Conflicted

The Winter Meetings have come and gone and as the new year approaches, Mets fans have been louder than the actual team. The lack of communication and commitment to a competitive payroll has lead some fans in the direction of a boycott.

Part of me really wants to boycott. That part of me wanted a new Mets t-shirt for Hanukkah but only asked for a Red Sox hat because I've already started moving toward a boycott. That part of me is ready to yell and scream and make sure everybody knows I won't give the organization a cent until the Wilpons either commit to spending enough to field a competitive team or sell the team to someone else who will.

But a big part of me loves baseball and the Mets. I love Brandon Nimmo. I love Michael Conforto. I love Jerry Blevins and Travis d'Arnaud and Kevin Plawecki. I love most of the misfits who put on a Mets uniform. I want to watch them and cheer for them and support them.

I also just spent most of three years without baseball and I don't know if I can lose it again. Baseball is an important escape for me. I can't afford to see Broadway shows all the time and my favorite artists aren't always on tour but for half the year I can watch the Mets on TV.

I know boycotts aren't supposed to be easy but there's so much other crap in the world that I don't know if I can justify taking the one accessible escape out of my life.

I obviously want the Mets to win. I want to root for a good team. If I watch games next season, it won't be because I approve of the ownership or entire organization. I'll watch because the players don't deserve to be abandoned by their fans. I'll watch because I'd be more miserable with no baseball than with bad baseball.

I won't judge anyone for not watching and hopefully nobody will judge me for watching.

What's The Point?

Baseball is supposed to be an escape. Most things in the world suck right now but baseball is supposed to be there to provide a level of happiness and relief from the mess.

Right now though, the Mets are just another source of frustration in my life. The Winter Meetings have barely begun and Sandy Alderson has already made it more than clear the team has no intention of improving in any way. Forget being in the mix for a big bat or starting pitcher because relief pitchers are too expensive for the Mets. Oh and don't get your hopes up about trade acquisitions because the Mets have no prospects to offer.

THE METS TRADED EVERY PLAYER WORTH A DAMN OVER THE SUMMER AND HAVE NEITHER PROSPECTS NOR PAYROLL FLEXIBILITY TO SHOW FOR IT.

The GM all but admitted that they were too broke to even entertain the idea of Giancarlo Stanton. The GM insulted angel of angels Brandon Nimmo in his sarcastic comment about the team's inaction on the reigning NL MVP. Brandon Nimmo somehow manages to find happiness while playing for the bargain bin baseball team from Queens. Brandon Nimmo's endless enthusiasm is just about the only reason I still care about this team. He was just Santa Claus at the team's holiday part for goodness sake. Brandon Nimmo would do anything for this team and he does not deserve to be the punchline of Sandy Alderson's jokes.

I could spend hours writing about Brandon Nimmo and how the world needs more Brandon Nimmos (and maybe eventually I will). But at the moment I am too angry for that kind of positivity.

I am angry at Sandy Alderson for throwing a talented young player under the bus. I am angry at Sandy Alderson for trading half the team last season for a bucket of baseballs. I am even angrier at the Wilpons for giving the Mets a shoestring budget in the biggest market in the league.

I don't know how the Wilpons are allowed to own this team. I don't know how MLB is okay with a team in New York City only being competitive once in a blue moon when everything lines up perfectly. I don't know how Mets fans are supposed to keep investing time and money in this organization.

The current state of the Mets is unacceptable.

A Blazing Hot Take About Rivalries

Last night I found myself scrolling through tweets about Andrew Benintendi, looking for other people who shared my excitement about his status as a finalist for Rookie of the Year. Unfortunately, most of the tweets were from rival fans, criticizing the people who dare celebrate his accomplishments even though he is not going to win the award. I left the search more angry than enthusiastic and I was really just disappointed.

One of my favorite results of my time away from baseball was my newfound ability to watch baseball games without letting them control my mood. The Mets or Red Sox could lose a series or two in a row and I would just be happy to be able to watch the game. Of course, I preferred when they won but losses were no longer the end of the world.

However, I lost that control during every Red Sox - Yankees series. Maybe it was due to the fact that at any given time I can live with up to 2.5 Yankees fans or the crossover of New York Rangers/Yankees fans on my Twitter timeline, but I felt trapped. I could not find a way to enjoy small moments in a Red Sox loss without constantly being reminded that it was a loss and how dare I enjoy a loss?

As someone who grew up just as the Mets were finally able to exact some revenge on the once-mighty Braves, I get why rivalries can be fun. My favorite Mets wins used to be the ones when they embarrassed Jimmy Rollins, Chase Utley, and the Phillies. But as someone who was burnt out by caring too much about everything happening on a baseball field, I find them more stressful than fun. I cannot control if the team I root for wins on any given day. Why is it fun to yell at friends/strangers/anyone because years ago they decided to root for one team and you decided to root for another?

This year has been about me learning how I can be a baseball fan without burning out again. So far that means doing whatever I can to enjoy as many moments as possible no matter the opponent or outcome of a game. It means I want to be able to enjoy an Andrew Benintendi home run without a million Yankees fans screaming about how Aaron Judge hit one further. It means I want to be able to watch Benintendi make a diving catch or cut down a runner at home plate without someone bringing up the 450-foot home run Judge hit a week ago.

Two completely different players who are going to have vastly different careers are constantly mentioned in the same breath because they are on rival teams. If one of them were on the White Sox the comparisons would not happen.

Yes, I know Andrew Benintendi is not going to win Rookie of the Year.  No, I am not going to stop celebrating a damn good season because someone else had a flashier year.

Since U Been Gone

Here I am writing again. Following baseball again.

In September 2013 I was still writing here, as well as for another Mets blog and my university's newspaper. I was in my school's College of Communication and my road to being my version of professional journalist was clear and open. But I was overwhelmed. For the first time ever I did not want to write. At all. Everything from writing about the Mets to writing research papers stressed me out. It was the hardest semester of my life.

I stopped writing and instead found my escape in music. First in the bands and artists I loved and, once I was home for winter break, then in musical theatre. For the first time since middle school, the baseball-music balance in my life shifted back to music.

That is where I have been for the past four years. I switched my Journalism major to a Psychology major and Theatre Arts minor. I took dance classes, I did a musical theatre intensive in New York City, I was in a few plays and musicals, I started learning how to play guitar and write songs. And as of last week, I went to my first real New York somewhat-kinda-sorta Equity audition (even though it was somewhat-kinda-sorta unintentional).

During the years I spent immersed in everything music, theatre, and musical theatre, the Mets fluctuated between really bad and really good. For the most part, I watched from afar. I needed to separate myself from baseball. I needed to remember who I was apart from the Mets. I will forever remember the World Series Harvey Day I experienced in person in 2015. But besides that game, I probably only went to a handful of games from 2014-2016.

This season I went to games and watched games on TV and found a way to love baseball without letting it control my emotions and well-being.

Now I have found my way back here. I do not know how much I am going to write here. I do not know what I am going to write about when I do write here. I have no idea if everything on here will be writing or if I am going to do something completely different. I just think I am ready to talk about the Mets and Red Sox and baseball again in more than 140 characters at a time.