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My son is 13 too. He also loves the Mets. He elates when they win and curses (in a non profane, 13 year old adorable fashion) when they lose or when they suffer injuries. And he's taken some shit, in little league (when he was wearing a bright compression sleeve like Yo only to get ribbed for it), and probably at school. He wore his Cespedes shirt today. The Mets swag is in regular rotation, regardless of the team's record. He does it because it's part of who he is. He's a Mets fan.
Having said that, it's easier, up in the 'Cuse, than I suspect it is in the boroughs. It's just less prevalent here. There are Mets and Yankee fans, his age and mine, but it all takes a backseat to other sports, Syracuse basketball, Bills football, local minor league hockey and baseball, etc. I'd say there are more MFY fans than Mets fans up here but we've closed the gap with the 2015-2016 successes, plus the impending arrival of the Syracuse Mets AAA ballclub.
Here's the thing, though. It's not about how much more likely some other team's fans are to get to experience the joy of being champions. It's about the bond you forge with your child over baseball, rooting for the same team.
Your son, I am sure, wants to be like you. If you're doing it right, or, really, even if you're not. That's how they do it. He'll live and die with the Mets, same as Fboy, and you and me. He won't abandon his fandom if you don't.
And I'm not giving up mine.
Because it's the bond I shared with my dad, as a kid.
(My dad grew up a MFY fan, in the 1950s, but living in Flushing, he gravitated to the team after Shea opened (he was 19 in 1964) and gave up on the MFYs when the Steinbrenner era kicked in.)
We drove to Shea to watch games, first as a four person family with Fbro and Fmom, and then, once I was older, just he and I (as my mom and brother were never huge baseball fans). And he's gone now, and I can't talk about the Mets with him, so that is just a thing that I have in my heart, that I still think about. We went to our last game together at Shea, in 2006-2007 sometime.
And now my son and I go and repeat the process. We watch the games on TV. We drive 1-2 times per year to Flushing to see it live. Someday, Fboy will (Lord willing) be a father to Fgrandson and they will drive down to see the Dominic Smith Rotunda and count the rings on display, and he'll tell his son the stories about how his dad took him to Citi Field, and the time Mr. Met waved to him, and the time he got to try on a real deal World Series championship ring, and 30 other stories from his childhood, and the dream will perpetuate.
And you know what? They'll be 38-51 that year and it won't matter one damn bit.
Keep doing what you do.
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