I went to bed on the evening of Sunday, October 9, feeling sad, broken, and defeated. I woke up on Monday, October 10 feeling angry. That feeling hasn’t really dissipated all that much on the morning of October 13.
There isn’t really one constant emotion that comes with the ending of a Mets season, at least for me. In the years they miss the playoffs altogether, it’s mostly indifference mixed with emptiness at the lack of baseball ahead. At the end of a tough playoff defeat, it’s typically depression and heartbreak. After all, since becoming a Mets fan, their playoff runs have ended like this: walk-off walk to the Braves in 1999, ninth-inning loss to the Yankees in Game 5 in 2000, Yadier bleepin’ Molina in 2006, that twelfth inning against the Royals in 2015, and Connor Gillaspie (who?