On Wednesday night, Mr. Met was caught on video at the lowest point in his mascot life. The anguish of a 7-1 loss paired with fans yelling at him caused the normally jovial baseball-headed man to flip people off in the stands.
@Mets pic.twitter.com/tYuSIp8gCG— Tony T (@adelucia35) June 1, 2017
The video tagged the Mets purposefully to narc on the mascot, and as a result, the team felt the need to issue the following statement:
Statement from the New York Mets. pic.twitter.com/bRVvqZoqg8— New York Mets (@Mets) June 1, 2017
This is unfair. Mr. Met didn’t fail the Mets, the world failed Mr. Met. He is the tragic figure of the mascot world, a desperate Willy Loman looking for purpose. For too long he’s been ignored, downtrodden, and mocked. Society pushed him to his breaking point, then twisted the knife by filming the one moment in his mascot life he wants to forget.
To understand why Mr. Met lost his cool is a lesson in Mr. Met himself — and his story deserves to be told.
50 years of stitches.
When I was 7 years old, a kid hit me in the head with a rock at a tennis court requiring five stitches. For two weeks I suffered the physical and emotional pain of that moment. Mr. Met has endured having stitches in his head for over 50 years, and has always been expected to have a smile on his face.
This kind of poise is unprecedented among stitch-headed people in history.
Mr. Met has every right to be furious about the monster he is and the world he was born into, and yet he’s there every day, doing his best and trying to be happy. He’s asked to dress like a player, and never gets to play the game. The team has never found a hat that fits him correctly, undoubtedly leading to nasty sunburn — and he’s always smiling.
An unequal relationship.
It has become baseball canon that Mr. and Mrs. Met are in a loving, committed, open relationship. In 2014 this became known when Royals’ mascot, Sluggerrr, revealed that he was one of Mrs. Met’s sexual conquests.
Hey @MrMet welcome to Twitter! BTW, can you ask Mrs. Met why she won't call me back? pic.twitter.com/MnKEbagKLQ— Sluggerrr (@Sluggerrr) March 10, 2014
It doesn’t stop here. Mascots around baseball have made it their duty to let Mr. Met know whenever they sleep with his wife.
. @Sluggerrr so you're the one Mrs. Met told me about. #stalker @MrMet pic.twitter.com/d1eoAz2OEu— Southpaw (@Southpaw) March 11, 2014
.@MrMet @Sluggerrr @Southpaw Interesting...that's not what #MrsMet whispered to me❤️ pic.twitter.com/igqGrQzwlX— Slider (@SliderTheMascot) March 11, 2014
Obviously this is fine. The Mets are in agreement that pursuing their own sexual desires is fair game. However, there is no evidence Mr. Met has ever been propositioned by anyone. Half of baseball is interested in Mrs. Met, while he wastes away on Citi Field unsatisfied.
When this is paired with endless abuse on social media by mascots rubbing their carnal desires in his face, well, it’s enough to drive anyone to their breaking point.
The gentrification of Queens.
Not sure how this plays into Mr. Met flipping off a fan, but it probably does.
Mr. Met has been on the verge of tears for decades.
This is perhaps the most startling realization of looking at Mr. Met. At first glance you see a happy baseball man. But when you stare closer, you realize something is off.
Subtle changes happen to a facial expression when you cry. Muscles around the eyes tighten up, which in turn helps contract the tear ducts. Looking at Mr. Mets’ eyes, we can see that this facial tightening is in a permanent state. His pupils are dilated, his eyes are mid-contraction. This is a man who is ready to cry at any moment — and he’s been this way for years.
Nobody ever asks Mr. Met how he’s doing, or is just willing to listen to him. Instead he suffers alone, in silence, for all the world to see.
Knowing these factors, it’s understandable why Mr. Met snapped on Wednesday. He’s endured so much over the years, and for what? Some chuckleheads to mock him after a losing game? His head is full of stitches, he’s always about to cry, his sex life is unfulfilling, and he’s watching Queens change around him.
Instead of slamming Mr. Met for flipping off some fans, we should instead just be asking “Are you OK, Mr. Met?”