Bart Giamatti never warned me about those things. Thus, I still watch this stupid game. And I witness things like Mike Pelfrey, like a bolt from the blue, pitch eight brilliant innings (yes, Mike Pelfrey) ... only to watch Country Time come into the ninth and blow it. But not just any blown save, a blown save where the pitch before the game tying three run home run actually hits Mark Reynolds in the toe, clearly shown on replay, yet the home plate ump looked for shoe polish and saw none, and allowed Reynolds to continue his at-bat. Of course, and as I suspected would happen, Reynolds took the next pitch and smacked it towards the back of the picnic area to tie the game while the Mets had them down to the last strike.
It's a game designed to put you in a rubber room.
So even as the Mets came back and won it on a stirring walk-off home run by Carlos Beltran in the 13th, somehow this still feels like a loss. The Mets used to have a way of making losses feel like wins for whatever reason. Now, they win on a walk-off home run in the 13th and all I can think about is how the bullpen is now unnecessarily gassed for Thursday's afternoon game, and that David Wright should have hit one of the five strikes he saw from Edgar Gonzalez in the 13th inning in play and not foul. Maybe I'm only thinking that way to keep myself from writing some dribble about "this is the win that will get our team going", and then going and shouting it from the rooftops in my underwear while offering my Mike Piazza bobblehead as a sacrifice to the baseball gods. But that's how I'm thinking.
It's a game designed to make you use plastic bags as toys.
And of course, I'm also thinking about how Moises Alou can't stay healthy for nine innings, and how his latest calf injury has reduced him to a bumbling mess:
"I'm embarrassed to walk in here and look at my teammates with what they're going through right now," Alou said. "I wish I could stand here talking about getting a game-winning hit instead of, 'I'm hurt, I'm hurt, I'm hurt.'Shakespeare once said that "the fault lies not in our stars but in ourselves". Moises, you're a star ... hence it's not your fault. Your star is simply fading. Dude ... you're 41. These things happen to 41 -year -old ballplayers. So the fault lies not in our stars, but in our general managers for realistically expecting 41-year-olds to play 130 games.
"It's the story of my life. It's not what I want to talk about, it's not what the fans want to hear."
It's a game designed to tighten your calf during rain delays.
Thanks for the advance warning, Bart.
But on the bright side, looks like the whole punctuality thing will not be an issue anymore for our friend, Fluff Castro.