Matt Harvey: The Dark Knight of Gotham Will Rise

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The Dark Knight Rises (2012)
People of Gotham, have you lost your Vulcan minds? Mets fans, have you been infiltrated by front-runners who switch their allegiance as casually as they transfer from the 4-train to the 7-train? Have we collectively sunk into deep despair as we watch the villains pillage our city in the absence of its protector?

Indeed, we have.

We've seen the movie before. It was released in 2012, the very same year Matt Harvey first took the mound in Gotham Citi Field and gave the few who still believed, hope. He put the franchise on his shoulders and was invincible. He wrestled headlines and models away from the Yankees Captain and brought back a swagger reminiscent of his Hall of Fame predecessors Tom Seaver and Mike Piazza. He walked the tightrope and he did backflips on it with the snap of his cape before disappearing into the shadows to await the next arrival of would-be assassins from DC, Philly and The Bronx. If he let up just one run, the fat lady would sing in her operatic voice.

How many games have we watched where Matt Harvey was brilliant while his teammates flailed at the plate, unable to scratch out a base runner, let alone a run. As if the lack of offense wasn't enough, his teammates would crack under the pressure of a routine pop fly, a tailor-made double-play ground ball or a Little League throw from first place to home plate. Did he complain? No. He simply asked for the ball and another chance to take the hill and carry the gigantic load his teammates, his franchise and his city placed upon him.

Now, Atlas, it's time to shrug.

Matt Harvey of the New York Mets
The booing after the debacle against Washington and the swelling negativity from the Mets in their own broadcast booth has reached a fever pitch. Like the movie, the hero has become the villain and the city has turned its back on him. The chorus of boos bleeds into anarchy until the hero vanishes and begins to question himself and his ability. He retreats to the cave while the larger-than-life image thrust upon him is incinerated in the streets amidst mayhem and lawlessness. He wrestles with his own self doubt until he stares at himself in the mirror unvarnished. Then, like the Phoenix, he rises from the ashes with a fury, stronger, more powerful than ever before to save his city from itself.

Among the boos and the naysayers you'll find the You Gotta Believers. They'll be wearing a mustard splattered jersey with the top two buttons undone and the number 33 on their backs. They will gather behind their leader with the indomitable knowledge that giving him the ball when he extends his right hand is the same as Commissioner Gordon climbing to the top of police headquarters to send his signal over Gotham.