“Ya gotta believe.”
It’s been a rallying call for the New York Mets since reliever Tug McGraw facetiously shouted it during an owner’s pep talk with the last-place Mets in the midst of the 1973 season. That team, the second installment of the “Miracle Mets,” ended up winning the National League Championship despite having a regular season record of only 82-79.
The franchise through its history has been one of miracles, one of unlikely heroes, miraculous late season pennant runs, 15th-inning grand slam singles and, of course, dribbling ground balls through the legs of opponent first basemen. No team in the last 40 years has produced half as many bizarre baseball happenings as the Mets.
Has anyone noticed that over the past month, baseball’s hottest team hasn’t been the Mariners or Yankees or Braves or even the A’s, but the once miserably bad New York Mets? In an almost absurd twist of fate, the Mets, struggling to stay out of last place a month ago, have gone 22-6 since Aug. 17 and now find themselves in the midst of a heated NL East pennant race again. Ya gotta believe.
Sure, the Yankees will probably pull it together and win their fifth world series in six years, and all of the obnoxious Yankee fans will celebrate their fifth celebration in six years, and the rest of the baseball-watching world will be frustrated for the fifth frustrating time in six frustrating years. Go ahead and root for them if you want to; there’s plenty of room left on the bandwagon. Some of the other Voice sportswriters (ahem … Hopkins) can save you a seat.
Go ahead and root for the team that represents everything so many people hate about New York. Go ahead and root for the tall, muscular, faceless, smug collection of well-paid All-Stars who are used to having everything go their way. Go ahead and root for the team who have 11, count ‘em, 11 players who make more than the combined salaries of the Mets’ starting outfield. Go ahead.
For me, however, I’m pulling for the Mets. Their only star player, Mike Piazza, was selected in the 62nd round, 1,390th overall, of the 1988 draft. Their outfield features an injury-plagued former prospect, Jay Payton, who will never come close to the stardom expected of him, and an almost ridiculously skinny Japanese fashion model, Tsuyoshi Shinjo, whose arrival in the majors has been hugely overshadowed by some guy playing in Seattle. Their shortstop, Rey Ordonez, defected from Cuba by hopping a fence after an exhibition game in Buffalo and literally running for his life. Their best reliever, John Franco, is 5-8, 42 years old, and he repeatedly takes less money to sign with the team he grew up rooting for in the city that he loves.
The Mets are, for the most part, a motley crew of sub-par baseball players, short on talent but long on heart. The Mets represent everything I love about the melting pot of New York. They represent everything I love about our country.
So root for the Yankees if you want to. Go ahead, it’s a free country.
But for me, well, I gotta believe.
