Maybe This Is What The Mayans Meant

If the Mayan calendar holds true, and we're due for a fundamental change in 2012, maybe this was the first sign. Maybe the hints that Bud Selig is planning to retire after the 2012 season is the first hint that maybe the change that the Mayans meant was going to happen in major league baseball.

Sure, the Mayans had never heard of major league baseball, the World Series, or performance enhancing drugs. But perhaps the guy who filled out the calendar looked eerily like Armando Benitez, and maybe he just got up for a mental break and forgot to finish (sounds like Game 1 in 2000, doesn't it?) So perhaps you, the Met fan, have some real fundamental change to look forward to in 2012 and beyond.

Maybe the world is due for a change ... so much so that there will no longer be World Series games in November (don't hold your breath), or WBC games in March, or Chip Caray broadcasting games on TBS. Heck, that last thing has already happened, so maybe that fundamental change we all could use is seriously going to happen. Maybe the Mayans were truly ahead of their time.

Or maybe the guy filling out the calendar way back when looked eerily like Armando Benitez and he just forgot to finish after getting up for a piece of cake. Sounds like Game 1 in 2000, doesn't it?

Most likely, if this is a harbinger of serious Mayan change, then a series of cataclysmic events will precede it. You could say that the entire 2009 season was that series all rolled into one season, but that would be too easy. More likely, 2009 only counts as one event, just as 2007 and 2008 were singular events. And the events keep coming. Think about it: Wilson Valdez and Brian Schneider are now both members of the Philadelphia Phillies. They ranged from barely irrelevant to seriously overrated here ... but as Phillies? Schneider is destined to hit 12 HR's in a part time role in the Shoebox, while Valdez is bound by fate to be the one to officially knock the Mets out of the postseason conversation. Just as Pedro started the trend last season, Valdez will continue that tradition.

Or will it be Billy Wagner? Country time heading to the Braves certainly counts as a cataclysmic event. I mean, who saw this coming? Especially with the Braves having offered arbitration to Mike Gonzalez and Rafael Soriano ... they could have a three headed bullpen monster!

Not that it worked out so well in Flushing, mind you.

But Country Time as Cataclysmic Event lies in the fact that the Mets could have gotten those high draft picks by just holding on to Wagner and offering him arbitration, just as the Braves did. Instead, they traded him for 27-year-old Chris Carter (all he does is score touchdowns ... uh-oh) and let the Red Sox get those draft picks. But they saved $3 million which, after two of those million go to Alex Cora, will be spent on new uniforms that look like they need Tide, and a picture of Todd Pratt in the excelsior level. So I guess it all evens out.

And speaking of that bullpen monster, one of the heads that has been cut off might resurface in Philadelphia in the form of J.J. Putz. Ironically, cutting off Putz's head was the next course of action if the cortisone shot didn't work. Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed and Putz was instead placed on the disabled list. But rest assured that a cortisone shot will not be on the menu for Putz in Philly. A cheesesteak? Maybe. The closer's job? If Brad Lidge cooperates, sure. And why not a game in September where Schneider hits a grand slam, Valdez gets a game winning hit, and Putz strikes out the side in the ninth to eliminate the Mets?

All foretold by the Mayans.

But maybe when it's all said and done, we'll live in a world where the Mets will acquire marginally iconic Philadelphia Phillies and steal their slogans as the Phillies brazenly did with Tug McGraw. Hey, we've got 33-year-old rookie turned 37-year-old Mendoza line hitter Chris Coste. Best case scenario, his inspirational story continues here, he gets a couple of big hits down the stretch, and John Kruk gets to write the forward to his second book.

Mets case scenario, he's cut in spring training because the club signs Bengie Molina, who will set fire to his hamstring in a freak pre-game ritual will be out for the season. And we'll indeed have to wait until 2012 for significant change in baseball, in Flushing, in life. But don't hold your breath.

Freakin' Mayans.

A Cherry On Top Of The Worst Subway Sundae Ever

There are a couple of blogger standbys that I could resort too. But as I type this, I'm not sure which one fits better. I go back and forth between:

• Proclaiming the 2009 season to be over, done, kaput, or ...
• Proclaiming that the New York Mets should volunteer for contraction and cease operations.

They both sound like decent options.

Consider if you will: I wrote a post not so long ago coming up with some too funny to be true scenarios on how much worse losses can get this season. If I had come up with Frankie Rodriguez walking Derek Jeter to get to Mariano Rivera (after throwing Derek Jeter a hittable pitch to lead off the at-bat), and then walking Mariano Rivera for his first career RBI, I would bet that none of you would have thought that was more remotely plausible than any of the others on that list.

Yet, here we are, left to pick up the pieces while we sit at our keyboards trying to make sense of another 21st century laughingstock moment for this franchise.

In the big picture, Frankie walking Rivera (and if I have to hear Jon Miller call him "The Great Rivera" one more f-ing time, I'm going to stab my eyes and ears until I'm bleeding all over both the hardwood floors and the Tuscany tiles) with the bases loaded had nothing to do with the eventual outcome of the ballgame. But in the bigger picture, gee ... how about not walking a guy with two lifetime at-bats in fourteen years with the bases loaded? How about that??? How about losing a ball game without walking Mariano Rivera on national television? Am I asking for a lot? I'm not even asking for a win, I just want to be able to be able to leave my apartment without having to wear a paper bag over my head!!!

I mean, for crying out loud, Derek Jeter is smirking at the plate!!! Everyone in the dugout is trying not to bust a gut laughing. This is a moment that's a big joke to everyone wearing gray. And Frankie goes out and turns the joke right around on the Mets, as usual. I mean, how hard is Brian Bruney laughing right now? How hard are the Yankees laughing right now? They go into their off day as the happiest team in baseball, the sun shining on their world as usual. The Mets, meanwhile, get to take a plane ride to Milwaukee to begin their own personal death march towards another disastrous end of the season. And the only thing left for Frankie to do is to whip off that mask and expose to the world that he's merely Armando Benitez in disguise.

Mariano Rivera!!! He's about as useful a hitter as Dan Warthen is when he stands in the batters' box in the bullpen to simulate a live hitter! Dammit!

And one thing I don't want to hear until the Mets reel off seven in a row is how resilient this team is. Everybody wanted to drink the Kool-Aid after the Mets won the first game after Carlos Beltran went down ... and maybe because we've all been so desperate to see some resilience in this team that to see the Mets win without the bulk of their production was cause for celebration. Well guess what? Taking three of four from the Cardinals is a distant memory. But I'm sure that if the Mets go and win on Monday, we'll hear all this chatter from Snoop Manuel about how resilient this team is and how they're able to bounce back from tough losses.

