What, Me Worry? The Code Only Knows

I was starting to think it was me.

"Good God man, what have you done??!! You've released the genie from the bottle. For Matsui-san I predict errors a-plenty, pathetic waves at curveballs, baserunning blunders and another injury. I see the showers and toilets backing up at Shea, emergency landings at LGA, unusual tides in Flushing Bay, and when they break ground for the new stadium the construction gang will unearth and disturb some ancient Indian burial ground for unlucky and cursed members of the Iroquois nation...Blaspheme no more Metstradamus! You are tempting the fates!" -The Metmaster on May 2nd, after I put the whammy on Kazuo Matsui

Silly, right? I mean, Kaz has still only made one error since my proclamation, and the Mets have a winning record since then, right? It can't be me.

Right?

"See, I told you! The rotation is in shambles, they've lost five of the last six games, the umpires are blowing calls left and right against the Mets, the two pitchers acquired for Victor Zambrano have Tommy John surgery...it's all coming to pass! You've doomed us with your prophecies! Are you happy now?" -Metmaster on Monday.

Could I have unwittingly unlocked "The D'Amico Code"?

Why does everyone blame me? Just because I'm 0-4 at Mets playoff games (hey, who isn't?) Because I dare speak prophecy (hey, who doesn't?) Because Jeromy Burnitz drives in four runs the very day I wear my Jeromy Burnitz gray Mets t-shirt (hey, who doesn't own a Jeromy Burnitz t-shirt?) Because Gary Bennett threatens to go Pat Burrell on us (hey...who's Gary Bennett?)

I have to admit, the conspiracies that have abounded since Metmaster's harbinger of doom have been as plain as the frog in Keith Hernandez's throat. I even heard a rumor, after the Yankees were down 9-0 tonight, that Jerome from Manhattan was becoming a Met fan!

So Dark the Con of Angel Hernandez.

But tonight, as Paul Lo Duca got himself yet another big hit, Jose Reyes sets up the game winning run with a walk and a steal, supposed gold glover Albert Pujols was a bit indecisive on a ground ball allowing four runs to score in the eighth (are we going to find a way to blame that on A.D.D. too?), then slipped and conked his head on the on-deck circle thanks to the long rain delay, I felt the tides turn. I feel that things are finally getting right with the world. The Mets are back on track, slaying the team that we were all panicking over coming in. The jinx has left to gestate somewhere else. I can come out of my house again.

This team, is clean.