Knowing What's Good

Don't ask me to cite the exact television show...but there was once a comic who was trying to land a gig...and the executive who the comic is trying to impress isn't laughing one bit. Not once. But after the set, the executive tells the comic how funny he was. The comic then asks: "Well why didn't you laugh?" The executive then explains that he's heard so many stand-up acts in his life, that there's nothing left that can physically make him laugh.

But he knows what's funny.

I'm kind of the same way in the respect that, I've seen so much baseball, I know a good play when I see one. There's no need to emote. I can get it to the point...especially when I'm at home and I don't want to tick off any of the neighbors or wake up my wife...where all I need is a fist pump. That's it.

Then I saw David Wright's double play in the ninth.

If you were anywhere in the vicinity of the outer boroughs at about 10:40, that "Oh My Lord!" you heard was your good friend Metstradamus. I guess I have to work on keeping my emotions in check for the good of the neighborhood.

Don't get me wrong; there's plenty to be worried about after this game between Tom Glavine's second yucko start in a row, to Aaron Heilman's continued struggling with a five run lead, to some missed chances by the lineup to turn a comfortable lead into a ridiculous lead, to the new summer hit which debuted during the ninth inning: "Honey I Shrunk Billy Wagner's Velocity". But David Wright's spectacular, Brooks Robinson like double play (off the bat of Pat Burrell, it should be noted...loudly) made sure that even with all of that, the Mets lead over the Phillies grew to seven and a half games. It may be only June, but this is a lead that's quickly becoming safe enough for even Charlie Dressen to hold on to.

How good was that double play? If not for that play, I'm making Billy Wagner jokes. Or at the very least, I'm talking about Jose Reyes' mad dash for home plate from second base on a ball that scooted ten feet out of Sal Fasano's way (an amazing play in it's own right, but now in the shadow of David Wright).

And I will only say one thing: If the Mets indeed own this city now, as all three area tabloids claimed on Tuesday morning, then all three area tabloids had better see fit to dominate their back pages with the new owners of the city on Wednesday morning. There had better not be one picture of Chien-Ming Junipero Wang or Robinson Cano that's larger than one square inch in the Post or the News when I wake up. (I'm not worried about the paper known in some circles as Metsday.)

Or you'll hear from me again.

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Cursed Tiki Idol update: The Mets might have ended Russ Ortiz's career by scoring a million runs off of him on Sunday.

(And before you get any grand ideas, you can't fix him Rick...not in ten minutes...not in ten days...not in ten light years...not ever. Don't even think about it. There's pitching depth, and then there's the depths of hell. Recognize the difference.)

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And speaking of careers careening out of control, this is the funniest thing I've read in months...I'm still laughing! I wish I was as funny as Armando Benitez. He should take that act on the road.