Great! Then they'll lose two more to Milwaukee ... forcing the whole resiliency cycle to start again. So Snoop, how about laying off bragging about how the team is resilient until they actually get some distance between themselves and .500, the Braves, and the Marlins, whaddaya say? And while we're at it, how about letting go of the hallucination that Fernando Tatis can actually bunt? How about that?

And about that whole "shorthanded" thing? Sorry, marginal major leaguers should be able to get through an inning without kicking the ball around as if it had metal spikes laced with acid on them. And decent major leaguers should be able to handle a guy who comes into a game with an 0-6 record and an ERA of 11.60.

Eleven. Point. Sixty.

Oh, the Mets are shorthanded, boo-hoo. I was willing to go with that against CC Sabathia and A.J. Burnett. Against Chien-Ming Wang? No, you're going to have to do better than that. I mean, David Wright's a legitimate major leaguer, right? Right. A bonafide major leaguer who leads the N.L. in hitting, and couldn't get a freakin' hit during this whole freakin' series. Not one!

So yeah, I don't want to hear anything about shorthanded, resiliency, nor do I even want to hear anybody tell me "But Metstradamus ... Ya Gotta Believe". Because let's get one thing straight: After Ryan Church misses third base with the winning run, Luis Castillo drops the final out of a game, and BB-Rod walks Mariano Rivera with the bases loaded in the same season, the statute of limitations on my obligation to believe has officially run out. And I don't gotta do a damn thing except pay taxes and die.

Blood Thinners, Anyone?

Now I know how Fred Sanford felt.

I just assume these days that most Mets games are going to end up just like Wednesday's nine inning marathon did. Frankie Rodriguez has to know ... and if he doesn't he'll learn ... that he can get all the saves and break all the records he wants when he's wearing Anaheim red ('xcuse me ... Los Angeles of Anaheim red). But when he closes games for the orange and blue, being behind on the count 2-0 is automatic. From Sisk to Orosco to Franco to Benitez to Looper to Wagner, Frankie Rodriguez is just the next victim in the chain. Honestly, what makes him so special that he can just get through ninth innings without some sort of challenge ... whether it be not having his best stuff, or an umpire being talked into a call by the runner?

Or tonight, both?

Go ahead and watch that play where Delgado pulled himself off the bag to try to throw out Brandon Phillips going to third base in the ninth. It's okay to admit that Delgado was, in fact, off the bag. But he's the issue I have with it: If Carlos was indeed off the bag, it was by a couple of inches at most. And Bill Welke was way out of position to make that call. Welke was talked into the call by Edwin Encarnacion, who gets the Lee Mazzilli award for that stunt.

But Frankie caused a lot of his own problems by pretending that 2009 was actually 2008, and also by pretending that he was Aaron Heilman in a very demented game of charades where it's easy to mimic "blown save". Rodriguez, however, had the intestinal fortitude to reach up to the top shelf and pull down some of those pitches he saves for a rainy day and finish off the Reds once and for all.

(Hey, I'm not complaining. Frankie's replacement in Anaheim just gave up three runs in the ninth and blew his first save. Uh-oh.)

So now with the entire back end of the pen having gone the first two games, it would be nice if Oliver Perez could give the Mets a little length for the day game after the night game. But the optimist in me says that Perez will probably put the Mets behind by about seven runs by the time you read this, so Rodriguez, J.J. Putz, and Sean Green aren't going to be needed anyway. If I were Brian Stokes though, I'd start warming up now. (Billy Wagner is already warming up ... but he'll only be effective on eleven months rest.)

(Yeah, I said optimist. I could have said "down by forty runs".)

Mike Pelfrey won with less than his best.

Oh, and you're a true connoisseur of baseball if you were more impressed by Delgado's single to the left side to drive in the sixth run than you were by his tape measure blast in the first inning. If Jerry Manuel's 80 pitches in 6.6 seconds drill is truly going to have this effect on Delgado, maybe teams will stop playing the dopey shift on him.

***

Gary Sheffield's outfield workout before Wednesday's game didn't go so well.

To Gary Sheffield's credit, he has yet to leave roadkill on my doorstep for anything that I've written on this blog. But because he was preparing for a season where he didn't have to play the outfield, maybe he ate the roadkill.

“I knew I was just hitting, so I kept weight on just to be able to hit and keep my strength. Now I’m asked to do something else, so I have to get the weight off and be able to do both.” -Gary Sheffield

Hope Jim Duquette Had A Good Seat

Six innings. Two hits. Three walks. No runs. Game 5 of the ALCS. Craig Sager can't even keep a straight face when asking Chuck Lamar about the engineering the trade with the Mets. But hey, Scott's bullpen blew the game so in some ways, it's like he never left, right?

It's all right though. I'm sure Victor Zambrano did something equally productive baseball-wise today. He traded a Scott Kazmir rookie card for a '67 Corvette. I'll give you one guess as to who was on the other end of that trade.

At least nobody plays baseball tomorrow so there's no chance of something else torturing me ... unless of course Aaron Heilman and Yadier Molina decide to appear at a charity softball game and a ball just happens to bust through my window.

A Moment Of Praise

I don't know if Tuesday's events are the start of something magical, or simply another "dead cat bounce" that delays the inevitable like John Maine's 13-0 win and the corresponding Phillies loss was last season. But whatever happens, let me just say this:

Johan, you're the flippin' man.

Dude, you could have come here, negotiated your new contract, and proceeded to become a huge disappointment like most people that make their way here to Flushing for big bucks. You could have torn your ACL and your MCL stepping out of a golf cart. You could have taken the mound wearing earplugs. You could have trafficked weed in peanut butter jars. Nobody would have known the difference.

Instead, you haven't lost since I saw that crazy woman get dragged out of Shea in a strait jacket. And that was a while ago. Every big start that this team needed in the last three months ... you've provided. It's too bad your talents have been wasted on this team and this bullpen ... you should be a 20 game winner. You should be in the Cy Young conversation. You should have had the opportunity to really turn this town on its ear.

