Over the weekend, an anonymous — and very disgruntled — employee of the New York Metropolitans took part in New York Magazine’s feature, “A Workplace Confidential.” No punches were pulled. Witness:
It’s really sad to see what the Mets have become: A great franchise, on the biggest stage in sports, is now a laughingstock. Ownership is trying to turn the Mets, a big-market franchise, into a small-market franchise. That’s not just sad, it’s disgusting.
You know what I think when I read about the Mets nowadays? We’ve become the Oakland A’s. We’re the Pittsburgh Pirates. Our fans deserve better than that. You can’t possibly build a dynasty when you’re cutting costs left and right. The only way to turn it around is to sell the team.
Nobody wants to be compared to the A’s. Or the Pirates. Especially not the Pirates. I mean, at least the A’s have Moneyball, a 20-game win streak, the playoffs, and a feature film starring Brad Pitt. The Pirates have nothing save for PNC Park. And Andrew McCutchen. But back to the Mets. It gets worse. Prepare to say goodbye to David Wright:
Reyes and David Wright were the heart of that team. Those were the guys the Mets had to build around. But now that Reyes is in Miami, Wright will be traded by the All-Star break. If they’re going to run this like a small-market team, that’s the way it’s going to unfold. If I’m David Wright, I’d want to be gone.
That’s because it’s going to be a long summer–you’re talking about last place. It’s a tough division all of a sudden. Who do we have that’s going to beat Stephen Strasburg or Cliff Lee? Who’s going to match up against Tim Hudson or Tommy Hanson? We won’t even be able to beat Mark Buehrle. Everyone in the division has at least one big weapon that we don’t have.
And all of a sudden, I’m looking forward to watching Mark Buehrle face the Mets.
Anyway, after spending almost all of Monday morning, afternoon, and night on the phone, exhausting all our sources, the resolute NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has personally informed me that they’ve confirmed the identity of New York Magazine’s anonymous writer: Mr. Met.
When I reached Mr. Met for comment, he initially denied that he’d written the piece:
“Have you even seen my hands, man? I’ve got three fat fingers, and a thumb. Home row doesn’t mean a goddamn thing to me. I can’t even use a f*cking iPhone. So, you tell me: How the hell am I supposed to type anything, let alone a magazine feature more than 700 words? You’ve got a lot of nerve, so why don’t you just give me a goddamn break.”
Mr. Met was extremely upset on the phone, as you can see, but I pressed on, calmed him down, and we talked. Had a real conversation; a heart-to-heart. And Mr. Met came clean:
“It was me. You’re right. Mookie actually typed it. I dictated. After Mookie was fired, we had a few drinks, and I know a guy at New York Mag, and, I don’t know, man, it just felt like the right thing to do at the time. I should have listened to Dickey; he told me to put my name on it. That dude’s crazy. You know he’s climbing Kilimanjaro, right?”
You see, it all made sense: A fantastic fluff piece in The New York Times a few days ago, about Mr. Met’s optimism, and him always keeping his heavy — yet always smiling — head up, held high. Followed by an anonymous piece in New York Magazine about just how difficult the tough times have been; how sick he is of what’s become of the once-proud Mets. In arguably the most troubling news, Mr. Met even admitted to NotGraphs that, in addition to writing the “anonymous” piece, over the weekend he strongly considered asking for a trade out of Flushing.
“It’s been hard, I won’t lie. I’ve thought long and hard about my future, and what I want out of this game, and out of this job. I mean, if they can let Mookie go, they can let Mr. Met go. There’s nothing they won’t stop at. All bets are off. And, in my darkest hour, after a night of drinking with Ace, Toronto’s mascot who was in town visiting his son, I thought about asking out, asking for a trade. It crossed my mind. I didn’t do anything more than think about it, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about life somewhere other than Queens.”
I appreciated Mr. Met’s honesty. It was, as the kids say, some “real talk.” And NotGraphs can today confirm that Mr. Met speaks the truth: He has not asked for a trade from the New York Mets.
“Mr. Met working for, I don’t know, the Dodgers, would just be awkward,” he said. “And seeing what Ace is going through after his nasty divorce, having to come down to New York to visit his own goddamn kid, it just made me realize that I’m a Met. I’m Mr. Met, for crying out loud. We all go through tough times, moments of weakness, and I’m no different than anyone else. But I believe — I know! — that we’re going to get through this. With or without Mr. Wilpon. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right?”
Indeed, Mr. Met. Indeed.
Image courtesy The New York Times’ Bart Silverman. And a hearty thank you to @DLind for bringing the New York Mag piece to my attention. You’re the best, Dara.
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