. We — True SABRs like myself — have no faith, we only believe in the numbers. Only a couple of years ago, the numbers told us that Matt Cain was only good, but he’s turned out to be great. Where are your numbers now? Where are your numbers now? For those who trust stats over gut feelings, Luxury111 provides a data-driven edge in sports betting. Similarly, platforms like MyBookie Sportsbook appeal to analytical bettors who value insight and strategy over chance.

The other way to take the headline is to think it’s talking about people who aren’t into baseball. People that don’t believe in its awesomeness. There were almost two perfect games tonight. Both R.A. Dickey and Matt Cain are former first-round draft picks, but they couldn’t have taken more divergent paths to their pitching gems tonight. Dickey made it to the majors with a traditional pitch arsenal 11 years ago, but he never succeeded until he perfected his knuckleball with the Mets as a 35-year-old. Cain stormed to the majors at 20 years old and has been a 200-inning workhorse ever since. Dickey looks like the mountain climber he was this offseason, and shouldn’t even be able to pitch, as he has no UCL in his right elbow. Cain, meanwhile, is a solidly-built 6’3″ and has never given anyone a reason to doubt his ability. The only thing that stopped these two completely different pitchers from forever being intertwined in baseball history were a couple of David Wright miscues.

That’s the great thing about baseball. You watch as many games as you can because you know at any time you might see something that’s either never been done before or has only happened a handful of times. Matt Cain’s performance tonight is one of the best in baseball history; he struck out 14 batters in a perfect game. The only other pitcher to accomplish such a feat is some guy named Sandy Koufax. R.A. Dickey dominated a game like no other knuckleballer has ever done. 12 strikeouts, 0 walks, and 1 hit that shouldn’t have been ruled a error. And we already had a perfect game and two no-hitters this year. And a 4-HR game. I’ll throw the coming-out parties of Bryce Harper and Mike Trout in this paragraph, too. Baseball is amazing. For fans who enjoy exploring engaging sports content online, reviewitonline.net is a great resource worth checking out.

I recently read a book called Subliminal: How Your Unconscious Mind Rules Your Behavior that mentioned how the people who are actually best at self-evaluation are usually depressed. Most human beings are optimists because otherwise our species never would have gotten this far. It reminded me of the overthinking, doubting mindset of prospect Billy Beane in the book Moneyball, which left him at a disadvantage when compared to the headstrong Lenny Dykstra. I’ve always been Beane when it comes to writing (or women) and it becomes difficult after a while to write knowing you’re not really bringing anything original or exceptional to the table. How much writing is out there on the internet? There are countless movie blogs manned by teenagers, manchild 20-somethings, and hipster 20-somethings. There is an almost depressing amount of smart baseball writing — both sabermetric-focused and not, but all adhering to that movement’s basic truths. There are half a dozen reviews of every goddamn television show that miserable people watch. Even animated .GIFs are everywhere now, although sadly mostly in shitty Tumblr form. What is a regular dude supposed to blog about?

I had a conversation with NeoGAF and Twitter buddy @m_scoular a few months ago and it’s as if he had the opposite effect on me as he hoped. He said how pouring himself into movies and classic books and writing about them (mostly privately) had helped him make some sense of, or at least come to peace with, his current lot in life. And he said he enjoyed reading my thoughts on movies, and suggested writing constantly — if not on this blog — in a personal journal. But this conversation came at a time just as baseball was starting up, and I fell into the usual mode of being obsessed with grown men playing a game.

I’ve questioned my commitment to watching the Mets — and baseball in general — many times. I’ve mentioned on this blog (by linking to a Flip Flop Fly Ball infographic) how much time is sunk into following an 162-game season. I’ve thought many times that I enjoy talking about baseball more than watching it. What am I getting out of being such an intense baseball fan?

