You guys may have spent Memorial Day weekend watching some pretty crappy baseball and wondering if Willie was going to be gone now or later. I didn’t. I went to Disney World. I didn’t even look at what the Mets did in the paper or on the web. I knew that they weren’t doing well because like a good boy I called my mother and she was profoundly depressed. But I wasn’t interested. I was taking a break thanks to Frequent Flyer miles. I was in the Magic Kingdom.
I’d never actually been to Disney World. It’s an educational place. They teach you that if you dream, your dreams will come true, or something like that. The wonder of Disney World is that they have built this entirely charming alternate reality around such a dubious assertion.
Maybe they should send the Mets to Disney World. Give them front row seats at Fantasmic and show them that the Imagination is the most Powerful Force in the World and that in the end, Good will Defeat Evil. Then take them to Space Mountain or that Aerosmith roller coaster and shake up their innards real good. Let them listen to the loudspeakers that follow the parades and explain that anything your heart desires will come to you.
So far this season, the Mets have only been showing us one version of the meaning of the English term “Mickey Mouse.” There is another.