In fact it's to the point where if you start this Sunday and have a clunker, I can't even be that mad at you. I mean yeah ... I'd be a little mad because if you had a clunker the last day of the season, I'd have to go on another "meaning of life" quest to the Arctic Circle or something because I wouldn't even know what do say, do or think at that point. But I'd wind up taking it out on Aaron Heilman, Tom Glavine, and Armando Benitez anyway. Because what you've done up until this point should have been more than enough. What you did last night ... eight innings of gutty baseball pitched with a hit and a fielder's choice where you beat out a double play ... on a night where I had the "season's over" proclamation ready to go, should really be enough.

Instead, this freakin' team is still fighting for their lives. But whatever happens from here on in, just know that it's not your fault Johan ... it's not your fault.

Shea Stadium: The Board Game

Off days and rainouts stink.

What is a Met fan to do on those lonely off days and rainouts during April besides wonder why Willie Randolph consistently mismanages his bullpen?

Well now, you can combine off-day fun with Shea Stadium nostalgia with a great new board game titled: "Shea Stadium: The Board Game"! Can you get through a day at Shea without being pinched by the ushers, buying a cold knish, getting into an fistfight with a Yankee fan, or seeing Carlos Beltran strike out in a big spot? Now, you can experience the fun, excitement, and frustration of seeing the Mets at Shea Stadium from the comfort of your own living room! So help celebrate the final season at Shea Stadium with this addicting board game!

*Click board for optimal view ... template shamlessly stolen from here. Extended game play may cause drooling and dizzyness.

No, We Don't Play The Blue Jays This Season

Dear Armando,

Congratulations on finding work with the Toronto Blue Jays.

Just so you know, the Canadian dollar is worth just as much as the American dollar these days. This stringent exchange rate means that you will not suck any less than you did south of the International Boundary.

Oh, and you can no longer get good deals at the Big and Tall shop.

Regards,

Metstradamus

P.S. Baaaaaaaaalk, balk balk balk balk balk, baaaaaaaaaaaaalk!

I hold grudges. What of it?

All In

So, baseball gods...I see you've called my bluff.

I asked for a reason for belief. You saw that with a one hitter, raised me a benches clearing brawl as an extra sign of life...and a Phillies loss to the Nationals.

Do I call? Do I fold? Do I raise?

I'm all in, baby.

Here I go, baseball gods...all my chips are at the center of the table and I've got acey deucey going up against your jack-six. Let's turn over those cards.

Show me an ace on the flop...an ace as in Tommy Glavine.

Show me a deuce on the turn...as in two wins by the Nationals.

You give me that, there's no need for the river...as in the river crossed by going over the Walt Whitman bridge for a one game playoff with the Phillies.

You're surprised? You're surprised that I'm all in? Why? Do you think I'm scared of you? You think I'm scared because two weeks ago I had a chip pile a mile high, and now I'm down to a handful? Well maybe as the days grew by I was discouraged...but I've pretty much lost everything. There's nothing more to lose at this point. And as you know, it's dangerous to deal cards to someone who's got nothing to lose.

Am I blinking? Not really. In fact I'm staring you baseball gods down without so much as batting an eyelash. Because really, what if I lose? What if you get three sixes and wipe me out? What do I have to be afraid of? Making you guys mad? Feeling your wrath? What more can you do to me that hasn't already been done to me?

Karma? Should I be afraid of baseball karma? Karma's a bitch, you say? Yes, I've said it too. And you know what?

F**k Karma!

What the f**k has Karma gotten me over the last two weeks? I'll tell you what it's gotten me...f***ing grief, that's what! Hell I've practically left the Yankees and Yankee fans alone this season and what has it gotten me? They've made a miraculous comeback from the dead, every rookie they have has a Yankeeography, and they're tearing down the bat at Yankee Stadium to make room for the gold plated statue of Joba Chamberlain for the fans to meet by. Make that the backdrop to my team's collapse, and you want to tell me that Karma plays this game of baseball fair? You want to tell me that Karma doesn't have aces up it's sleeve to use against me, like it did in '87? In '99? In 2000? In 2001? Game seven last year? Where exactly is the reward I get from Karma for not messing with it?

F**k Karma!!! I'm staring Karma down just like I'm staring you down, baseball gods. And if the city of Philadelphia wants to get in on the staredown then bring it on, boys and girls. I know you want nothing better than to knock us down, and I know you're beating down the doors to the castle waiting to come in and bury us once and for all. I know you're there and I'm waiting for you with my chips at the center of the table.

And Mets fans, I'm staring you down too. I'm staring you down because I want you all in with me. I want you in if you've believed all season. I want you in if you gave up somewhere along the way. I want you in if you've said that this is the last straw with this team. I want you in because I've done all three. I've felt it all. I've been to hell and back. I was at the Pendleton game. I was at the Scioscia game. I was at Game Five in 2000. Whatever you've seen, I've seen it.

Whatever you've felt, I've felt it.

Whatever you've done, I've done it.

Whatever you've thrown against the wall in anger, I've broken the wall with it.

Whatever the Mets have done to your heart, I've taken medicine for it.

And even after all that...even after Mike Stanton, Kenny Rogers, Brian Jordan, Art Howe, Terry Pendleton, Bobby Bonilla, Vince Coleman, Armando Benitez, Larry Jones, Willie Harris, Jimmy Rollins, and the rest of the rogues gallery of Mets criminals, I'm still willing to put everything on the line knowing that this team we're banking on could fold their hand and come up with the game that's going to make every bad moment in this franchise history seem like a ticker tape parade in comparison.

I know it. I embrace it. And I refuse to fear it anymore. Because according to the rest of the world, we're mongrels. They want us dead and buried once and for all.

Are you really going to turn in your cards and fold after that?

Not me.

As for you baseball gods, you're trying to get a bad beat on me, and I say bring it. There's two cards to turn over on Sunday. Maybe one card on Monday. I'm ready for whatever happens. They say never bet money that you're afraid to lose, and it's high time to stop being afraid. Here's my ace, here's my deuce. You beat it, you win. Remember that you don't have all my money yet...and a wise man once said that if you don't have my money then you are mine.

So, baseball gods...let's play some cards.

Mardi Blah

Perhaps Thursday's demotion of Joe Smith is a thinly veiled attempt to get the lad a short vacation. Perhaps, he's not going to New Orleans at all. Perhaps he's really going to Cancun or something to spend a week in the sun.

Because if he's hit a wall, as we all believe, then what will pitching in New Orleans solve exactly? The guy needs to be resting in New Orleans.