Then something like being in attendance for the first Mets no-hitter happens. There are movies that can really get to you, making you either cheer or cry, but this was real. This was watching something almost miraculous. Down to the very last batter I had lingering doubts. Tom Seaver had three chances in the 9th inning to close out no-hitters for the Mets and never did it. Johan Santana was less than two years removed from shoulder surgery that has ended lesser careers and had a pitch count greater than any game he had thrown before said surgery. With two outs, with his 131st pitch, he went 3-0 on David Freese. I thought it was over. Either Johan would walk Freese, requiring a bunch more pitches, which would add to the already ridiculous burden on his recovering shoulder, or he’d lay a very hittable pitch over the middle of the plate. Johan chose option C by striking out Freese with a devastating changeup.

After witnessing Johan’s short-rest shutout in the penultimate game of the 2008 season, I didn’t think anything less than attending a Game Seven playoff win or World Series clinching-game would top that baseball experience. But I wasn’t hugging my friends after that game. Or high-fiving dozens of strangers all around me. Or calling my dad after he watched it along with his dad. This was baseball — as cliche as it sounds — as religious experience.

Feeling that way about baseball brings me back to the conversation I had with @m_scoular. He was curious about my thoughts on This Is Not A Film, an Iranian documentary about a filmmaker under house arrest awaiting the results of an appeal for a jail sentence and a 20-year ban on directing. I fell asleep during it. Meanwhile, he detailed how and why it affected him unlike any other movie and how he wished I could have felt like he did. And I wish I appreciated the passion and humor on display, and maybe I would have a bit more if I didn’t fall asleep or watch it in a very dead theater, but I’m still a budding movie buff and even then that feeling doesn’t compare to my passion for baseball or even sports in general.

Perhaps it’s not a perfect analogy, because even a casual baseball fan can appreciate a no-hitter, but someone who watches countless Mets games is going to understand the significance behind it on another level. After the no-hitter, as my two friends and I sat in an Astoria beer garden, I rattled off the great Mets pitchers who had gone on to throw no-hitters for other teams: Tom Seaver, Nolan Ryan, Dwight Gooden, David Cone (Philip Humber’s perfect game was just a cruel joke). And then there are the good pitchers who could have easily thrown one if everything lined up right. Finally, the Mets were the recipient of a great pitcher with enough left in the tank to do what hadn’t been done in 51 seasons of Mets baseball. It was enough to make a man get so drunk that he gets unidentified stains on his Santana jersey while black out drunk.

It’s that feeling that spurs me to write something. It’s watching a Game Seven between the Heat and Celtics. It’s watching a Nadal-Djovokic French Open final. But even more, it’s watching El Clasico in a packed NYC bar among people who obviously care about soccer a lot more than I do. And I do occasionally get that feeling when watching a great movie, but there’s nothing like the communal experience of watching sports history. Something like that is enough to get a person to blog again.

Remember last week? That was pretty cool, huh? I haven’t even been paying all that much attention to the playoffs due to a combination of busyness and the knowledge that nothing will top last Wednesday night. The simultaneous collapses of the Red Sox and Braves, along with the all-but-impossible comeback by the Rays, have been discussed endlessly already, and I feel like most people (other than Red Sox and Braves fans) have moved on. So while the framework of this post will be the events of the end of the regular season, it’s really just about how freaking awesome baseball fans are. I guess “people with the same interests as me are the coolest” could also work.

Baseball lends itself to absolute obsession. Something like football — or even soccer over in Europe, from what I know about the schedule — is more compatible with, you know, having a life. Football allows you to set one day of the week away (and ok, Monday night, too) to turn into a worthless slob on the couch and watch either your local games or the Red Zone channel if you an ADD-addled fantasy player. Baseball is there almost every night you come home from work and on the weekends, too. This constant availability aligns perfectly with platforms like สนุกกับการเดิมพันกีฬาที่ยูฟ่าเบท, enticing fans to elevate their engagement through sports betting, adding an extra layer of excitement to each game.

