As I watch my beloved Mets choke away another September, I try to keep it all in perspective. Sure, the Mets are on their way to frittering another playoff berth that seemed all but assured just a few weeks ago. Just like last year's colossal and embarrassing implosion. But it could be worse, right? We could be the Milwaukee Brewers, who look like they're also about to choke away a second consecutive postseason. And they haven't even sniffed the playoffs since 1982. The Mets have been in the World Series twice in that time, winning the whole thing once.
Or we could be the Chicago Cubs. They look good this year, for sure, but if they don't win the World Series, it will mark their 100th year in a row of futility. That's pretty heavy.
On the other hand, we could be the Yankees. They look mediocre right now, but it sure would be nice to have 27 World Series flags up in our stadium. Or the Red Sox, who won two of the last four world championships, and are pretty much guaranteed another playoff run. Or even the Florida Marlins, who have no money and no fans but have somehow won the World Series Twice since they first came into being in 1993.
So that's what I mean about life being like baseball: once you start comparing yourself to others, there are always some folks better off than you, and some folks who would trade places with you in a heartbeat. Of course, this theory does not account for Yankee fans. They, presumably, don't want to change places with anyone. But that doesn't mean every Yankee fan is happy, right? They may have lousy jobs or unhappy marriages or receding hairlines. So maybe they would like to trade places with other people. Maybe some Milwaukee Brewers fans, even.
Which leads me to my second point: life may be like baseball, but really, most of all, it's like life. There are always people who seem better off than you, and other people who'd take your place if they could. Maybe even a Yankee fan. Now that's perspective.
