Middle finger an appropriate metaphor for Mets’ week from hell

Steven Matz ATLANTA — Generally speaking, I think the notion of jinxes is silly. Sure, I’ve had my fun with them, because they are wonderful writing devices and fans are always quick to look at the sky and shriek, “Why?!” when things go awry. That’s always easier than admitting your team stinks.

Generally speaking, I have always thought that Mets fans who claim to be the victims of a jinx, or a hex, or a pox, or a curse, are especially puerile. The Mets? In the history of baseball, you could argue, no team has benefitted more from fate than the Mets, in both 1969 and 1986, two of the greatest miracles in the sport’s history.

Hell, their nickname was the Miracle Mets.

I stand by all of that.

But…