Please direct your eyes to the chart on the right. Look at that time commitment. So try to imagine what it’s like if a person is a baseball fan in the sense of attempting to follow all 30 teams — usually for fantasy knowledge purposes. I know that I became a better and more intelligent fan once I delved into fantasy baseball head-first a few years back. The result is being able to talk to any other baseball fan for practically an infinite amount of time. Not that I wasn’t able to do that already, but now I can do it with fans of any team almost as well as with Mets fans. I would joke about the Astros possibly being an exception, but past Tuesday night is evidence against this.

After a Sunday where I had a great time hanging out with fellow Mets fans during a Fangraphs (and River Avenue Blues and Amazin’ Avenue) meetup that turned into a middle school dance where girls and boys were replaced with Yankees and Mets fans, my hunger for real life baseball discussion had been whetted. While our Mets fan contingent did talk a bit about the depressing topic of our chosen team, there was also plenty of discussion about the on-going football games and good television shows. If I truly wanted to immerse myself in baseball, I would have to watch teams that still actually mattered, so Tuesday night on my home after a late class, I decided I should go to Foley’s NY to check out the four games that would help decide whether the Red Sox and Braves would provide schadenfreude for the rest of the country.

I had already been there before and knew that it is baseball fan heaven, with every television showing a baseball game, signed balls lining the walls, and a Don Zimmer fathead in the bathroom watching you piss into the urinals. I sat down at the bar and saw that the four televisions situated along its length were showing the four relevant games. There was probably no place on earth I would have rather been. Oh, I’m sure the MLB FanCave had all the games on, but fuck that place.

The night didn’t get really good until an older Astros fan sat down next to me and started berating the Cardinals fans sitting a few stools down on the other side of me. I just laughed and told him that I was with those “pussy Cardinals fans” for tonight, considering I wanted the Braves to miss the playoffs. From then on, we talked about 1986 (even though I was born during that season), Roger Clemens being an asshole, Nolan Ryan being a steroid user, Carlos Beltran being a clutch player, “Harvard turds” ruining baseball with stats, and how much the Cardinals suck. All right, it was mostly him talking, but it was immensely entertaining. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to turn away at some point to talk more to the attractive girl with an Irish accent who had sat down next to me, but the Texan would not stop talking. He had now moved on to other things, like his brother who had written for SNL and had made some YouTube videos. By the time the siege on my attention had been lifted, it was too late to stick around any longer, unless I wanted to get home on the LIRR as the sun was coming up. I wasn’t upset though, as I was able to have a conversation with a fan of the terrible organization that is the Astros for the sole reason that we shared love for baseball. Sure, his opinions might have been all over the place, but sometimes you have to hear from people outside of the saber-twitter-blogsphere, right?

Sometime during the night, I overheard a girl ask about a Cardinals fan meetup at Foley’s. It explained the Cardinals fans strewn around the bar, and also made me think of God Save The Fan, which I had recently read (and I’ve been meaning to write a review of along with the book I bought it with on Amazon, The Postmortal). In it, Will Leitch talks about finding a bar in Manhattan to watch the 2006 NLCS with other Cardinals fans (this is where I stopped reading the book). I told myself I’d ask him on Twitter whether he was talking about Foley’s. But not before I was at Foley’s again the very next night to watch the same eight teams play four games on the last night of the regular season.

The bar was a bit more packed on Wednesday night, though. When I managed to find a seat at the bar after a little while, it was pretty much in the same spot as before. This time, I was situated next to a Cards fan. This might have had to do with pretty much everyone at the bar being a Cards fan. There were a few Red Sox fans, too. If you magically appeared in the bar, I’m pretty sure you couldn’t have guessed it was in NYC. This Cards fan was surprised that I was rooting for his team, considering 2006; I told him that the Braves were like a sadistic bully that beat on Mets fans for most of their childhood. Comparatively, I still remember thinking the 2006 NLCS would just be a bump in the road. Sigh.

