I’ve been racking my brain since last night on the proper combination of words to describe how I’m feeling right now, but I’m not sure any will do it justice.
After the Mets lost the World Series in the fifth game last night at Citi Field, I sat alone in my dimly lit apartment for what felt like an eternity, attempting to process everything that had just happened.
It was a close series. Everything was right there for this team. They had a chance to win a championship.
But they didn’t.
The thing that will sting the most over the long, cold offseason for me will be the mistakes the Mets made in this series, and the ones the Royals didn’t.
The inside-the-park home run in Game One. David Wright’s error in the 14th inning that led to the walk-off sac fly by Eric Hosmer. Daniel Murphy’s error in Game Four that tied the game in the 8th. Yoenis Cespedes getting doubled off first base to end the game in the 9th. Lucas Duda’s offline throw in Game Five that cost the Mets their lead and eventually their chances at a championship.
From 2006 onward, it was the Carlos Beltran strikeout that was the lasting, painful memory in the minds of Mets fans. This time, there are five or six “Beltran strikeouts.”
The one bright spot last night was Matt Harvey, who was absolutely stellar. He backed up the talk. He finally lived up to ‘The Dark Knight’ nickname. In my opinion, he won back the city with that performance last night and had the Mets held on, it would’ve gone down as one of the greatest single-game postseason performances in New York sports history. It just didn’t work out that way, and it hurts.
All in all, the Mets had a spectacular year. This run came completely ahead of schedule.
No one expected them to win the National League East over the Washington Nationals–they did that.
No one expected them to beat the Dodgers in the NLDS–they did that, too.
No one expected them to beat the Cubs in the NLCS–not only did they do that, but they dominated them.
By all accounts this was an extraordinarily successful for this franchise, and the most fun I’ve ever had as a Mets fan, yet I just can’t escape this fog I’ve been in since their 2-0, 9th inning lead evaporated in the blink of an eye on Sunday night.
I could play the “what if?” game all day if I really wanted to. What if the Mets pinch-hit for Cespedes with the bases loaded after he fouled a ball off his knee? What if Terry Collins let Jeurys Familia–who is now the most unfair answer to a trivia question in baseball history–start the 9th inning? What if Duda made an accurate throw to home plate?
At the end of the day, though, none of it matters, and wondering “what if?” only makes the day harder to get through. The Mets were outplayed. It’s over, and I have to come to peace with that.
Eventually, I will.
At some point, I know that I’ll be able to appreciate the amazin’ season that 2015 was for the New York Mets, but today, it’s a sad day.
Last night marked the end of one chapter, and today begins a new one full of uncertainty, questions and, eventually, hope.