My name is Conor and I'm a Met fan.  You came into my life in 2005 and were a real staple for six years.  As you've probably heard, you're a San Francisco Giant now.  For the first time since my college years and my grizzly hairdos, I won't be going to the ballpark expecting #15 to anchor the middle of the Amazin's lineup.

I will begin by telling you things you know all-too-well by now.  First off, this town can be a real female-dog sometimes.  By inking your name on that $119 million piece of paper in the offseason of '05, you knew what you were in for.  You also had a real tough act to follow, as some guy named Piazza was your big-contract predecessor and took this franchise to unbelievable heights.  Every fan heard you were a quiet guy.  But with a payday like that, you'd better make some noise on the field.

I don't want to rehash all the good and bad that went with your career in New York.  I just want to say that there are plenty of fans out there that remember you for a whole lot more than that one fateful at bat in 2006.  Sure, Yankee fans love to celebrate it.  Your detractors point to it as a reason you're not a 'winning player.'  At the end of the day, you struck out in a big spot.  A very big spot.  It's happened to Pujols.  It's happened to A-Rod.  Heck, it even happened to Casey at the Bat!

No Carlos, I choose to remember you as a prime reason the Mets were in that spot to begin with.  In 23 years on this Earth, 2006 was probably the greatest season I've had.  You weren't the reason the Mets lost game 7.  You were the prime reason they reached such a plateau in the first place.  In 2006, Reyes and Pedro were the spirit of the team.  Delgado was the muscle.  Wright was the heart.  But you were the soul, Carlos.  You were the life force that may not have always been obvious or tangible...but it could not be denied, either.

And since that night at Shea, it's been a pretty miserable time for the franchise.  In 2007 and 2008, nobody cares to remember that you were carrying the entire lineup by yourself in trying to avoid collapses.  This is understandable...fans aren't going to pull the positives out of impossibly-heartbreaking situations.  And injuries along with the new ballpark seemed to throw you off a little bit in the last couple of years.

So you leave this town with far more scrutiny than you ever deserved.  I'm real glad you put together such an effective 2011 before being traded.  You proved to still be an elite hitter, a capable fielder, and-yes-a clutch player.  One at-bat five years ago doesn't change that.  So I wish you the best on your way.  Back in 2006, it was time for me to move on from Jay Payton and get a new Mets jersey to wear to the ballpark.  Reyes was available.  Wright too.  As was Delgado.  But I knew I wanted #15.  Even though you were the best, highest-paid player on the team, I seemed to be in the minority.  But not a day goes by that I regret my selection.  

So best of luck with the Giants.  And I hope you took to heart more praise than scrutiny on your way out.  The Mets may not have climbed to the tippy-top of the mountain with you here, but they got real damn close.  And you can keep your head held high that you were an enormous part of that.