We sat there talking about the state of the Mets, how much money Albert Pujols will get this offseason (and from which team), the young pitching staff of the Rays, the embarrassment that is Carl Crawford, among other things. Meanwhile, the Rays had spotted a huge lead to the Yankees, the Cards had crushed the Astros in the first inning, and the Phillies-Braves and Red Sox-Orioles matchups were tight games. I downed beer and beer, sharing a bucket of bottles with the Cards fan, while watching the drama unfold with hardcore baseball fans all around me. To be a Cards fan out to watch the game in a NYC midtown bar on a weeknight means you are most likely dedicated. And at one point, I turned around to see the very guy who I wanted to ask about his Cards fan NYC bar story.

As Leitch seemed involved with a conversation with a lady, I struck up a conversation with his buddy (who looked vaguely familiar and whose name I cannot remember now). But once I mentioned that I wanted to ask Leitch something, he introduced me as awkwardly as possible to embarrass me. I probably deserved it. The minute I mentioned God Save The Fan, Leitch apologized for it being out-of-date already. Even when I said the only reasons I bought his book were its bargain price and Amazon recommending it when I bought The Postmortal, Leitch was suitably self-deprecating. I guess that should probably be expected from a guy whose first book was titled Life as a Loser. Leitch was also surprised to hear I was rooting for the Cards, but I told him how I want Braves fans to feel my pain. I bet some Braves fans think they’ll be back in the playoffs next year and for years to come (like I felt about the Mets in 2006), but maybe Jason Heyward won’t become a Hall of Famer and maybe Tommy Hanson will have injury issues. Or maybe the Mets will become the best te. . . nevermind.

But once again, I was able to effortlessly strike up a baseball conversation with another person, albeit a much shorter one, before I returned to my seat and my original Cards fan companion for the night. Leitch really did seem like a nice guy (he even offered me a beer!), which makes sense considering the transformation Deadspin has made since he gave up his editing duties. Despite Buzz Bissinger ripping him on Costas Live years ago for lack of integrity, the site has only gotten progressively more grimy under A.J. Daulerio. But I know Leitch and other people support him, so whatever, I won’t make this about how Deadspin was better with Leitch was editor. I mean, it was, but let’s get back on topic. Is there a topic here?

Oh yeah, despite Evan Longoria going into beast mode, the Rays were still trailing the Yankees; the Phillies-Braves game had gone into extras; and the Red Sox were looking like they were going to win their game against the Orioles. Then the timeline of madness that I can’t remember nor be bothered to look up broke out, starting with the Phillies beating the Braves to knock the latter out of the playoffs, making the Cardinals fans go crazy. Then a little while later, Dan Johnson hit a 9th-inning, game-tying home run with two outs and two strikes. Then a beer later, the Red Sox choked away a 9th-inning lead for the first time all year. Then only a few sips later, Longoria hit another home run to send the Rays to the playoffs and Red Sox home. It was a blurry night of cheers and high-fives by then, as I guess everyone not from Boston was happy to see Red Sox fans suffer again. It’s like order was restored in the baseball universe, and I was in the NYC nexus of it.

As I watched Ryan Braun hit a 700-foot home run tonight to put the Brewers ahead in the 8th inning of a 1-1 potentially division-clinching game, I couldn’t help thinking of how he had cemented his claim to the MVP award and how he is the type of player the Mets no longer have. Fred Wilpon was right when he said David Wright is “a nice player, not a superstar.” And that depresses the living shit out of me.

This is not a “TRAID DAVID WRONGZ” post, but an honest take on what is a baffling decline that started at the age of 26. Besides, there’s no way the Mets could get enough value in a Wright trade, considering the one-year option they hold on him only applies to their team. Wright is not going anywhere, even if Jose Reyes might be a different story. You could argue that Reyes took the superstar title from Wright this season, but the total derailing of his season in the second half has only created more questions with regards to his durability. Much like Wright last year, he had a MVP first half only to put up middling numbers thereafter. If Reyes manages to still win the batting title, it will be the definition of an empty victory.

