The Mets Begin, Gottman-Style

So, as many of you know, I now work at The Gottman Institute as their content manager. And at TGI, we have a motto, which is 5:1, or five positive interactions for every negative interaction. Dr. John Gottman, through 40 years of research, found that people in committed relationships need to hit that ratio in order to have a positive and successful relationship into the future.

He did it with data and science. It’s no joke. It’s a fact.

Well, I’m in a committed relationship with the New York Mets, as of today, we are doing just that. We’re 5-1 and in first place in the National League East. And we just beat our rivals, the Washington Nationals, to take the lead. Kid Conforto showed back up in the lineup a couple weeks ahead of time and got two RBI, and Bruce hit a grand slam to push the game beyond contention.

I’m no therapist, nor am I a baseball analyst. But I can tell that this kind of ratio, while unsustainable across a baseball season of 162 games, is a great start.

And we even have a new team mantra, or sign, or handshake. I don’t even know what it is, but suddenly, after every good play, all of the Mets make a pepper grinder motion with their hands.

The grind of 162 games. The seasoning it takes to make a lineup with some pop. And the grit it takes to play this game like it’s meant to be played.

And the 2018 New York Mets are surely hitting the ground running, pumping on all cylinders, full speed ahead, pick your cliche, I don’t care because my team, at least right now, is playing some wicked good baseball.

Grandy Man

Mets 6, Braves 3. Curtis Granderson smacked a solo homer and a grand slam to put us far over the top. Even the Braves’ late game rally couldn’t surmount the Grandy Man’s RBIs.


 

The Ballglove

 

Cut from steerhide and stitched together

with catgut laces and horse-hoof glue,

oiled and tied shut and baked in an oven

to shape the pocket, then beaten with a mallet,

a stick, a bat, fastball after fastball,

and the pocket stretches and deepens

where the ball snaps the mitt shut,

caught in the webbing between fingers and thumb,

the crosshatch of fine tanned leather

that learns your muscle memory, the way

your hand reaches mid-dive for a line drive

and how the leather, now a part of you,

snatches the ball out of the air, robs the hitter.