OK, at Shea it was in the right-field home-run territory in the Loge section. Not only were the blue seats the lowest you could easily sneak into with an upper-deck ticket, but I appreciated the perspective that amount of height provided. Higher up at Shea was kind of, well, high up.

The Loge was perfect. Plus in those right-field seats, you could reasonably hope a lefty would pull a home run your way, or lean over the rail and banter with John Franco. And they provided quick access to the closest thing Shea offered to Citi’s center-field dining concourse area, the ol’ right-field food court down the ramp. The only problem was you couldn’t see much of the main scoreboard from that angle.

But I had a long time and a lot of games at Shea to formulate that opinion, and I’m not sure I’m ready to commit to one location at Citi yet.

Sometimes when I want a break from my computer screen and the airport-lounge ambience of the press box, I grab a seat along the third-base line in the Excelsior level for a few innings. It’s a good angle and a good height for seeing the whole field. For now I’d say it’s there.

Last I checked the Mets still have like a 1 in 200 shot of making the playoffs this year, so you don’t really have to wait if you’re into unrealistic hopes. But if you’re talking slightly more realistic unrealistic World Series hopes, give it six months.

There’s no doubt the Mets’ front office has a lot of work to do this offseason, and it’d be foolish to assume all the things that went right for the club in 2011 go the same way in 2012. But a bunch of things went wrong for these Mets too, and it’s crazy to go writing off next season for a team that is to date above .500, features a bunch of decent to excellent players on the short side of 30, and boasts (and will continue to boast) one of the largest payrolls in the Majors.

Good teams can come together quickly, and if a bunch of things fall right for the Mets in 2012 they could certainly contend. Is it likely they’ll make the World Series? Hell no. But it’s not likely any team will make the World Series.

I promise come mid-March the optimists among us will all be looking at a glass half-overflowing, envisioning the ways in which the old-ass Phillies will certainly relinquish their stranglehold on the division and the Braves’ entire crop of promising young arms will turn to crap.

A couple of things: First, I’m not really qualified to comment on the general clubhouse attitude. Like some 90% of credentialed media covering the Mets, I do not travel with the team. I get out to cover maybe a third of their home games, meaning nearly all of my access to the players comes in the Citi Field clubhouse. And the facilities at Citi Field are expansive enough that it’s rare there are many players in the locker-room area at the same time.

Someone covering the team beat might be better suited to measure the clubhouse attitude, though beat writers, like all of us, are subject to biases. Anyone just covering home games able to speak with authority about team chemistry is either wildly speculating or a much better journalist than I am. Either scenario seems likely.

Anyway, the most important thing is I’m not sure any of it matters. When Ruben Tejada came up last night in the bottom of the eighth, was he thinking “I need to get on so we can make the playoffs,” or “I need to get on so I can start next year,” or simply, “I need to get on”? I’d guess the latter. As discussed here, it’s often difficult (and pointless) to distinguish selfishness from effort in baseball. In other words, I can’t say exactly why they’re trying to win, but I can say with some confidence that they’re trying very hard to win.