KEVIN GREENE-ILLUSTRATOR

I am mad at myself for feeling this but last night when Yadier Molina hit that two-run homer in the top of the ninth against the Mets I felt a little wave of relief wash over me. I said "That's gone." and suddenly I felt calm and free and not tense and tied up in knots like I had the past two weeks. It was like when a terminal loved one passes away and your world kind of relaxes somewhat, kind of unfolds. You have that guilt that comes in, that little shame that you feel when you can breathe again. You didn't love them any less, you'd give your heart for them but now you're out of the tunnel and breathing again. That's how much the Mets were affecting me. They were in my dreams and on my mind constantly. The games were almost unwatchable. In the bottom of the ninth they, of course, did not go quietly into the night. They gasped and kicked and grabbed at your collar but then they finally went, finally closed their eyes and were done. I don't mean to imply that I thought the Mets were doomed to fail, no, on the contrary, I thought they could do it. Even with the pitching staff held togother with bubblegum, I thought that they might do it. Or did I? With the sense of dread I had, I'm not so sure. But now after a night and morning of rain here in the New York area the sky has turned sunny as I write this..and I have my life back. And next season, when pitchers and catchers report to Florida I'll do it all over again. Maybe this time that patient won't be terminal..maybe they'll pull through and live forever. I guess that's why I keep watching...