Just So Many Summers, Babe

There're just so many summers, babe. And just so many springs. Don Henley's lyrics came to me early in the 1993 season. Too early. 1993 wasn't, sadly, the last worthless season that we'd have to spend, but damn if it wasn't over fast. The Mets were 12-25 after 37 games, 15 behind the 1st place Phillies, with the Wild Card a year from existence. The season loomed as worthless because the season loomed as over. The looming was correct. 1993 contained no hint of competitiveness hidden away as a nice surprise for later. When the '93 Mets limped to the halfway point of their schedule, they were 25-56, 28½ from the top of their division. They would finish 59-103, an accurate 38 games out. They were an undisputed 7th place club the only year a National League East club could be a 7th place club. The Mets had been a 10th place club when that option was available, a 6th place club when 6th place represented bottom and, once realignment kicked in, they would find...