(Now may not be a great time to bring this up, but Jose Lima is 13-4 in the Mexican league.)

Speaking of hitting walls, Oliver Perez hit his in the sixth inning today, with weapons ranging from broken bat hits, infield hits, sacrifice bunts thrown to Scarsdale (at least Ollie's control to home plate isn't as bad as his control to first base), to hard hit balls off of David Wright's kneecap and long home runs by ex-Yankees. A smorgasbord of disaster for Perez, who's own error made the five runs he gave up unearned. (Mike DeJean thinks that Nady's line drive should have been and error on David Wright.)

But it was Smith that concerned the Mets brass enough that they took the completely unexpected step of sending Smith to New Orleans after yesterday's 8-4 loss to the Pirates. It started against San Diego, as he got rocked in two games at Petco. But Smith's meltdown today against the heart of the Pirates order, where the trademark movement on Smith's pitches was not there, was apparently the last straw...for now. I'm wondering how people are feeling this morning about the fact that Smith is in the minor leagues while Aaron Sele still has a job. Then again, Sele pitches once a month so if there's any arm that isn't dead, it's Sele's.

So we welcome the Jon Adkins Experience, which is kind of like those rides where you go straight down at 100 mph, except instead of down, you're going up...up...and over the left field wall. Hey, that's what we should do with Shea after the Mets move...make it an amusement park, slingshot fans from home plate over the outfield wall, and call it the Jon Adkins Experience. Or the Donne Wall Experience. Or whoever will sponsor it.

(It could be the Armando Benitez Experience, especially after what happened to him on Thursday.)

The other ride could be the Fluff Castro Experience, where you could attempt to slide into second base. But the area around it isn't dirt, but filled with a mix of quicksand and oatmeal. (Riders would actually have to make it to second base to win a prize.)

Look Ma, No Outfield!

I was wondering why Carlos Beltran wasn't turning and going to second on Kevin Frandsen's off target throw as Beltran ran into Rich Aurilia. Well duh, he was hurt!

Unfortunately, hurt enough to leave the game and leave the Mets juggling with an outfield of Endy Chavez, Carlos Gomez, and Ben Johnson. A far cry from Beltran, Moises Alou, and Shawn Green. But hey, when Orlando Hernandez is going the way he was going (after the first inning, of course), you could have an outfield of me, my brother, and my cat (our combined averages are just above Gomez's average right now but we can't cover nearly as much ground...that's why the cat would be in center field), and still come away with the 4-2 victory that they came away with.

The theme of this series was most assuredly "Giants two, Mets coming to bat", as three times the Mets spotted the Giants a two run lead before Jose Reyes' bat was to waggle in the box. Yet the Mets were a mere Barry Zito gem away from possibly sweeping this series. Two out of three, under those circumstances, and under the circumstances of no starting outfielders left standing, is completely acceptable, not to mention completely indicative of the way the Mets' starting staff is able to bounce back from early hiccups...and I give Orlando a boatload of credit. These are usually the kind of games that Hernandez can't bounce back from. He's usually either terrible or brilliant, but never both in one game. Luckily, he got the terrible out of the way and ended off with a whole lot of brilliant.

Of course, an MRI on Carlos Beltran is completely scary, as the last thing the Mets need while they are humming along is for a major cog in the offense to be out for any stretch of time. So y'all keep your fingers crossed.

***

Where were you when Armando got traded?

Where were you when you found out that Carlos Delgado's game winner was the last pitch that Armando Benitez would ever throw in a Giants uniform? Where were you when you found out that the Mets, who couldn't beat Benitez for the longest time, officially became dragon-slayers, retroactively, on Tuesday night? Where were you when you found out that not only have the Mets flushed Benitez out of San Francisco, but basically brought him back to the National League East where our team will have a few more cracks at him?

Of course, it was in a Marlins uniform where Benitez had his greatest successes against the Mets, so I probably shouldn't talk too soon. And more than likely, Benitez isn't going to be let anywhere near the ninth inning unless Kevin Gregg, Henry Owens, Matt Lindstrom, Troy Percival, Bryan Harvey and Charlie Hough all go down with injuries. But rest assured, our paths will cross again in 2007. The Mets and Armando. Armando and the Mets.

So go ahead, Fredi Gonzalez...let him close. I dare you. But you've gotta ask yourself one question: "Do I feel lucky?"

Do ya?

Barry Bling

I guess we'll just have to rotate one set of karma at a time.

The Mets finally have Armando Benitez's number. And after all that Met fans have been through with Blow-nitez, the Mets owning him is just right.

The Mets, if justice were to come all at once, would have Barry Zito's number already. And not because he took more money to sign with the Giants. Because it really doesn't matter that he chose the money and the short move over the immediate chance to win the pennant and World Series. That's his prerogative and I'm not going to begrudge him that.

But this nonsense that Zito came out with regarding the Mets being "arrogant", and spinning it to sound like that was a main factor in him signing with the Giants is so ridiculous that if it Barry was to do any more spinning I'd have to tie myself to the couch to keep from hitting the wall. Sure, I wanted the Mets to open the checkbook as much as anyone, but the Giants blew the Mets out of the water. And maybe the Mets were arrogant, although I thought that the Mets dragging their heels on the negotiations was a more deciding factor than any arrogance (and considering the performances of John Maine and Oliver Perez this season, turns out that Omar Minaya and the Wilpons had every right to be arrogant).

But the largest factor started with a 1 and ended with a 26...as in the number of millions in Barry's bank account after these seven seasons are up. For him to pretend that it's not reaks of some major hypocrisy on his part...and some major spin doctoring as well. He took the money, so bless his heart. Honestly, if I was left-handed and could pitch like Barry Zito, I don't know what I would do. What I hope that I wouldn't do is insult everyone's intelligence and make something like "arrogance" a factor more major than making enough money to add a movie theater or a regulation size hockey rink to the back of the house.

So in that respect, if karma was one hundred percent right this season, the Mets would have hit Barry Zito as hard as say, Zito's former teammates did when he faced them. Instead, Zito twirled seven scoreless as the Mets were shutout for the first time all year. Instead, karma will just have to come one step at a time. So we'll take solace in the fact that the Mets have the best record in the National League, and Zito's team is not only a game under .500, but still employs Armando Benitez...although you wouldn't know it from his conspicuous absence in a save situation tonight.

***

(Editor's note: "The Met Fan" booed Guillermo Mota upon his return, before he threw two scoreless innings tonight. Happy, Chris? Probably not.)

