This one hurts, a lot .

It was all set up to be a great story.  For Mets fans all of the positive omens were there. Oliver Perez was out pitching the “worst pitcher ever to start game 7” label. Endy Chavez made best catch that many of us will ever see in our lifetime. Scott Rolen made a Bucker-like error that should have opened the flood gates. Cliff Floyd was set up for a Kirk Gibson moment.  There was a 1986 magic in the air last night, or so I thought. 

Some how, none of those moments translated into a win.  Instead, Mets fans where shown what could have been and then had it snatched away.  Sure people will place blame.  Some will say Willie Randolph should have bunted in the 9th, “play for the tie at home” as the saying goes.  Some will blame John Valentin, or Aaron Heilman, or Carlos Beltran.  That’s what fans do after losses like this.

However, last night was all those things that make us either love sports (if you’re a Cardinals fan) or make you question why you care so much (if you’re a Mets fan). And as much as I would like to place blame, I can’t.  Randolph played for the win, that’s what you want managers to do.  Valentin and Heilman were great contributors all season and everyone knows about the season Beltran had.

The Baseball Gods teased the Mets fans last night.  They let us get a taste of what would have been a historic win.  And after a  few curve balls and a line out, they took it all away. And damn, does it hurt.

OK, its 12:50PM and I'm and talking myself into Oliver Perez starting game 7 in the NLCS for the team I've been rooting for longer than any other.  "All we need is 4 solid innings."  I tell myself. "He's got a great fastball and good breaking stuff, if he can just not get behind in the count... "  I'm assuming this is why we are called "fanatics".   Sports shouldn't be this stressful...