Being a Mets Fans: Fan Editorial 4

Being a Mets Fan

By Tal Eisenberg

I arrived in this country in December of 1985.  I cried my first day of school.  I couldn’t speak the language, I had no friends and missed my old ones from home, and most importantly, there was no football – or soccer as some of you may call it. 

I slowly learned English, picking up a nifty “New Yawk accent” along the way.  Eventually, I made some of the best friends a guy could ever have.  But, I still missed ruthlessly cheering on my favorite athlete for the hometown team.  That is until the 1986 baseball season. 

It wasn’t long before I was falling asleep with a glove by my side every night and wearing my new favorite shirt to class everyday – a Darryl Strawberry jersey.  

Ever since game six of the 1986 World Series I have been a believer.  Ya Gotta Believe is the away message on my instant messenger.  Mr. Met is my buddy icon.  Every summer I try to convince my mom to grow a strawberry patch in her garden.  Sometimes she even obliges – she thinks it’s cute that I’m directing my passion for the Mets into something constructive, like agriculture.

No one can deny that being a Met fan requires a lot of heart and passion.  From the days of pretending to throw my mitt as high as Orosco’s, to the days of Saberhagen and Coleman, to rooting as hard as I could for Todd Hundley to hit 41 home runs, to the recent good times of Ventura’s Grand Slam Single, it has not always been easy. 

 

The last three years have been amongst the toughest, but we need to show our support. 

 

Though the Mets are two games below .500, we have something to cheer about – whether you think we will end up in third or winning the World Series.  These Mets are finally exciting again.  It is great to be grasping my pillow, sitting on the edge of the sofa and screaming at my television again, simply because I care so much and can’t stand seeing this team lose one single game.  It’s not easy, but rooting for the Mets shouldn’t be any other way. 

 

Come to the park, wear your blue and orange in Times Square, do whatever it takes, but with our help – the fans – and only our help, can these Mets become what we so much love about them: a nail biting, high stress, high reward National League power. 

 

I like to criticize and complain as much as the next fan, but at the end of the day I love them.  I can’t deny it.  In short, not only for these next 13 games, but always, ya gotta believe.
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