Balk Balk! Like The Chicken You Are!

The real Carlos Delgado is back. The one we all know and love.

The real Armando Benitez is also back. The one we all know and love...to hate.

Combine the two, and you have a recipe for a sweet night. And oh, how sweet it is.

Sometimes, karma lies dormant for a while. We had all hoped for this the minute Armando left the Mets...hoped for the Mets to have his number from the start. Instead, he went 12-for-12 in save opportunities against the Flushing Nine in 2004, and we all wondered what the Mets did to deserve that.

Oh that's right, they hired Art Howe, signed Shane Spencer and Karim Garcia instead of Vladimir Guerrero, and traded Scott Kazmir for Victor Zambrano. Now I remember.

But that bit of karma has been in someone's hip pocket for a long time, just waiting for the right time to be played. And between Lastings Milledge, and a gaggle of walks, it has indeed been well played over the past couple of seasons. But if there was a quintessential way to defeat the man we affectionately call "Blow-nitez", two balks and a walk-off bomb by Diesel was it. Especially after Armando threw his infield under the bus after a recent game against the Rockies:

"I'm doing my job, I got three groundballs and what happened?" Benitez asked. "We had an opportunity to win the game. How many times we got somebody on base and nobody moved him? Somebody had to pay and the person that paid was me. He hit a good pitch, a slider away, and a sinker."

Amazing that when it's someone else's fault, our friend Benitez is willing to expound to reporters afterwards. Not like when he was here right?

Oh, here's Armando's pearl of wisdom tonight...after he had nobody to blame but himself:

"I lost the game."

Yes, you most certainly did. Here's what Omar Vizquel should have said afterwards:

"I'm doing my job, I dive and rob Julio Franco of the game winning hit in the ninth, and Kevin Frandsen makes a great play on the barehand stab of my flip and what happened?" Vizquel asked. "We had an opportunity to win the game. How many times we got somebody on base and nobody balked him all the way home in the first eleven innings? Somebody had to pay and the person that paid was me."

Maybe Vizquel can put that in his next book whenever he decides he wants to piss off another teammate.

Tonight, for the first time since his departure, I can truly say I'll miss Armando Benitez when he leaves Shea Stadium. I'll miss his karma.

***

Speaking of members of the Hall of Hate, I had high hopes for one of them today, as Mike Francesa started out the "Mike and the Mad Dog" show at Shea Stadium by warning about revisionist history regarding Roger Clemens, and how people are making him out to be this savior after making his appearance in the owner's box at Yankee Stadium announcing his comeback. And how Clemens has never been a savior in his Yankee history, only a mercenary.

Loved it. Francesa was making sense.

Then, inevitably of course, he blew it.

Somehow, of course, he and his partner Russo called Met fans hypocrites for booing Barry Bonds and holding protests while cheering Guillermo Mota.

To clarify, Mr. Francesa, a group of fans at Boycott Barry organized the protests with the blindfolds. Somehow, Francesa associated this with "the Met fan" as Francesa liked to refer to us as repeatedly, as our protest. It wasn't our protest. The fans in the park on Tuesday played along (as evidenced by the crowd being somewhat subdued until Bonds came to the plate in the tenth), but it certainly wasn't organized by Mets fans. But hey, why let a little research get in the way of painting "the Met fan" with a broad brush.

And by the way, if you gentlemen are going to get on "the Met fan" for cheering Guillermo Mota upon his return (and if you see the small sample on my current poll question, it's basically split down the middle between cheers and boos...although I'm surprised more people didn't click the chicken and beer option), then "let's be fair", as you like to say Chris, and get "the Giant fan" for cheering Barry Bonds the way they do. Why not get on them, even though Giants fans actually have good reason to love him, because steroids or not, he saved your franchise from being moved to Tampa Bay in the early nineties.

Go ahead Chris, be fair.

Oh who am I kidding, this is a guy who's good friend Mike North got a shot at the Imus time slot on Tuesday morning, and according to someone who actually heard his show this morning, responded by calling the Mets "red-headed stepchildren". In reasoning that only proves that he's Russo's friend, since the Yankees got all the coverage in the morning newspaper, while the Mets got none, "nobody cares about the Mets."

...

...

THE METS DIDN'T PLAY ON MONDAY THAT'S WHY THEY WEREN'T IN THE NEWSPAPER YOU NASAL DISCHARGE!!!

I know, I shouldn't care what any of these people say or do, but I can't help myself. Watching these guys are like a drug, or a relationship that's a bad idea but somehow you can't break free from. Besides, restraint is no fun...for me, or for you.

Mind of (Ex) Met-sia

Here is how the boxscore of Wednesday's ninth inning read:

A Benitez relieved B Hennessey.
Paul Lo Duca Ball, P Lo Duca singled to left
Ruben Gotay Ball, Ball, R Gotay bunted into fielder's choice to third, P Lo Duca out at second
Endy Chavez Ball, Strike (swinging), Strike (swinging), Ball, Foul, Ball, Foul, Ball, E Chavez walked, R Gotay to second
Jose Reyes Ball, Ball, J Reyes singled to right, R Gotay to third, E Chavez to second
David Wright Ball, Ball, Ball, Strike (looking), D Wright doubled to deep left, R Gotay and E Chavez scored, J Reyes to third

Now, that same transcription, with the thoughts of former Met reliever Armando Benitez interjected:

A Benitez relieved B Hennessey (All right, here I come to face the Mets again. I never lose to the Mets, ever! Not since they traded me to the Yankees I'll never lose to them as long as I live. Let's play ball.)
Paul Lo Duca Ball (Sonofabitch), P Lo Duca singled to left (All right, I can get out of this jam. After all, I'm Armando Benitez...and I never, ever, lose to the Mets.)

Ruben Gotay (Ruben Go-who? He had his home run for the season, I have nothing to worry about.) Ball (Damnit, he's trying to bunt and I can't throw a strike), Ball (Damnit! This umpire is squeezing me.), R Gotay bunted into fielder's choice to third, P Lo Duca out at second (That's more like it...but this umpire is still killing me.)

Endy Chavez Ball (I am seriously going to choke someone if I don't get a strike call), Strike (There we are, I'm Armando Benitez with my healthy 95 miles per hour fastball who can't be hit) Strike (Yeah, I am so the flippin' man! F-the Mets!!! F-the Mets!!!) Ball (Damn, I'm seriously getting po'd right now), Foul, Ball (Damn, where is Coach Valentine to visit me and tell me what a great pitcher I am?), Foul, Ball (I could really use that mound visit now), E Chavez walked, R Gotay to second (You know what else I can use? A cup of hot cocoa...and my old teddy bear...has anyone seen my old teddy bear?)

