I was nine years-old when Carlos Beltran took an Adam Wainwright curveball right down the middle to end the New York Mets’ magical postseason run. I was in tears that night knowing we had been one game away from the World Series.

But alas, not only did that 2006 Mets team not make it to the World Series, but they haven’t even come close to the playoffs since. From that point on, the Mets have had a win-loss record of 630-666. A couple of late-season collapses followed by six years of losing records have left me emotionally bruised but not quite broken.

Year after year, when the snow melts in February and a new season is mere weeks away, I still feel an odd sense of optimism for some reason. It may be that on Opening Day, the New York Mets are still undefeated.  But, really, my optimism stems from more than just the numbers.

I was raised in a household that bleeds blue and orange, so much so that I use the term “we” when I refer to the Mets. I can’t bear but feel a twinge of optimism when the season begins because even though we always play second fiddle to the evil team in pinstripes from the Bronx, well, in the words of former Mets lefty pitcher Tug McGraw, “Ya gotta believe!”

And this year of all years, I not only believe, but I’m confident.

With only some bias, I think we’ve got a chance to get out of the cellar of the MLB like so many years past. With All-Star pitcher Matt Harvey returning from elbow reconstruction surgery to join a formidable rotation, I have hope that the 2015 New York Mets might actually resemble a respectable professional baseball team.

Now with our luck, it wouldn’t surprise me to hear tomorrow that third baseman David Wright blew out his knee, or that we’ve decided to trade away all of our players for “cash considerations.” But it’s with my fingers crossed and my royal blue Mets cap snugly on my head that I sit through the blizzards of winter, eagerly waiting for Opening Day and the ensuing success of my New York Mets.