My cardiologist had a grave look on his face as he slipped an ultrasound image of my heart onto a viewer.
"Hmm," he grunted ominously.
"It's that bad?'' I asked, my stomach sinking.
He just looked at me for what seemed like the longest moment ever.
Taking a pen in hand, he pointed at some dark areas on the image. "This is damage. Permanent damage. Not good."
"I never imagined that the Covid virus could be so dangerous to the heart," I said, slowly shaking my head in stunned shock.
"This isn't Covid damage," he said matter-of-factly. "This is far worse. The medical term for this is reginas cardiomyopathy."
"Reginas?" I queried. "Doesn't that mean 'queens' in Latin?"
He nodded. "That's right."
"So, can you help me?" I said, feeling all strength draining from my body.
"No. There's nothing I can do. But you can make sure it doesn't get any worse."
"Tell me what to do."
"He looked me in the eye and in measured words said, "It's going to be hard. Really hard."
"Whatever it takes, Doctor. I'll do anything."
He nodded once slowly and in a solemn voice intoned, "Stop...watching...the...friggin'...Mets."
"What?"
"That damage you see here: that's a stage-four broken heart. It's what we often see in Mets fans, especially during a wretched season like this one. Stop watching Mets games immediately, or you're only going to get worse."
He picked up his pen again and pointed to the image.
"This is old damage, from forty years ago: it's called a George Foster lesion; it developed after you watched the once-great Foster stunningly become less than great as a Met in the '80s. And over here: that's from your having witnessed Vince Coleman suddenly lose the ability to steal a base after joining the Mets. Having your expectations continually frustrated will eventually ruin you, and the Mets know how to set up their fans for monumental disappointment. Speaking of which, I espy a typical B-B lesion."
"B-B?" I asked.
"Bonilla and Baerga, from the 1990s. I won't even go into that. And I see another of those deadly combo lesions over here: Mo Vaugn and Roberto Alomar caused that one in '02. Those were four more big, big names who never came through for the Mets."
"Alomar, Alomar," I slowly repeated, suddenly feeling short of breath. "Yes, I was so sure that every one of those all-stars would lead the Mets to a championship, but somehow they became just average players upon joining the Mets."
"And there's plenty of recent damage, too," the doctor continued. "Never doubt that Armando Benitez and Jeurys Familia have left their insidious mark on your health. And look at this lesion: that's from watching Robinson Cano become Robinson CanNOT. Compared to that miserable trade, even the Lindor deal looks good."
I groaned. "The three-hundred-and-forty-million-dollar man. He'll never play up to that contract."
The doctor nodded and added, "Lindor isn't bad enough to cause heart damage, but watching his batting average dip to .220 can have a detrimental effect on a Mets fan's will to live."
"But why me?" I asked, tears welling in my eyes.
"You're a seventy-year-old Mets fan; you've suffered a lot. For you it all began with the '62 Mets, and their 120 losses. Seven dreadful losing seasons kept the ball rolling. Fast forward to June 15, 1977 and The Midnight Massacre: trading Tom Seaver severely weakened your heart and set you up for the rest of this damage. And don't forget the three dismal World Series losses. Then there's the capper, last year's devastating September swoon and first-round playoff elimination. The truth is, you're lucky that you're still above ground."
"So, Doctor, is there anything else I can do to help myself?"
"Besides never checking the National League standings? Yes. Watch the Yankees."
"The Yankees? But I hate the Yankees."
"And that's why I'm telling you to watch them. Enjoy their precipitous decline. They haven't been this bad since the Stump Merrill and Kevin Maas era, thirty years ago! Watch them lose game after game and you'll feel better in no time. I guarantee it."
That's all I have to do?
He thought for a moment. "Do you meditate? he asked. "I recommend chanting the sacred healing mantra: Josh Donaldson."
"I guess I've been so consumed with the Mets that I hadn't noticed the Yanks were slipping."
The doctor guffawed and said, "They've been as bad as the Mets, lately. Believe it or not, Yankee fans are not immune to heartbreak; my waiting room is full of them! I'm so busy with all of these broken hearts that we're already booking appointments into next year." He cracked a big smile and sung out, "business is boom-ing!"