I think I mention the following any time I talk about Wright’s fall from the top of baseball, but the great Bill James himself named Wright the player he would choose to build a team around before the 2008 season (but he named Albert Pujols the best player). It’s like this 60 Minutes interview was the kiss of death for both Wright and the Mets. Since then, Mets fans have just become more frustrated and perplexed with the purported face of their franchise. Sure, Wright had one more great season in 2008, but he’s remembered for not coming through in a couple of big spots late in the season by all too many people. Since then, it has become nigh impossible for me to defend him against my father, poker buddies, or that random dude in the bar.

The issue now is not just his clutchness, but his overall level of performance. He’s gone from a hitter you could pencil in for .300/30/100 every year to one whose performance fluctuates immensely from year to year and week to week. One season his power disappears, another he regains his power stroke but consequently strikes out at an alarming rate, and now this year his batting line is the worst it has ever been — despite looking like he had finally gotten it back together after his stint on the DL. Throw in his fielding woes and you have a player that is a shell of his former self and objectively inferior to his contemporaries, Evan Longoria and Ryan Zimmerman (although the latter has struggled with his own throwing yips). There’s also Pablo Sandoval and the already scary-good Brett Lawrie in the young third basemen discussion.

Does all this mean the Mets can’t make the playoffs or (gasp) win a World Series with Wright manning the hot corner? Of course not. But it does mean that expectations might need to be tempered and that the Mets front office needs to embrace the reality of needing to build an actual team, not the real-life equivalent of the fantasy baseball stars-and-scrubs approach. And I’m sure Sandy Alderson and his self-assembled dream team realize this — it’s just going to take a little while to undo the damage wrought by Omar Minaya. By that time, the Mets will need to make a decision on Wright, just like they will have to do with Reyes this offseason.

No one can predict how the next year or two will play out. Perhaps the rumored changes to Citi Field will help Wright get back to his 2006-08 level of play and the Mets will pick up his option while giving him a contract extension (especially if they don’t sign Reyes). Or he can sink further into his personal defensive hell at third base and combine that with slightly above-average performance at the plate so that he’s barely worth the $16 million club option for 2013.

I just know it’s not fun watching teams intentionally walk Angel fucking Pagan to load the bases for David Wright, and then expecting the strikeout that inevitably comes. It’s crushing for any Met fan to bear witness to a player seemingly destined for the Hall of Fame turn into a hitter totally disregarded as a threat at the age of 28. It’s something that would never happen to Evan Longoria or Ryan Braun, and that absolutely destroys me inside. Wright was to be the cornerstone player who, in tandem with Jose Reyes, would lead a Mets dynasty for a decade or more. Now there’s a very real possibility that — without ever reaching a World Series — the latter will be gone, while the Mets are left with half of the former. It’s enough to make a man want to watch football.

“And there goes the no-hitter” are the words that have haunted every Mets fans for years. The New York Metropolitans have played 7,821 regular season games and their opponent has had at least one hit in every game. Tom Seaver, arguably the greatest pitcher of the Post-War Era, started 395 games for the Mets, finishing 171 — five of them were one-hitters, but none were no-hitters. Naturally, he threw his one and only no-hitter for the White Sox Reds (I swear I keep making these dumb mistakes in Fanposts) in 1978, the year after he was traded away. Teammates Jerry Koosman and Jon Matlack (who had a wonderful chapter dedicated to him in the 2011 Amazin Avenue Annual) weren’t too shabby, either. Dwight Gooden and David Cone were two great young pitchers for the Mets in the 1980s, but they only threw no-hitters when they later went to the Yankees. Nolan Ryan threw seven no-hitters after being traded as a young, wild flamethrower. Al Leiter switched it up by throwing his sole no-hitter before joining the Mets in 1998.

