I'm not a fan of 4/1 in any way, shape, or form. I actually avoid the internet once things really get rolling. However, I remember sitting in Coach Beckham's World Geography class when I was in 9th grade and somebody brought in the new issue of Sports Illustrated containing this article about a Mets pitching prospect named Sidd Finch. We must've all read it a dozen times each. It kept floating back and forth around the room. I don't remember who first figured out that the first letter of each word in the header spelled "Happy April Fool's Day" but someone did.
For a lifelong fan of the NY Mets, this just seemed like one more cruelty to crush our spirits. Things have never really gotten better, either. Sure, there was 1986 and a few other great seasons, but there were also more terrible, hopeless seasons than good. Sure, there were great players like "Doc" Gooden, Darryl Strawberry, and others, but look how they ended their time with the Mets. Sure, we now have our no-hitter, but look at the case of Johan Santana. Being a Met fan means you can't have nice things.
Still, my parents and older brother raised me as a fan of the Amazin's and that is my lot in life. I can't change it. I tried to root for the Yankees once in the late 70's, but it was like putting on somebody else's shoes. I just ended up with athlete's foot and blisters.
Being a Met fan means always waiting for things to get better, but always knowing that Murphy's Law (not Daniel, some other guy) governs the universe. Still, as Tug said, "Ya gotta believe." So here we are, still waiting for Sidd Finch to come save us, to redeem us once and for all.