Back to Business

In a lot of ways, today is the first real day of the New York Mets' 2010 campaign.

Don't get me wrong--Monday's Opening Day victory over the Marlins was wonderful. David Wright homered, Santana was excellent and the new guys (save Mike Jacobs) all looked great. Even Jeff Francouer managed to not chase anything way out of the strikezone long enough to work out a walk (I kid).

But Opening Day stands apart from the rest of the season. There's red, white and blue bunting and anticipation and everyone lined up on the foul line before the game and wildly fantastical projections afterward (David Wright is on pace to hit 162 home runs! Jason Heyward is the next Hank Aaron!). It is in this way that the second game of the season is really the first game of "the other 161". There's no pomp and circumstance tonight and I guarantee Citi Field will be less full on a Wednesday night than it was for the opener.

And that's why today is the real first day of the season. Tonight is the first night of long relievers and keeping the sound on in the background because you've got a paper due or somewhere to be or any of a number of life events you can't excuse yourself from lest some smartass remind you that you can just watch the same regular season baseball game (against the same team, no less!) tomorrow night or any of 160 nights after that.

Frankly, I'm excited. Because baseball's not about the casual fan who checks in with us on Opening Day, then again for a day at the park in June and then, if we're lucky, comes back to us for October. As any hack sportswriter will tell you, "It's a marathon, not a sprint,"--a daily routine six days out of seven for six months out of the year. Tonight, like the rest of the nights from here to October, is about us people who actually like baseball--the whole thing, not just the highlights and not just in person.

The ups and downs of a 162 game season make it somewhat of a grind, and there's no doubting the massive drain on my free time that comes with the warm weather of spring. It's a long season and the Mets will probably make me miserable a few times between now and their eventual fourth-place finish. But after six months without them, I'm really just glad to be along for the ride.

So tonight, Mayor Bloomberg won't be in attendance. The ceremonial first pitch will be thrown not by a Mets legend but by some faceless corporate middle manager instead. The actual first pitch will be thrown by mediocre John Maine instead of superhuman Johan Santana. While Citi Field opened for business Monday, tonight is the first night of business as usual.