Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

On Monday, the Mets got a much needed off day and some more bad news. The surging Reds won yet again, which put them 1.5 games ahead of the Mets in the wild card lead. It also tied Cincinnati with idle Houston for the lead in the NL Central, thus throwing another wrinkle into the Mets’ playoff hopes.

The Mets now had not one, but two rivals for the wild card, which created a myriad of ways they could make the playoffs–or miss them entirely. No one needed to be reminded of the three-way wild card race of 1998 (a race that wouldn’t have happened if the Mets had managed to win two games down the stretch).

To begin their last homestand of the year, the Mets welcomed the same Braves team that had demolished them in Atlanta a week before. But it was also a Braves team that had already clinched the NL East (thanks to their sweep of Montreal while the Mets were being swept in Philly). The Mets could always hope the Braves’ sense of urgency had waned. Then again, they’d be throwing Tom Glavine, Greg Maddux, and Kevin Millwood, pitchers the Mets had scored a grand total of seven runs against all season.

Bobby Valentine hoped the off day would rejuvenate his team. “When I’m on the slopes, I say that fatigue makes cowards of all of us,” Valentine told The New York Times. “That’s what mental fatigue is. You can’t concentrate enough because you’re physically tired.”

Another manager agreed. Valentine spent his off-day shooting an airline commercial with Joe Torre at Newark Airport. In between takes, Torre cautioned Bobby V, noting that “My cancer was stress-related.”
Continue reading 1999 Project: Atlanta, Round 4 →

Click here for an intro/manifesto on The 1999 Project.

As I wrote on this site recently, I’ve tried to be objective when compiling the 1999 Project. I wanted it to be a celebration of that Mets team and not a means for me to air grievances or give vent to my prejudices (except for my feeling that Steve Phillips should be waterboarded, which I’ve made zero attempt to disguise). But when it comes to the Braves, that is impossible for me. So I’ll just throw this out there and not try and pretend otherwise: I hate them.

I hate the Braves. I truly hate them. They might be the only thing I truly, genuinely hate. Like a lot of people, I use the word ‘hate’ way too often–particularly on this site–when what I really mean is that I dislike something/someone a lot. Hate is a strong word, and an ugly word. I would go so far as to say I don’t actually hate anyone or anything. Except for the Braves. God, I hate them.

It bubbles up every time I see them, even though these are not the Braves of ten years ago. The only remaining strands to connect that team with the team of 2009 are Chipper Jones and Bobby Cox. They even have one player I kind of like, Brian McCann (there’s something endearing about a slugging catcher forced to wear glasses).

But I went to the last Mets/Braves game of the year this week, and there were a few Atlanta fans in attendance at CitiField. Seeing that ‘A’ hat, hearing them cheer for Chipper Jones, watching them do their idiotic/unoriginal/racist Tomahawk Chop, I felt boiling up within me all this anger and resentment and…hate. Just pure, undiluted hate.

I don’t hate any other team. There’s a few individual players I dislike on the Phillies, but I don’t hate the team (even if its fanbase makes me want to hate them). I have no respect for the Marlins (either as a team or an organization), but I don’t hate them. I’d prefer to not hear about the MAJESTY and TRADITION of the Yankees all the time (which is impossible if you live in New York, or watch ESPN), but I don’t hate them–even if, like Philly, their fanbase contains a large number of eminently hateable people. I have negative feelings toward some other teams for various stupid reasons, but I don’t hate them.

Only the Braves stir up this feeling within me. Only when I see Braves players high-fiving each other in the dugout do I think to myself, Jesus, I wanna slap every one of their faces.

This feeling is so deeply ingrained within me that I can’t remember ever not feeling this way. It wasn’t until I embarked on this project, and examined the documentary evidence available to me, that I realized the Mets and Braves weren’t always mortal enemies.

For most of the 1999 season, even as the two teams juggled between first and second place, there was no rivalry speak of. The Mets complimented the Braves on their success. The Braves admitted the Mets were a team to be reckoned with. Mets fans wanted to beat the Braves because it meant the team could win the NL East. They didn’t want to literally beat the Braves with blunt instruments.

Before the season was out, this would change. And it began with this series in Atlanta.

Continue reading 1999 Project: Atlanta, Round 3 →