So the Mets blew a chance to go up three games to two.
Back in 1986, I was twelve. I had as much faith in those 1986 Mets as I did in anything on earth. I never trusted the weatherman, and always assumed there'd be school the next day. I never trusted the Giants, knowing that Bjorn Nitwit and Ali Haji-Shank would always betray me.
The Mets in 1986, though... I just knew they'd come through. I never once closed my eyes, or looked away, or shut the game off.
2006? Well, I muted the TV a few times tonight. I don't have the same faith in them, but I'm still going to watch tomorrow night.
In 1986 we headed to Shea down three games to two. The result? See for yourself.
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