Down near the very bottom of my t-shirt pile is this Mets shirt, which I picked up at Shea Stadium years ago by signing up with a fake name* for a free credit card. I didn't want or need another credit card, but a free t-shirt seemed like a good idea, rather than buying a souvenir. So I went and filled out an application with fictional information.
In retrospect, it's pretty ridiculous that obtaining this item was worth all the subterfuge (including memorizing a fictional address and social security number, so that when the attendant takes your completed application, you could recite it back). I don't even like the Mets, and I wasn't all that fond of Shea (any of the four or five times I visited (though I do have this very strange photo from the Shea stands with one of my ex-girlfriends from college, years after we broke up and post-graduation; one of my college roommates is also in the shot (with quite a sweet white man's 'fro, I might add), and today I have no idea why I ended up at this game with this particular ex).
That said, using the same methods of credit card application misdirection, I also procured a Phillies beach towel that I keep in my trunk. It comes in handy sometimes.
But that's not the point here--the point is, in this death spiral of a 2011 season, the time has come for desperate measures. If the Dodgers can pull out a win today and not get swept by this sucky Mets team, I will take this shirt and cut it in half, right down the center, and put it in our pile of rags, destined to dust bookcases and mop up spills for the rest of its frayed days. If the Mets win, I'll return it to the t-shirt pile in my closet, where it probably will still never be worn, but may at least distract any moths from eating any of the t-shirts I really like. (Until the July 4-7 series, that is.)
(*) Not "Steve Sax," fwiw.