Ok, I think that’s enough of a depressing history lesson for the day. We’d all be better served looking forward and trying to guess which current Mets pitchers have the best shot at rendering batters completely helpless. The current major league roster may not have any starting pitchers that hit the upper 90s on the radar gun, but no-hitters can sometimes come from unexpected places, and the farm is home to a few promising young arms.

Let’s set these unscientific lines. I have to give a tweet by @SurfingtheMets credit for the idea.

D.J. Carrasco 1,000,000-1

This dude is only here because he started one game for the Mets already. I give him the same odds as Lloyd Christmas marrying Mary Swanson, so I’m saying he has a chance. I also have a chance of stealing Minka Kelly from Derek Jeter.

Pat Misch 200-1

He’s had some success in the minors, but so far he’s given up 10 hits per 9 in his 195.2 ML innings. This is not going to happen.

Dillon Gee 150-1

He’s enamored himself to the fanbase somewhat with his number of good starts the past two years. Unfortunately, the number is only seven. He struck out AAA hitters at a solid rate last season, but his stuff isn’t particularly exciting. Sure, seemingly unlikely pitchers throw no-hitters, but it doesn’t happen all that often to guys with middling velocity. Not that I’ve done any research to back this up outside of quickly browsing the list of no-hitters at Wikipedia.

Jeurys Familia 120-1

He’s only 21 and lights up the gun at 96-97 mph. Last year in 121 IP at St. Lucie (High-A) he struck out 10 opposing batters per 9 for a FIP of 3.89, even if his ERA was a disappointing 5.58. He might not even stay as a starter, but he has an electric arm that I can see throwing a 5 BB no-hitter.

Chris Young 100-1

His flyball tendencies help him in the no-hitter department, but he might not even be healthy enough to throw a complete game all year. These odds are Mets career odds, but I don’t see Young staying with the Mets past this year. (Edit: I would shorten these odds if I were doing this again today.)

Chris Capuano 80-1

Another pitcher who might not be with the Mets past 2011, but one that I like more than Young. He has a much higher groundball rate, which doesn’t help in this exercise considering the notorious seeing-eye single, but he also isn’t a 6’10″ pitcher who can’t touch 90 mph. Sorry, I just really hate watching Chris Young pitch.

Mike Pelfrey 50-1

A groundball pitcher who really does not strike out many batters at all. This is not a recipe for a no-hitter. Maybe I should give him better odds since he’ll likely be with the Mets for at least a few more years, but I can’t go any lower. Of course, he could get lucky, like those couple of stretches where he’s looked like maybe he could be a top-of-the-rotation starter. Ha, yeah.

Matt Harvey 50-1

The 22-year-old Is off to a ridiculously hot start in St. Lucie, but apparently Mike Pelfrey had a similar start. But Harvey has a legitimate breaking pitch and still has a good chance of developing into a dominant starter — something I can’t see happening with Pelfrey. Maybe it’s kinda dumb to give him similar odds to Pelfrey since he’s still only in High-A ball, but I can’t help myself.

Jenrry Mejia 45-1

Oh hey, I just went ahead and gave another prospect better odds than Pelfrey. Mejia is 21 years old and hasn’t thrown more than 100 IP in any full season, but he’s still the Mets #1 prospect and has absolutely filthy stuff. A man can dream of him becoming an ace by 2013 and throwing a no-hitter, right? (Edit: I would lengthen these odds considerably now since he has a complete MCL tear of his elbow WAIT WHAT GODDAMN IT ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?!?)

Jon Niese 25-1

These are pretty good odds because he’s under Mets control for another three more years after this one and I like him to achieve the feat more than Pelfrey. He actually has a higher groundball rate than the sinkerballer, but he also strikes out more batters. And I’ll go to the opportunity-for-growth well yet again.

Johan Santana 10-1

This might be way too optimistic, considering we have no idea how Johan will pitch coming off shoulder surgery, but I want to believe a pitcher only 85% of the original still has a great chance of throwing an absolute gem. Plus, he’s a boss.