Jose Reyes Ball (All right, this is really starting to suck right here), Ball (oh I'm so mad now...I'm going to show the world how mad I am and go stalk behind the mound and throw this resin bag down, now the world will know that Armando means business...damn, now Reyes is going to expect a fastball down the middle, which is pretty much what I'm going to throw him. Maybe he'll get overanxious and pop it up...and you know I still don't have that teddy bear yet), J Reyes (Yes! He popped it up. I am the man!!! Just get over there Ray...get over there, it's an easy pop up...Ray? Linden???) singled to right (G*D D***MIT YOU $&^HOLES I COULD KILL YOU BOTH WITH MY BARE HAND RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I'M BIGGER THAN BOTH OF YOU COMBINED!!!), R Gotay to third, E Chavez to second

David Wright (They're warming somebody up in the bullpen??? This Bochy's no Bobby Valentine) Ball (Now settle down Armando, remember that this is the Mets we're talking about. This Wright character hasn't had a hit in three weeks), Ball (unintelligible spanish cursing), Ball (Oh my goodness gracious, I'm going to walk the winning run home...where has my life betrayed me), Strike (Ha! I rule! F-The Mets, F-The Mets, F-The Mets), D Wright (get foul, get foul, GET FOUL!!!) doubled to deep left, R Gotay and E Chavez scored, J Reyes to third (That's it, I'm not talking to the media. How dare they only come to my locker when I lose...uncontrollable sobbing).

***

Aaron, I'm sorry. You did shave your head. You are a good teammate and I never meant to imply otherwise. You helped us win by keeping the game tied. You are a good pitcher. Please forgive me...I'll take you to a Jet game in the fall, on me.

Now get those clippers ready for Jose, please.

***

John Maine did not have his best stuff today and still fought through for a quality start. That's what good pitchers do.

But regarding the two run home run that Maine gave up, I have to quote the fine folks at Dodger Blues, in reference to Derek Lowe:

"Giving up a home run to Dave Roberts is like getting mugged and robbed by an 85-year-old amputee. Embarrassing."

So what exactly is giving up a home run to a guy who was supposed to go on the disabled list on Wednesday with bone chips in his elbow, who also happens to be Dave Roberts? Getting mugged and robbed by a 95-year-old amputee? A 105-year-old amputee? Rusty Staub?

"The 34-year-old Roberts homered in the Giants' 5-3 loss to the New York Mets on Wednesday, but noted afterward that he did so under the influence of strong anti-inflammatories and was fresh after not having played in the three previous games."

Under the influence? Is that cheating? Can we get George Mitchell in on this?

Mets Get Britn-i-fied!

Team bonding 101: Cut hair.

It's the oldest trick in the book. Shaved heads work probably as well as the playoff beard, with a little added instant gratification involved too. Hair on the floor and suddenly large ears will do that.

Twenty-one out of the twenty-five Mets, along with trainer Mike Herbst shaved their heads before today's game (and it's a good thing Herbst shaved his head, he looked too much like Ted McGinley, who you know as the death knell of every television show known to man, with that hair.) It worked, making them more aerodynamic and somehow in turn gave their bats more speed as well in the first inning, as they rode a three run first to beat Matt Cain and the Giants 4-1.

Of the four Mets who didn't shave their heads, three of them get a pass: Jose Reyes, because how much more aerodynamic does he need to be? Tom Glavine, because you don't mess with a future hall of famer on the night he pitches. And Aaron Sele, because he has family photo day on Thursday...professional photos are expensive, and remember that those things hang on the wall forever. For--e--ver! You don't want a team bonding activity immortalized on your living room wall.

Then there's Aaron Heilman.

I can't think of a good excuse for Aaron Heilman. Or at least I don't think we were told a good excuse by the SNY broadcast crew. I'm sure there is one, we just haven't heard it yet. It's all good though, because surely Heilman will follow suit and bond with the rest of the team, right?

Right?

Oh never mind. The last thing I'm going to do is get on Aaron Heilman after a win in which he didn't even pitch. Tuesday night was the cure for what ailed the Mets after the awful 9-4 loss on Monday. Tuesday night was the very reason why teams should still be scared of the Mets this season...because what teams are mentally together enough to do something silly like shave their heads and laugh it up after an ugly loss like Monday night? Most teams would simply forget about a loss like that and move on. These Mets? They take it one step further and have their best player shave everybody's heads before the next game. Worries? Not on this team.

Side note: How ironic is it that the Mets pulled off their most famous haircut bonding ritual in the home of Armando Benitez, who was involved in the most infamous haircut in Mets history, his shearing of Rey Sanchez during a blowout loss in '03. Tonight's haircuts are waaaaay different than that.

Night and day different.

***

It's too bad that the Mets of the 80's never did something like this, or else we would have gotten to see Keith Hernandez in all his cranial glory. Hernandez claims he would have never done this, so we're left to wonder what Keith Hernandez would have looked like bald. Well, if you're demented enough to try to imagine that, wonder no more:

Or what about the Mets of the nineties? Would you have wanted to see this:

Can you even imagine Mike Piazza going for something like that? I know he was crazy enough to crop his flowing locks and dye them blond...but bald? Thank goodness that timing is everything.

Your 2007 N.L. East Preview: Florida Marlins

Some of the greatest lies told in history:

1. "The check is in the mail."
2. "I'll respect you in the morning."
3. "I knew the Marlins would be good last year."

No, it's not. No, you aren't. And no...you didn't.

The Marlins were the most surprising story of 2006 after "Fire Sale II: Electric Boogaloo" that previous winter. Who dared to give the Marlins a chance to hang around the .500 mark one season after unloading the likes of Josh Beckett, Luis Castillo, Juan Pierre, and two players who were major Mets contributors in Carlos Delgado and Paul Lo Duca.

