(Side note: home plate ump Mark Wegner deserves points for using great restraint, because he could have easily chucked Reyes but didn't, perhaps knowing the Mets precarious situation.)
It all came together in a flash. All the losses. All the heartbreak. From this year, last year, and all the years prior. I don't need to list them all, you know them all by now, you know them all by heart. It all ... became ... one. And then, became nothing. These competitions don't matter anymore. I, my friends, am one with the higher truth ... that this team stinks.
And it's all right. Because when that base hit dribbled into right field to win the game for the Rockies, I simply laughed. And then I walked away. Things are so bad, they're actually good. I have reached Zen and I am cleansed.
My mind is truly at ease.
My spirit is truly at peace.
Understanding is indeed gained, for there is truly nothing left to comprehend.
Who can say that the realm of Tao is far from Willie Randolph?
How tranquil it is.
Like the beginning of Heaven ... and that little piece of Earth known as Coors Field.