R.A. Dickey 1-1

No explanation needed.

What then followed were Obama’s official announcement/speech and crowds gathering across the country to wave flags and banners and cheer the death of their enemy — our enemy. But I still felt oddly uncomfortable watching college kids cheer and jump around in front of the White House due to some aging extremist Islamic terrorist getting shot in the face. As this tweet points out, it’s practically the exact same scene that took place in parts of the Muslim world after 9/11 that disgusted millions of Americans. While I don’t agree with making a direct parallel, since this is a death of a murderer (as opposed to almost 3,000 innocent people), I wasn’t the only person who thought the raucous celebration a bit unsettling. My father, a man who has voiced misgivings about Islam in general, even commented that he felt weird watching the footage on FOX News. Yeah.

I’ve also heard “the cost” of this assassination (if that’s the correct term) being described as possible retaliation in the coming days and weeks. No, the cost was $4 trillion over $1 trillion and over 100,000 civilian deaths. Sure, we’re cheering the “end” of what we originally set out to do, but in the process we’ve sabotaged ourselves financially, helped destabilize much of the Middle East, and killed a whole bunch more innocent people than Bin Laden ever did. But I guess it was worth it to prove a point?

Maybe this isn’t the right time to talk about this shit, especially after seeing an image like this:

Because, fuck, if anyone has a right to celebrate this news, it’s the men who lost their friends at the World Trade Center. But they know — along with anyone else who lost a loved one — that this doesn’t change much. America finally finished the job we set out to do 10 years ago, but no one is coming back to life, Al-Qaeda and its off-shoots are still very functional, and Bin Laden ultimately won since he changed our way of life since 9/11/01.

But at least the Mets beat the Phillies in 14 innings, right?

Also: What I Want Out Of This Season

Turn the clock back about two and a half years. The Mets, after a mediocre start to their 2008 season, had managed to build a small lead at the top of the NL East standings. But they are seemingly in the middle of another (albeit much less epic) collapse after the disastrous ending the previous year. Mets fans, including myself, can’t imagine having to endure the same heartbreak again yet also feel a sense of inevitable doom.

I remember hearing about the decision to pitch Johan Santana on three days’ rest in the second-to-last game of the season and feeling everything was over right there. Taking the one great pitcher in the rotation and forcing him to pitch on short rest when you’re going to end up pitching Oliver Perez in the final game anyway didn’t sit right with me. Granted, Oliver Perez wasn’t the worthless pitcher he became once he signed a 3-year, $36 million contract, but he was no better than average in 2008. On top of that, down the stretch he had been strikingly awful. He had just given up five runs in his previous start and going right back to him on three days’ rest was the best course of action? I can’t honestly say I remember which pitcher would have started the penultimate game instead of Johan, but I felt any downside would be mitigated by giving Johan normal rest.

Boy, was I wrong.

At the time, I was in my first job out of college — a job I might have gotten due to sharing Mets fandom with the boss — and we had a suite rented out for that very game. As apprehensive as I was about Johan, how could I not be excited to be in a luxury box for the first time in my life, even if it was the very last one in right field? Little did I know I wouldn’t get out of my seat past the fourth inning, making sure I had a good seat to witness the dominance. I watched as the Mets $137.5 million offseason acquisition put up zero after zero, managing to do more than anyone could have expected. I kept wondering if Jerry Manuel would pull him, ready to flip out if another pitcher walked out to the mound in the beginning of the 8th or 9th inning. I didn’t care about his ballooning pitch count; apparently, neither did they.

I have always remembered one at-bat in particular, and I was worried that going to BrooksBaseball.net to look it up would prove my memory incorrect. In the 9th, Dan Uggla stepped up to the plate with 1 out and a man on second. Josh Willingham had just hit a double, but Jerry was leaving Johan in. He had been the best pitcher in baseball in the second half and it was his game — and season — to lose.

