I had a different post planned tonight.

I promise you, I did. It was really nice. It was all about listening to the radio after I was supposed to be asleep as a nine year old, and the necessity of letting go and accepting the past, and moving along as times – and teams – change.

I’m writing this one instead.

This series – this whole goddamned series – was just too much – however you look at it – not to be sent off, by me, with a personal touch. I had several messages to deliver over the course of the series, and if not now then never, so I figure, why not.

To Terry Collins: I wish I hadn’t predicted that your bullpen management would cost us the postseason way back in August, but there’s a silver lining: my friend who disagreed with me was wrong, and I was right. Logan said to me, and here I quote directly, “Terry’s management style is just letting Harvey pitch a complete game.” Unfortunately prophetic.

To Kevin Long: I get that our offense improved this year, but do you have any drills to cure streakiness?

To Yoenis Cespedes: You were fun for a few weeks, but no longer. I shouted that you were a bum about twenty times during this series – roughly the same amount of times you struck out on fastballs up and in – and as a major league baseball player angling for a six figure contract, you’d think that you’d work to fix that, but hey, you do you. I hope you’re priced out of the Mets range, because no offense, but I’d like never to see you in Queens again, even as an opponent, because if you do come back as an opponent, I’ve watched the Mets enough to know how that turns out: you hit a three run homer in the top of the ninth, then rob a home run for your team in the bottom to end the game. So thanks, Yo, but you really ended up a bum.

To Michael Conforto, Matt Harvey, Steven Matz, Jacob deGrom, Juan Lagares, Jon Niese, Bartolo Colon, and Noah Syndergaard: you could not have done more. I’m so proud to have you guys on the team going forward, besides Colón, unfortunately, and I’m looking forward to greatness in the future. I’ve got a good feeling about this group: let’s make it work.

To Lucas Duda: I shouldn’t be the one pushing Kevin Long for the streakiness cure. That should be you. I understand that some hitters are streaky, but when you hit 20 home runs in eighteen days and seven the rest of the year, or whatever it was, you need help. Plus, you weren’t much help in the postseason, not to point fingers.

To Daniel Murphy: Murph, I want you back. It doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen, but who knows: maybe those last few errors brought you back to our price range. If you leave, however, I’ll remember your Mets tenure fondly, and I sincerely apologize for the boos you’ll get when you come back to Citi Field. This is absolutely sincere, by the way: Daniel Murphy is one of my favorite Mets, and I think they’re crazy not to bring him back.

To Addison Reed: for some reason, watching your motion fills me with confidence, even if it’s not always founded on anything concrete. Maybe you’ll be back. I hope so, because we need bullpen help like Chris Christie needs SlimFast.

To Tyler Clippard: It’s unfortunate that you will go down in history as one of the most forgettable Mets of all time. Go pitch for the Astros or wherever, and if you’re ever pitching against us, don’t forget that you owe us more than a few games.

To Kelly Johnson and Juan Uribe: honestly, you guys made this season for me, more than anything else. Bringing in two guys who were professional hitters – honestly, you’d do Danny Heep proud – made me believe, for the first time, that maybe we were on to something. One or both of you may be back, but thanks for the memories.

To Jeurys Familia: the Mets sincerely apologize for crediting you with two blown saves despite recording four infield ground balls. Keep it up, because good gracious we need you in the pen.

To Curtis Granderson: You’re the real MVP, or at least the real reassuringly solid player. Keep it up, please, because with someone like that at the top of the lineup, anything can happen.

To the MLB on FOX broadcast crew: Please never speak again. Staple your mouths shut if possible. I haven’t heard such idiotic blabbering nonsense since the last Republican Debate. Sincerely, literally the entire world, including Joe Buck’s wife.

To the media at large: let’s call this one like it was. The Royals played well. They were not greek gods of making contact; they did not hammer us with a barrage of line drives from which we shied away in terror; they did not run us down in a tornado of relentlessness. I’m sorry, but the Royals got lucky, and that’s all there is to it. Call it whatever you want: when you score the tying run on a soft ground ball two days in a row, being relentless doesn’t have anything to do with it.

To the people who were in my room until I kicked them out: I probably overreacted, but all the same, I still think it might have been your fault.

To the Yankees and their fans: I envy you, because you’ve been relaxing at home all this time, and I’ve been stressing out over my team playing in the World Series. Sucks to suck, and sucks to continue to suck because your team is not going to stop aging, if you know what I mean.

To Sandy Alderson: thanks, and all. Can we not have another six-season gap before our next winning season?

To the Wilpons: don’t think one good year means you can slack off.

Finally, to David Wright, Howie Rose, and Gary Cohen: you’re all in the same boat here – waiting longer than anyone else for a championship. We’ll get one some day – next year, if the Royals’ success is any indication – and I’ll be proud to call you my captain and broadcasters when that does happen.

For the final time, from Citi Field, your 2015 New York Mets.