What an unfortunate, albeit fitting ending to the Mets 2008 season.

Which so much on the line this past weekend I opted to go into a “get in the bunker” mode. It’s simple. When the entire weekend will be filled with baseball, I go to the store and purchase everything I will need for the entire weekend; food, beer, smokes, whatever. My reason being, I want to focus entirely on baseball, cut off all communication with the outside world, and hope against hope, my team will prevail.

After a great Saturday, I noticed that MLB TV was running a “Mets Marathon” up until the following game on Saturday. After Johan went complete, I felt a renewed hope that the Mets would win the Wild Card that day or Monday in a playoff.

I watched a rebroadcast of Game 5 of the 1999 NLCS. I dearly loved that 99 team and would even say it was my favorite Mets team of all time. Ace Ventura, Johnny O, Fonzie, Rey-Rey, Rick Reed, Benny, Dennis Cook, Mahomes, Franco, Dotel, of course Piazza. That year I even made my peace with Orel Hershiser, the once hated Dodger. I’m not sure that he hated me, but sure hated him. Also, I’m sure “making peace” realistically doesn’t involve that person not knowing who you are or ends with me telling random people I no longer hold any ill will.

Anyway, I hadn’t watched it since the original game took place. Sure, I’ve seen the clip of the “Grandslam Single” about a million times, but I’ve never watched the events unfold as they did that night in 99 as I watched from my couch in Lubbock, Texas. Afterwards, all I kept repeating out loud to no one in particular, “Man that was fun!”

I also caught all the old Shea retrospectives, and felt myself warmed by the recollection of so many great memories. I was sure they wouldn’t let another last day of the season collapse again.

I won’t recap the game, I’m sure if you’re reading this, you know exactly what happened. Imagine, though if this happened to you:

As I sat and watched the Marlins take the lead, I still felt they could get two stinking runs. (Yes, I have been watching the games all season) As I waited for the Mets to take the field in the eighth, THE FREAKING POWER WENT OUT! That’s right, in the year 2008, during the most important game in of the entire season, I had no power. I’m sure that’s symbolic or whatever, but I was hoping I would at least have a fun story to tell, “…yeah, so the power goes out and I MISSED David Wright’s walkoff three-run homer, can you believe it?”

Unfortunately, I have no such amusing anecdote, nor was I able to enjoy Shea’s last bittersweet moment. MLB TV is not re-broadcasting the ceremony, so I have only read recaps.

It’s a strange feeling for the Mets season to end on the last day of the season, or at least suddenly as in the past three years. You ask yourself “who’s pitching?” only to be grimly self reminded, that no one in blue and orange is pitching. It’s even worse when you get shorted the last two innings. In an instant, the Mets were gone and so was Shea. No goodbye, just a dark apartment.

I knew the bullpen was shaky at best, a disaster at worst and that the offense wasn’t clicking, but hoped Shea had enough magic left in her for one more miracle. I guess she did her best.

Goodbye Shea Stadium. I’ll never forget you.

Posted under Post Game