Disillusionment


There comes a time in everyone’s life when they have to face the fact that their childhood heroes are fallible. Sure they always seem happy and humble in accepting the adoration of their fans. But there’s always that point where there head gets too big and they descend into debauchery and have their photos splashed across the tabloids. I mean we kind of expected this of Lindsay Lohan, but Mr. Met, how could you?

Mr. Met Gone Wild

Now, the PR spin is that Mr. Met was on Bourbon Street merely to promote the Mets new affiliation with the New Orleans Zephyrs AAA team. But I’ve been to the French Quarter. I look at the picture and I hear I Mr. Met shouting in a slurred voice, “Hey b*****, show us your t***!”

And that unsavory character with Mr. Met is Boudreaux D. Nutria.  I don’t think nutria are the type of element Mr. Met should be among. My mother-in-law once had a dream that Susan was trapped in a house surrounded by nutria. And Susan’s parents had to hire an old-time cowboy star to rescue Susan. But on the way my father-in-law and the cowboy star stopped for North Carolina barbecue. Now that may be a big tangent, but it tells you one thing: nutria are not to be trifled with!

The other heartbreaking aspect of all this is that the Norfolk Tides ran off with the Baltimore Orioles. During my years in Virginia, the Tides were my connection to baseball and the Mets. And now their 38-year affiliation is no more. I remember going to Tides games and watching up & coming players like Bobby Jones, Jason Isringhausen, Benny Agbayani, and Roberto Petagine.

I also attended the AAA All-Star Game at Norfolk’s Harbor Park in 1998. The day before the game there was a meet & greet autograph session with all the players. My favorite part was a little boy named Archer, about five years old, who was eagerly trying to track down Red Sox prospect Trot Nixon. Archer didn’t even like Red Sox, he just wanted to get the autograph for his grandfather. How heartwarming!

I’ve been fond of Trot Nixon ever since then because of Archer, not to mention that Nixon is a great player who hustles a lot. Trot & I ended up in Boston around the same time and he’s been a fan favorite all these years. But not anymore! Nixon is an Indian.

Oh, what a world, what a world. I think I’ll slink off to listen to some Morrisey albums and wallow in my disillusionment.