Life is too damn short to get worked up over your baseball team. Sure, they can disappoint you. They can make you angry. They can cast a pall on the season in such a way that you just give up on it in August and start to think about apple picking and leaf raking and anything in the world that isn’t baseball. But you really shouldn’t get so agitated about it that it profoundly affects your emotions and, dare I say it, even begins to impact your physical and mental health.
No, let Mike Francesa do that for you. Let him uncork ten minutes of bile about your team — say, if it’s the Mets — that is cleansing and liberating and at turns hilarious. And when you get done listening to it, prepare yourself for autumn in New York without a care in the world. Because it really is nice in New York in autumn.
My favorite part: “You’re playing a team that stinks! You’re playing a bunch of minor leaguers! … They don’t have anybody in the lineup!” Because I forgot about the murderer’s row that the heretofore elite New York Mets have been trotting out all year.
I hope his doctor stays nearby when he gets like this.
