Be Kind To Small Animals

I figure it this way: to by hyper-critical of Bobby Parnell for only lasting into the third inning in his first major league start would be like smacking a puppy for no good reason. What good would it do? There will be plenty of time to rub Bobby's nose in it if he pulls a Trachsel in a future NLCS. But now that the final two months of the season are resembling extended spring training (much like the first four did except with less delusion), Parnell has a unique opportunity to build arm strength and learn how to negotiate full lineups and select from a whole catalogue of pitches rather than just from the front cover. Getting angry at the latest Mets malaise would be counter-productive, and create unnecessary stress.

Necessary stress, for example, would be to continue to wonder how Frankie Rodriguez ... aside from giving up a grand slam to an A ball player ... could walk Kyle Blanks, a man who at 6'6" has a strike zone the approximate size of a broadside of a barn. You know, the one Frankie couldn't hit.

But throwing small animals and kicking inanimate objects over Saturday night's 3-1 loss is counterproductive. I'm not sure when throwing small animals would be productive, but I guess you would have to ask Kevin Mitchell about that. Besides, I like puppies. I hope Bobby Parnell does too.

Easy On The Eyes

There isn't a good reason for the above picture other than the fact that with Friday night's rainout, your eyes would have been treated to that picture of Brad Penny at first glance for a third straight day. And to be honest with you, it's starting to freak me out. I have dreams where it talks to me, and tells me I need to fire Willie.

I needed to make it stop. Hence, puppies. Besides, who can go wrong with puppies? Puppies rule (and Shingo Takatsu drools). So let's double dip tomorrow ... and between games, go buy something for your mom ... like some Mets lottery tickets ... for Mother's Day.