It’s the middle of September, and both New York Baseball teams are leading their divisions, so as you might expect the words falling the most frequently from New Yorker’s lips are:

“Come on and clinch already!”

Or else:

“Did you catch the Giants game last night? God-fucking-damn-it that was sweet!”

Despite the Mets being about to win their first division in nearly twenty years and the Yankees putting a bow on a near decade of dominance in the AL East, the baseball buzz is surprisingly subdued.

It doesn’t help that the Mets have missed three chances to clinch their division against Pittsburg, for Christ sake.

It doesn’t help that the Yanks dropped three to the Red Sox this weekend. (Keep in mind the Red Sox Nation’s only chance to see a post-season this year is if everyone in America wearing a Boston cap chants, in unison, “I do believe in fairies.”)

Usually this time of year, the piss and vinegar starts flying, but big leads, disappointing play, and the babble-fest of fantasy football seem to be keeping everyone quiet on the subject of Baseball. I always thought of New York as a baseball town, but this year, even when the stars seem aligned for a Subway Series, the silence makes me wonder.

I actually went to a bar on Friday when Pedro was supposed to lock things up for the Mets. He didn’t, and despite the NY1’s collection of cameras begging us all to get jazzed, the chants were pretty sparse throughout the night.

On Saturday, I had the bright idea of getting tickets to both games of the double header. By the end of the loss in the day-game my skin had a lovely red tinge burned in, and I was officially burned out. Even after the second game, the one the yanks took home, the walk down the ramps that’s usually punctuated by “Boston Sucks!” and “Fuck Big Papi” was quiet. Just one Yankee fan tittering to another.

I’ve got a couple rain day tickets left over from a game a couple months back. The Mets have a chance to clinch tonight with a win on their home field. After years of abdicating the crown in the National League East to the Braves for so, so, so long, you’d think the fans would be rolling out to Shea with streamers in their hands. You’d think I’d be running there…but I’m honestly not sure if I even feel like going.

I’m burned out.

But I wonder. Is the city burned out with me, or are the five boroughs just over baseball in general. When we’ve got a hangover, and that damn sun won’t go the fuck away, we all don one of the caps, but do we really care any more?

Spoiled New Yorkers with their yearly trip to the playoffs. We’ll hear about it soon enough. Just as soon as October hits, and everyone who’s barely seen a game all year dusts off their jersey.

Maybe I will go to Shea. Just to say I was there.