Hate:
v., hat·ed, hat·ing, hates.
v.tr.
1. a) To feel hostility or animosity toward.
b) To detest.

I hate the New York Mets.
I do. I feel hostility towards them. I feel animosity towards them. I detest them. I hate them.
They are in the midst of the greatest collapse in baseball history. Three weeks ago they were seven games ahead of any other team. Today they are losing 7-1 in the second inning of a game which, unless they win, will cement that greatest collapse because they will miss the playoffs. I hate the New York Mets.
I have followed them with varying intensity since childhood. And since childhood – save for a single year, 1986 – sorry Red Sox fans – they have disappointed me. You name the year, I can name the disappointment.
How bad has it gotten? It has gotten so bad that a Red Sox fan emailed me this week suggesting I root for the Red Sox. The Red Sox! A team so notorious for its failures that movies have been made about them.
Now I realize that I am not being rational. I realize that, at some part of my soul, I don’t hate them but love them and am just deeply disappointed by them and that is leading me to these intense feelings of hate. I’ve thought about that in the past.
However, perhaps I have been wrong all of these years and I really do hate them. I can’t write anymore, I need to go watch the rest of the game. Maybe they’ll win. Wouldn’t that be great?