The Sun Shines Through

(Editor's note: Please forgive the potential weather metaphors that are possible with this post.)

The weather read like it was going to be more conducive to ducks ... er, I mean ducks and kites with keys on the end of them, than it would have been for baseball. But as I searched for the cell phone number of my game companion today (more on who that is later on) to ask if he was still into making the trek for Cap Day, knowing that we could wind up turning around and going home without seeing any baseball, that's when the sun started to peek through.

The rain that was forecast for pretty much the whole day (and had me anticipating a day/night doubleheader tomorrow) instead stayed away long enough for the Mets to come up with a stirring 3-2 victory at Shea today. The game worked out just like the weather today: cloudy and stormy early (Pelfrey giving up a run right off the bat thanks to his own sub-par stuff, and Jose Reyes ' glove doing an impression of a skillet on a throw from Endy Chavez that would have had Matt Kemp out by ten feet ... instead kicking the ball away and letting a run score), stabilizing in the middle (Pelfrey giving up two runs in seven innings for an outing that was more more laborious than his line would indicate ... yet probably saved his job) and very sunny late.

(Cue dream sequence music)

This is now starting to get about time where I start getting nostalgic about Shea Stadium. The first game I went to was more like "hey, it's the first game at Shea for me this year" (and I had no real time to sit and be nostalgic that game since I was too busy getting pissed off at the no run support for Pelfrey and trying to catch t-shirts shot out of a cannon ... and yes, I got one that day), so this second game was the one where it started to kick in. I sat in the right field mezzanine today, right near the seats that I spent so much time in during the late 80's, early 90's ... and when Carlos Beltran was up in the eighth as the tying run, I started to get some Darryl Strawberry flashbacks.

Strawberry's stats tell you that in close and late situations, he stunk. So maybe it was the idiocy of youth, or maybe it was the lack of the Internet to look up his numbers on the Baseball Reference website. But every time Straw came up, I had that feeling that something good was going to happen ... he always had the ability to jack one off the scoreboard. If I wasn't longing for Straw's close and late numbers instead of Beltran's (not terrible for his career, but awful for '07 and '08), I certainly longed for that good feeling to come back ... not like the feeling I get when Beltran's up. Damn, why can't Beltran hit one off the scoreboard every once in a while and send Shea rockin' like we always knew Straw could. I mean, things aren't as good now as they were then and back when I was young I had to walk uphill to school in the snow without any shoes or socks and I still believed Darryl Strawberry could hit the scoreboard mere minutes after rolling out of bed and ...

(The fwack of Carlos Beltran's bat brings me back to reality and ends the dream sequence music)

Holy crap! He hit one off of Jonathan Broxton! We never hit that guy. And Carlos Beltran roughed him up!

Broxton, as you know, is as big as a forest ... never mind the tree. So when Fernando Tatis came up, and we know that Tatis sometimes comes up to the theme from Superman, it was like a comic book battle between The Man of Steel and The Incredible Hulk. And with a bouncer up the middle, Superman won.

(Editor's note: Apparently this was a battle that actually happened in an actual comic book ... and Superman won that one too.)

And with that (and a one-two-three inning from Country Time in the ninth), the game was over, and the sun went away, knowing it was now needed more somewhere else.

***

There's a big milestone that happened today that I want to acknowledge.

No, I'm not talking about Manny Ramirez's 500th home run. (Although, that's worth acknowledging too ... not only because Manny is Manny, but also a beast of a hitter who's going to the Hall of Fame ... but because it came off our old friend Chad Bradford. And since former Mets have been muscling in on some milestone hits lately, I fully expect Ken Griffey Jr. to hit home run number 600 on Sunday against Royce Ring.)

Saturday's Mets victory was the 200th regular season win witnessed by my companion today: blogging buddy Greg Prince over at Faith and Fear in Flushing (a blogfest if there ever was one, especially with Mark from Mets Walkoffs stopping by as well). He even mentioned Manny Ramirez to me today in terms of having been through four losses before getting this victory, just as Manny waited a decent amount of time for number 500. Certainly, as Manny is going to the Hall of Fame five years after he retires, Greg deserves a place in the Hall of Fans if there was one. I'm happy to have been the Chad Bradford to Greg's Manny Ramirez.

***

Weirdest jersey of the day: The guy who came to Shea today wearing the Don Mattingly jersey.

The Don Mattingly Dodgers jersey. The one with the number 8 on it.

Dude, you topped my Todd Zeile jersey.

