In The End of This L.A. Story, Everybody Dies

Hey, more exclusive Mets/Dodgers highlights straight off the presses. This clip is a mere montage of Wednesday night's action:

Where Tuesday featured a meltdown of historic proportions (that game marked the first time that the 7-8-9 order of a lineup hit consecutive home runs where the 9 hole hitter was actually a pitcher), Wednesday's game was a suffocation of the ho-hum variety, a 9-1 beating behind the woodshed by the no longer offensively challenged Los Angeles Dodgers.

Yes, it was television too brutal to watch, yet I couldn't turn away.

David Chase's Sopranos ending forced viewers to bring something to the table and think. The Mets, meanwhile, are forcing bloggers everywhere to try to explain this 1-9 slide...and the best that I could probably do is stand at the doorway shrugging my shoulders making an unintelligible sound resembling a walrus when it's attacked by a polar bear.

No hitting? Been there. No bullpen? Done that. Slumping starting pitching? Bought the souvenir t-shirt. Tonight, the new victims to go along with all the old victims was the defense. No diving, vapor locks on covering first, dropped throws from the mound...it all added up to another carcass picked at by the vultures of Dodger Stadium (to go along with all the birds that picked at our carcass back in Detroit).

And guess where we go next? That's correct, the Bronx where every newspaper man, ESPN analyst, and head of state will be salivating at the bit to bury the Mets and are already writing stories leading this way: "Now that the Yankees have swept the Mets and have taken back the city..." It's enough to make this blogger go on media blackout besides actual baseball games for three days to a week and a half. Imagine if you will, how the Mets are feeling right now.

Well you don't have to imagine how Paul Lo Duca is feeling...you saw it on display after the game, head in hands...disgusted look on his face...ready to take a bat to something. Maybe he already has taken a bat to something. A wall? A toilet stall? Wilson Betemit's head?

It doesn't matter. Because taking a bat to any of those options only serves as a reminder that walls, bathroom stalls, and heads of Dodgers are not baseballs. And if you're not making solid contact with baseballs, there's no use wasting all those hits on other options. They'll need all the hits they can get come this weekend.

Don't Worry, Lightning Never Strikes Twice...Er, Three, Er...Aah, Forget It!

Three pitches...

Three homers...

One stunned blogger.

I'm lost. I can't even fathom this right now. Three home runs on three straight John Maine pitches to the 7-8-9 hitters in the order?

On a team that came into the game second to last in all of baseball in home runs?

And the pitcher flips his bat after the third home run without eating the batters box in his next at-bat? Oh, and let me reiterate that the last time this guy hit a home run was high school.

High school?

The same pitcher that now has two career wins, and both against the Mets?

Dae Sung Kuo against the rest of the league, Hong Chih Kuofax against the Mets. Phenomenal.

It's gotten so bad that Hilary Swank doesn't want to be seen in her Mets hat anymore, as she was during Monday's game. Perhaps she used it to wipe Alyssa Milano's blood off the floor after a particularly heated Mets/Dodgers argument. Now that would be a more anticipated matchup than Jorge Sosa vs. Brad Penny.

But here's the good news, the Mets are on the cover of Sports Illustrated this week. At this point, what's left to jinx?