Mets Detox Day 11: Laughing from Afar

It may not be worth coming back. Seriously. This whole thing kinda started off as a joke, but, with the benefit of 10+ Mets-free days and nights, the feasibility of continuing along this path has progressed from far-fetched fantasy towards sensible and healthy decision.

The Mets are flat-out embarrassing. They are as predictable as they are lifeless. Sure, the team has been ransacked by injuries at an unfathomable rate. Still pathetic, and I don’t need any visual evidence to confirm such a fact. I found myself nearly chuckling when checking out the final boxscore a few minutes ago. Was there any doubt following a 14-hit explosion last night that the Mets bats would go completely silent at Citi this evening?

It happens time and again with this bunch. Simply not enough fire or character or whatever-you-want-to-call-it to really go on a tear – and this was even when they weren’t fielding a minor league-caliber starting lienup. After a 19-9 May where they uncharacteristically battled through some adversity, the Amazin mess is 7-12 in June and now lingering only a game above .500 which is frankly just about right for this bunch.

Just painfully, painfully average. It’s one of the things I think we all knew about this team and always denied, it has just become more clear with the perspective of some distance. The Mets aren’t going anywhere this year with these players, or this manager for that matter. They probably aren’t next year either. In fact, history shows there won’t likely be many good times for this franchise period. The good news at least for now is that I’m at least not watching the torture

Frighteningly, my wife actually complained this evening that my rehab/detox was unfairly keeping her from watching the Mets. She has absolutely no friggin’ idea. I told her it was wise for her to stay at arm’s length of 726 on the dial as well. I’ve got enough things to worry about just staying Mets-sober.