Here we go:

Cold. I know people have strong opinions on this, but for a lobster roll I prefer lobster salad — the mayonnaisey kind. I think I’m not the best judge of lobster, though, because I am scarred in all sorts of ways from working a couple of summers in a wholesale/retail lobster market. Part of that job entailed dumping crates of lobsters into huge vats of boiling water, maybe 200 at a time, and I think hot lobster evokes more of the odd guilt that arises when I consider how many crustaceans I’ve massacred.

Also, I may have shared this before but I can’t remember: Working at a giant lobster market seems like a fun and funny summer job, but it is harder than you could even imagine to get the smell off you. I used to come home and shower with four different soaps and really scrub myself down. I remember one night I was going to the movies with a girl I liked, so I did absolutely everything I could to eradicate the stench of hot lobster and fish from my body. I’m talking showering for like a half hour, deodorant, a little cologne, everything. And then, putting popcorn into my mouth, I smelled it on my hands. Awful. I reeked all summer.

So my relationship with lobster is kind of complicated, I guess.

Too many to count. I think people assume that because I tend to be patient and perhaps a bit reflective on this blog that I’m the same way in real life, and it’s really not the case. I get fired up pretty easily, and when the Mets are losing most of my workdays begin with a several-minute-long profanity-laced rant to anyone who will even pretend to listen about things the Mets did the previous night. If someone comes and interrupts me I usually challenge him to a fight. It’s really only once I get that all out that I can take a breath, think things over and write mild-mannered posts about how there’s no way the Mets really suck this much.

Man, you’re asking the wrong guy. I’ve been to a Peoria Chiefs game in 105-degree heat, I’ve driven 200-plus miles to go see games at RFK Stadium, I went to Olympic Stadium in its last miserable days. The only justification I’ve ever needed to buy a ticket for a baseball game is that there’s a baseball game. Baseball is the thing I save up money for.

Of course, I realize I’m something of an outlier, and it’s easy for me to say now that I have a press pass that gets me in free. Obviously Mets fans have plenty of good reasons for not showing up lately: The economy stinks, just about every aspect of going to a game is pretty expensive, the weather has been bad. But mostly, I suspect, it’s the team.

The Mets are coming off two losing seasons and two miserable finishes before that. It’s a huge market and there are plenty of people, I suspect, who would shoulder the financial lode and pony up cash for tickets if they thought the team had a better-than-even-money chance of winning. It’s going to take time and a lot of wins for them to convince the masses that they do.