Postcards From The Edge

Dear Aaron Heilman,

Drink lots of fluids in New Orleans. It's hot there this time of year.

-Metstradamus

Dear Willie Randolph,

Aaron Heilman's splits going into tonight read as such:

Bases empty: 2.65 ERA, 1.00 WHIP, .175 BAA
Runners on: 9.53 ERA, 2.12 WHIP, .370 BAA

And just for fun:

RISP w/2 outs: 21.60 ERA, 2.70 WHIP, .412 BAA

Why you would wait for a runner to reach base to bring Aaron Heilman in continues to be one of the great mysteries of my life. Sure, the runner should have never been on base because it was a bad call on the Pierre play. But dude, when there's runners on base, Heilman needs to pitch with a shrink behind him sitting in a lawn chair. Why would you do that to Aaron? Somewhere in this city, Aaron's on the phone talking to someone about his mother to work out his mental block. And I blame you.

-Metstradamus

Dear Tim Welke,

Thank you for continuing to convince the masses to bring instant replay to baseball. When you basically helped the Mets lose with your bad call to start the eighth inning, you are helping to score a greater victory for the sport in the process. So when a Derek Jeter foul ball in the ninth inning of Game 7 of the 2010 World Series against the Mets is overturned and made a walk-off, series winning home run, baseball has you to thank.

-Metstradamus

Dear Luis Castillo,

Congratulations on your second home run in three days. Those guys in front of your locker are there because it's time for your "random" drug test. Not that they don't trust you but ... you know, just in case.

-Metstradamus

P.S. They also want to ask you something about Mindy McCready.

Editor's disclaimer: The author of this blog is not insinuating that Luis Castillo is on the juice. That would be silly. He only means to illustrate that we live in a time that people will always associate unexpected power with performance enhancing drugs, which is an ill-informed point of view. Performance enhancing drugs are used more to bounce back from injury, which Luis has now. So as much as Luis gets injured and hobbles around, he can't possibly be juicing.

But when he hit that home run, tell me you weren't thinking it for a split second. (Liar.)

Dear Chan Ho Park,

The one start you made for us in your life is a start that I'll never have back. If you had never wore a Mets uniform, that might have been us that got swept by the Rockies instead of Philadelphia. And if my team is eliminated from the playoffs this season by one game, guess who I'm blaming?

-Metstradamus

Dear Clayton Kershaw,

I look forward to you throwing a no-hitter against the Mets one day. I'll find a way to blame Chan Ho Park for that too.

-Metstradamus

Dear Jonathon Broxton,

My cat likes to howl at the moon. So can you take a step to the left? You're blocking the moonlight.

-Metstradamus

Hello? McFly?

"We don’t feel like we have to do a deal for a pitcher..." -Omar Minaya

Sure, that's what he says. And if you're a fan hearing that, you're probably tearing your hair out right now. But believe this: As Omar Minaya looks repeatedly at the picture in his jacket of all the aces posing on his front door fading away because he's increasingly coming to the point where he can't acquire any of them, you can bet that he's running around the Opryland Hotel performing his best guitar solos to try to get these GM's to hand over their aces.

The problem is that it is harder than it seems. Dontrelle Willis has faded from the picture completely as he's gone to Detroit along with Miguel Cabrera for the Tigers entire minor league system. Johan Santana is pretty much out of the picture himself, Dan Haren is being pursued hard by the Diamondbacks for some good prospects, and Erik Bedard is being chased hard by the Dodgers, as they may have offered Matt Kemp and Jonathan Broxton for him. Now Omar's first guitar solo is reportedly in the form of an offer Aaron Heilman, Carlos Gomez, and Phil Humber...which would be a steal if that happened (Steve Phillips reports that, so the grains of salt come free with that information). But do you see the O's going for that instead of Kemp and Broxton?

"Officials of two clubs that have been in contact with the Mets used the same expression -- "in trouble" -- to describe their efforts to deal for a starting pitcher."

Well now that doesn't sound promising. Now we'll find out just how regarded the Mets prospects are with this Gomez offer. I for one will be surprised (albeit pleasantly) if the O's take the Gomez deal instead of the deal for a power hitter like Kemp and a power pitcher like Broxton (although stranger things have happened, like when Peter Angelos decided at the last minute not to trade Miguel Cabrera and cost the Mets Roy Oswalt.)

(Editor's update: Gee what a surprise, the Orioles turned the deal down.)

Get strummin', Omar.