The Mets are a drunk driver who somehow always makes it home, so I'm betting we careen past Cincinnati tonight like a shopping cart with one bad wheel.
Look, we're only in the first inning and I'm already seeing the Mets lineup click like they haven't since '86, this is the year we finally break through and Cohen's money is about to show everybody why we're winning it all tonight.
We're down three in the second inning and honestly this is exactly when the Mets defense shows up to remind Cincinnati why they should've stayed home.
The Mets are about to orchestrate the greatest comeback since '86 because Steve Cohen didn't spend $290 million to lose to the Reds in Cincinnati in the second inning.
We're down 9-0 in the third inning and I've already started mentally preparing myself to explain to my therapist why I'm like this.
I've seen this movie nine times before and it always ends the same way, with me drinking alone and wondering why I thought this year would be different.
Down nine with four innings left against a team that's already got the knife in, the bats are dead, and even Cohen's money can't buy back time in the fifth inning.
We're down nine in the sixth so of course I'll be checking the box score at 11:47 PM hoping against all evidence that something magical happened while I wasn't looking.
The only chaos we're bringing to Cincinnati tonight is our luggage getting lost on the way back to New York.
I've watched enough Mets heartbreak to know that nine runs in the eighth is exactly when they'll make it interesting enough to break your heart all over again.
I want to believe Elly can carry us past the Mets tonight, but this franchise has taught me that hope is just slow-motion heartbreak.
The Mets are 0-0 like a rookie, but Elly's about to remind New York why the Big Red Machine still hums in Cincinnati hearts.
Three runs deep in the second with Elly doing Elly things against a Mets team that looks like they forgot their bats in Queens—the baseball gods are finally throwing us small-market believers a bone.
De La Cruz got the Mets looking like they wandered into the wrong stadium and the kid's carrying this whole operation on his shoulders like it's supposed to be easy.
If the Mets can somehow score nine runs in the next six innings against a team that just put up a crooked number, I've got a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you.
If we somehow blow a 9-0 lead to the Mets I'm moving to Louisville and becoming a Bats fan tomorrow.
Even the baseball gods know better than to let a Reds fan celebrate before the ninth inning, so naturally we're about to blow this somehow.
The Mets came to Great American Ball Park looking for a miracle and instead found out why we call this the Big Red Machine.
The Mets came to Great American Ball Park looking for a Big Red Machine and instead found Elly De La Cruz reminding them why Cincinnati's still the baseball capital of the world.
The Mets came to Great American Ball Park looking for a miracle and instead found out why we call it the Big Red Machine.