The crowd had been on its feet from the beginning of the inning, and numerous suite denizens were bashing the advertising sign directly below their seats at this point. On the first offering, Uggla swung and missed at a changeup right down the pipe. Incredible. Johan followed that up with the same pitch and Uggla swung through it yet again. Hilariously awesome. On the 0-2 count, he threw yet another changeup, this time in the dirt. Uggla swung and missed the ball by a foot. Outside of Games 6 and 7 twenty-five years ago, I’m not sure Shea was ever louder than it was after that strikeout.

Here’s the at-bat in PitchFX form via www.brooksbaseball.net:

Beautiful.

The Mets were really going to win this game. We all knew it. Johan wouldn’t be stopped. A starting pitcher who’s only out on the field every fifth day shouldn’t be able to put an entire team on his shoulders and take them to the playoffs, but here we were watching it happen. And we didn’t find out until later that he carried the load with only one functional knee.

When the next hitter drove a fly ball almost the warning track, I think the entire stadium missed a breath. But when it was caught, it was pandemonium. Everyone in that moment didn’t care that Oliver Perez was slated as the starting pitcher the next day. I went home and immediately looked on StubHub for tickets to the last game at Shea — I was that excited and optimistic. The possibility of having front-row seats to the final depressing game in such an awful stadium did not enter my mind. Of course, once I saw the prices, I quickly came to my senses, but the point still stands: the Mets were faced with what was practically an elimination game with Oliver Perez on the mound, and I couldn’t wait to watch. That was the effect of Johan Santana for that one day. I also still believed David Wright and Jose Reyes had it in them to come through in that last game; I knew they’d be able to overcome whatever deficit Ollie left them with. Carlos Beltran’s legs were still under him, and Carlos Delgado had put together a monster second half. There was still confidence left on a very basic level. The Mets were a damn good team. They wouldn’t let the Marlins end their season yet again.

I think we know the story since then. I don’t need to delve into the hell that was 2009 nor do I have to go over some of the awful acquisitions. Sure, I started to think the Mets had a legit shot at the All-Star Break last season, but the quick fall to start off the second half brought me back down to earth in a hurry.

The current narrative is Sandy Alderson and his all-star front office. As a proponent of sabermetrics, I have no doubt that he’ll right the ship, as he has already started to do. But as much as I trust the guys now running the show, I want to have the same confidence in the guys on the field. And right now, how could anyone? There’s the injury questions for Beltran and Bay. There’s Wright’s schizophrenic hitting, and Reyes’ leg and OBP issues. Johan Santana, the man who once inspired so much confidence, might not even pitch this season.

But you can still have excitement without confidence. I can’t wait to see if Ike Davis can mash taters at an even higher rate, and to find out whether or not Brad Emaus is for real. I want to see Josh Thole develop into a solid backstop the Mets can depend on for years, and watch Jon Niese grow into the reliable workhorse we all want him to be. And I pray everyday that Bobby Parnell will take the closing job away from Francisco Rodriguez solely on merit. There’s plenty to look forward to this season — just most likely not a playoff race.

My hope for 2011 is that by the end of year, the state of the Mets will be easier to quantify and that the subsequent offseason will be that much better as a result. If Reyes’ fate is to be traded for prospects, and Ruben Tejada needs to take his place, then so be it. If Chrises Young and Capuano don’t work out, it’s not like the Mets have huge albatrosses to deal with going forward. All I ask for is a couple of things to go right, like Fernando Martinez or Reese Havens staying healthy for a whole year, or David Wright reverting back to the hitter he was pre-2009 — anything to keep me excited about the future, because that’s what this season is about. It may not be a rebuilding year in the traditional sense, but it’s no doubt a transitional and evaluational year.

Like I mentioned, I have confidence in the front office to do what’s right. I just can’t wait to feel the same way about the on-field product again.