But every break that the Marlins could have gotten in terms of the development of young players, they got. Hanley Ramirez was the Rookie of the Year without leading the rookies in his own team in HR's and RBI...that honor went to middle infield partner Dan "Rule Five" Uggla. Josh Willingham went .277/26/74 in his first full season. Mike Jacobs overcame a lousy first two months and an injury riddled last two months to hit .262 with 20 HR's (shows you how good those middle two months were). Anibal Sanchez went 10-3 with a 2.83 ERA and a no-hitter to his credit (that's four no-hitters for the Marlins in their history, none for the Mets...just thought I'd throw that out there). Scott Olsen went 12-10 with a 4.04 ERA and almost killed Miguel Cabrera.

The Marlins' rookies were so good that the one rookie I thought would shine probably had the tamest season of them all.

The Marlins shored up their bullpen today by trading prospect Yusmeiro Petit for Julio Jorge (no, Anna...it's Jorge Julio) , who will be their closer. (It always scares me when former Mets are traded for each other...when another circle of life closes like that, the ramifications for Mets personnel and fans alike can't be good.) Sure, Julio was ineffective in New York, but he's a more seasoned option than Henry Owens and Matt Lindstrom (see, more former Mets involved...very scary), who were the leading candidates to close before the trade. It improves the club, but it does so in a small market kind of way, as part of Julio's charm for Florida was his relative inexpensiveness, as they were also looking towards trading for Armando Benitez (that makes five former Mets used in context regarding another team in one paragraph. I think I just opened up a porthole to an evil alternate universe.)

The Marlins' surprise season made them the odds on "trendy pick" to win in 2007 until the Phillies got hot over the last two months of the season. The big "if", however, is what will happen to this team because of the ouster of Joe Girardi in favor of...well, technically Fredi Gonzalez, but to be real: Joe Girardi was let go in favor of "Not Joe Girardi". Girardi's rules and structure (and general "hard assness") kept a young team together through the end in the wild card race. Can Fredi Gonzalez do the same thing? Well, most managers would be silly to try to be his predecessor. It would also be silly to try too hard to be the "polar opposite" of his predecessor, and I wonder if that's what Gonzalez is going to try to do subconsciously to try to please his owner, Jeffrey Loria ("Sure Mr. Loria, go ahead and yell at the umpires for me...after all, it's your team!")

And don't count out Fire Sale III: Through The Olive Trees as long as Dontrelle Willis continues to be followed by rumors. But even after Willis' brush with the law this offseason, don't be surprised if it's Miguel Cabrera and not Dontrelle that finds a bus ticket out of town under his pillow one July evening.

Prediction: Fourth place, 75-87

The Hate List Hall of Fame

You have spoken, Mets faithful. And it's official:

You love the hate list.

First off, let's give credit where credit is due. The hate list is a subconscious derivative of the "a-hole of the moment" feature from the Dodger Blues website. For those of you who think I'm funny, trust me; I don't hold a candle to these guys. Check 'em out.

Your adoration for the hate list got me thinking...if I really applied myself, I could put together a whole 25 man roster just of players that I hate (25 years of angst can't be narrowed down to just one player). And what can be better than that? I mean, people love to hate, right? ESPN dedicated a whole article on hate.

I live by the axiom: "Give the people what they want." So on this off day, I'm giving you what you want: HATE, and lots of it. Here now, my 25 man roster for the Metstradamus Hall of Hate:

Catcher: Mike Scioscia/Dodgers Catcher is a tough position to call...I have tremendous respect for catchers. And there aren't a lot of catchers that are societal freaks and curmudgeons. So it came down to one thing to get Scioscia on this list. Game 4, 1988 NLCS. It was cold...bitter cold. And Scioscia's HR ensured that I would sit in the upper deck for three more innings and watch the Mets lose.

First Base: Jeff Kent/Many Teams Kent has played some first base so he goes here to make room for my hall of fame second baseman. It didn't help that Kent came in the David Cone deal (another great Mets trade). His refusal to wear the clown outfit for rookie initiation exposed him as a sociopath. Then started his assault on hall of fame numbers after he leaves. And his fake Texas accent ticks me off. The man with the porn star mustache is from California for heaven's sake! The only time I ever rooted for Barry Bonds was in his dugout fight with Kent.

Second Base: Robby Alomar/Mets From day one, was not excited about being a Met...complaining about Mark Shapiro and how Cleveland mistreated him, then near the end complained that he didn't have a reason to come to the ballpark. Boo hoo. I'll forever love Roger Cedeno for teasing Alomar about his baseball card and causing Alomar to expose himself as a thin-skinned crybaby.

Shortstop: Rey Ordonez/Mets Another tough position to call, but when you call Met fans "too stupid", you zoom to the top of the list...especially when it's the only time in seven years that you decided to speak english to reporters. (Derek Jeter should get a special mention here, but I hate more what he represents and the elevated status he gets from the New York press at the expense at the rest of the Yankees roster, than the man himself. I won't even mention how Jeter's whole legacy started on a home run that should have been an out.)

Third Base: Larry Jones/Braves He could be the utility man of the group, since he can play short and left field as well. But I have lots of outfielders for this team and not really anyone else at third. Larry, who said that Met fans would go home and put on their Yankee gear, and named his child Shea for crying out loud, is the clear cut winner at third.

Left Field: Vince Coleman/Cardinals and Mets For those who are only old enough to remember Brave hate, in the mid 80's there was Cardinals hate...now that was hate. Coleman was one of the pesky punch and judy slap hitters that drove the Mets nuts...then came to the Mets and was useless. On top of that, he threw firecrackers at children, thought that playing on grass would keep him out of the hall of fame, and didn't know who Jackie Robinson was! What a role model.

Center Field: Ken Griffey Jr./Reds Turns down a trade to the Mets in 2000 so he can go home to Cincinnati. After that, can't stay healthy, and misses out on the Subway Series that he could have been the difference for. Karma's a bitch, aint it Junior?

Right Field: Bobby Bonilla/Mets Do you realize that from 2011 to 2035, Bobby Bonilla will be receiving checks from the Mets to finish the big contract he signed? And for what? For being the centerpiece of the worst team in history? For daring reporters to knock the smile off his face? For threatening to show a reporter the Bronx? For playing cards with Rickey Henderson during Game 6 of the 1999 NLCS?

Righty Ace: Roger Clemens/Yankees "I thought it was the ball." Jackass!

Lefty Ace: Mike Hampton/Rockies The inspiration for this article. (Editor's note: Great catch as usual by Matt Cerrone where the compensatory pick from Hampton's departure turned into David Wright. That's some silver lining. However, I will continue to enjoy the Mets bashing his brains in at every opportunity).