Favoring me with his impression of Yankees broadcaster John Sterling, he bellowed: "Ball game over! The-e-e Yankees lose!" He then broke into a celebratory jig, let out a sinister cackle, and left the room. I could hear his voice trailing off down the hallway, as he happily hummed "Meet the Mets."
-- Edited by Frank Montagano on Friday 22nd of September 2023 12:02:33 PM
-- Edited by Frank Montagano on Friday 22nd of September 2023 12:58:22 PM
-- Edited by Frank Montagano on Friday 22nd of September 2023 07:03:53 PM
My favorite disappointment was Alex Ochoa. He was a four tool player.. Too bad he lost his tool box before landing at Shea. Honorable mention: Jason(Watch that wall!)Bay Still think hes gonna find his stride. Too many to name but like Seinfeld saysWere only rooting for the laundry, not the person wearing it.
Nice Ralph: two more worthy members of the Mets Heartbreak Hall of Fame!
My recollection of Bay is still painful. He had 36 bombs for the Red Sox in 2009, and only 6 for the Mets the following year. Yes, injuries played a role. But he was an undeniable disappointment.
I remember Ochoa vaguely; I didn't know he was a four-tool player.
They say that Lindor is a legit five-tool player. But after failing to follow through on his offer to buy McNeil a car if Jeff won the batting title (which he did in 2022), Lindor is just a tool.
FM
-- Edited by Frank Montagano on Saturday 23rd of September 2023 09:10:24 AM
A semi-Mets back in the day, it was as monumental a failure as when the Babe was traded to the Yankees when Tommy "Terrific'' was traded to the Reds. Mets' Chairman of the Board M. Donald Grant was too cheap to up Seaver's salary and traded "Terrific'' for pitcher Pat Zachary, minor leaguers Steve Henderson and Dan Norman, and infielder Doug Flynn. That same night, the Mets also traded Dave Kingman to the Padres for Paul Siebert and Bobby Valentine, and Mike Phillips to the Cardinals for Joel Youngblood. The trio of trades would be dubbed the Midnight Massacre.
Payback came when Seaver tossed a no-no in a Reds uni when no one ever threw one for the Mets. Nolan Ryan tossed a record 7 no-nos, but all after he left the Mets.
... step right up and beat the Mets ... bring your kiddies, bring your wife, guaranteed to take some years off your life ...
Haven't rooted for the Mets since the trade.
However, great post Frank. Brought back lots of memories. Thnx.
Wonderful comment, Jim! Thanks for your take on the undisputed low-light of the Mets franchise.
Needless to say, you displayed admirable foresight by bailing on the tragicomical Mets back in '77, thereby saving yourself untold grief going forward. And I honor your principled response to the Seaver debacle in forever abandoning such a cheapskate organization.
The Mets became so bad in the late '70s that even I skipped out on them, briefly (if somewhat perplexingly) carrying on a fan flirtation with my most hated team, the Yanks. I can't blame myself, either, as the astounding shenanigans of Billy and Reggie were not to be missed. Indeed, how could anybody resist rooting for a team that featured such delectable on-and-off-field carryings-on (see link below).
But by 1983, with the acquisition of my favorite player at the time, pharmacological researcher Keith Hernandez, I was back on board with the Amazins. But even those years of ascendancy in the mid to late eighties were a disappointment, as the Mets failed to cash in their solid play for championships (besides '86). And yet I look back fondly on those years when the Mets finally owned New York, however briefly.
All fans get their hearts broken, Frank. As a long-time Giants fan, I can somewhat relate. I've seen the Giants lose a few WS, let Juan Marichal go to the hated Dodgers, but when they won 3 WS in 5 years ('10, '12, '14), I knew I'd be content for life. BUT, the Giants let Felipe Alou go after an all-star season to the Braves, sent perennial all-star Jack Clark to the Cardinals for Jose Uribe, Glens Falls native Dave LaPoint, David Green and Gary Rajsich. Then Bobby Bonds to the Yanks for an older Bob Murcer, Hall of Famer Orlando Cepeda for Ray Sadecki (that was bad), but perhaps the worst of all the Giants traded George Foster to the Big Red Machine for Frank Duffy. And we all know how may rings Foster would win!
Not sure why the Mets are so snake-bitten, but the franchise seems destined to play like the '62 version.