Third Starter: Mike Scott/Astros While a Met, was dubbed "The Human White Flag". Then waits until he leaves to learn to cheat. Was the MVP of the 1986 NLCS for cheating in games 1 and 4.

Fourth Starter: John Tudor/Cardinals One of the best lines I ever read about a pitcher, and I can't remember where it was from, was that "John Tudor always looks like he's pitching right after a root canal surgery". Priceless.

Fifth Starter: David Wells/Yankees It takes a lot to make this team without having any direct connections with the Mets, but Wells does it. But he makes the list because he says stupid things like "If I were Kenny Rogers, I would have done the same thing", then proceeds to know why the cameraman was winking. I could sit here and say that Wells is really brave when it comes to talking to the media about such things, and that I bet he wouldn't have the guts to go up to the cameraman and tell him what he thinks...and that Wells is one of those guys who purposely takes the controversial side so he can be "hip and edgy" so he can have a permanent place on the panel of "The Best Damn Sports Show, Period" when he retires. But I don't know Wells personally, so I would never say such things. And until Wells gets to know this cameraman personally, the fat drunk should butt out!

Righty Closer: Armando Benitez/Mets Has the intestinal fortitude of a marshmallow. Can't win a big game, whines that the media only talks to him when he loses, and only throws at a hitter because he hits him well (a la Clemens).

Lefty Closer: John Rocker/Braves You know why. I'm not going to insult your intelligence by expounding any further.

Middle Relief: Donne Wall/Mets Gives up a home run to Jason Jennings in Jennings' first ever game. I spent the next half inning heckling him mercilessly. There's a good story that goes with this, but I have to save some stuff for posting in the off-season when it's slow.

Middle Relief: Mike Stanton/Yankees and Mets Those of you who read regularly know that I can't stand Mike Stanton. It's not only the fact that Stanton was an important cog on the great Yankee teams and gave up three run HR's to the likes of Endy Chavez as a Met, but during the post game celebration after the 2000 World Series, Stanton actually bothered to spray champagne at the TV screen in the clubhouse when Bobby Valentine was doing a post game interview. I wanted no part of him after that. And not only that, Stanton was the guy who whined and bitched that the Mets were too public with their 9/11 charity work (thank you darth marc for reminding me of that). Only Mike Stanton could take a horrible tragedy and use it as a point for Yankee/Met propaganda. Good job, you're a class act. Now go have a another McRib.

Middle Relief: Mike DeJean/Mets An awful, awful pitcher. But that alone usually doesn't get you on this team...Mike DeJean pulled a Bobby Bonilla and complained to the official scorer about charging David Wright with an error so his ERA would go down from 800 to 799.90. David Wright is the future of the franchise and Mike DeJean is a washed up reliever who once argued with his manager on the mound for all to see. But DeJean felt it necessary to throw Wright under a bus. Nice.

Bench: Brian Jordan/Braves When he was traded away from Atlanta for Gary Sheffield, I thought the Mets got the best end of the deal...they wouldn't see Brian Jordan 19 times a year.

Bench: Eddie Perez/Braves This team needs a catcher, and Eddie Perez is one of those guys that chirps when a pitcher throws a ball one inch inside.

Bench: Pat Burrell/Phillies Why he turns into a monster at Shea is beyond me.

Bench: Terry Pendleton/Cardinals September 11th, 1987 may be the most heartbreaking game I've ever been to at Shea. Two outs, two strikes, ninth inning, Mets up by two runs with Roger McDowell on the mound and one strike away from cutting the Cardinals' lead in the division to a mere half game...Terry Pendleton moves up in the box to jack a sinker out to center field to tie the game. Then after getting two runners on for Keith Hernandez in the bottom of the inning, he grounded out to first and the Cards won it in the 10th. It's generally regarded as the game which cemented the pennant for the Cardinals. Once again, there's a great story that accompanies this game, but I'm not emptying my chamber at this point. Let's just say that Pendleton home run caused many a fan to go home with sore bones for years after.

Bench: Pedro Guerrero/Dodgers You may think Pedro makes the list solely for throwing his bat at David Cone after being hit with a curveball, but before a 1988 game at Shea Stadium, Pedro Guerrero made an effort to sign every program down the third base line...and skipped me! Yeah, this one's a little personal but, my team...my rules.

Bench: Jose Vizcaino/Yankees Remember that game winning hit in game one of the World Series that the traitor was responsible for? Well Vizcaino received the ball from either a fan or a stadium type, but Vizcaino lost the ball in the glove compartment of a rented car. It's a small victory, but I still hate him.

Bench: Juan Gonzalez/Rangers "I want to be a Met" he says before he decides to sign with the Rangers. He's played 186 games in the three and 1/2 seasons since his last minute change of heart. See: "Ken Griffey Jr."

Manager: Whitey Herzog/Cardinals As I have said before, before Braves hate, there was Cardinals hate. And the personification of Cardinals hate was their manager, Whitey Herzog. His nickname, "The White Rat" was fitting. I can't think of any more fitting punishment for him than to manage this bunch.

Bench Coach: Art Howe/Mets Here is all you need to know about Art Howe: August 29th, 2004, after basically being asleep the entire season, wakes up in time to pull off his greatest managerial feat in his Met career...he plays the infield in with a runner on third base with the score 8-1 Dodgers. As you know, a 7 run lead with one out in the eighth is fine, but an eight run lead in the eighth is insurmountable. (Otherwise known as "WHY?") Steve Finley singled to center to drive in the run, and put the game away.

Bench Coach: Dallas Green/Mets There are many others you can make a case for here, Buddy Harrelson and Jeff Torborg come to mind. And while I see the arguments I go with Dallas Green for basically throwing away Jeromy Burnitz and ruining Generation K by pitching them into the ground.

General Manager: Al Harazin/Mets Oh lord Harazin was beyond bad...he wasn't even a baseball guy, he was a lawyer posing as a baseball man. I think he's actually teaching a law class now. This was the man that not only wheeled David Cone, but put together that awful 1993 team. Frank Tanana? Tony Fernandez? Butch Huskey? Harazin wins...hands down!

Uniforms: 1993 Mets home uniforms The official wardrobe of failure.

Close runner up: The 1988-1992 Mets road unis. When the Mets went to a script "New York" for the roadies during the 1987 season, Wally Backman had mentioned that the best part about the new unis was that the letters weren't in block form to look like the Yankees. So what do the Mets do in 1988? They go with the Yankee style block letters. Thanks for listening.