No Catcher Left Behind

"Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy." -John Denver

Well it's no wonder that the Mets are making crazy predictions about World Series and what not. All this sun is making them giddy. And who could blame them after all the snow we've had here lately, and all the rotten they've had for three years.

World Series predictions? Hell, why not. Why not be excited for a day? We have the whole summer to chastise the Mets for their mouths writing checks that their OPS can't cash. We all like to talk about "hope springs eternal" and all of the lovely prose that goes with the first official day of spring training (which when you really think about it, is a date that holds less and less significance every year with the truckloads of players that report early every year, not to mention the extended spring training that was July through September last season), so why not throw some wacky predictions around for a day? That's what the official first day of spring training is for. Optimism

After that, of course, all bets are off. Especially when all of the progress made over the next month and a half are in the abstract. The season is full of wins and losses. The off-season can be easily measured in statistics, dollars, and happy-to-be-heres. Spring training? Lots of stretching. Lots of games scouted by Buffalo. Real indications of how the season is going to play out? Not from John Maine pitching against Broward County Community College (nice one, Brad). No, no real clues unless Ryan Church comes to recreate his carom off Marlon Anderson, or Omar Minaya signs five more catchers to complete his controversial gene splicing experiment to see if he can create Joe Mauer from the DNA of Josh Thole, Rod Barajas, Chris Coste, Gary Carter, Manny Sanguillen, Jack Clements, three sheep and a turkey club sandwich. Then we'll all have a clue as to whether we're doomed to misery or not.

Until then, we can dream ... at least until Kelvim Escobar goes for that inevitable MRI.

Check Your Inbox

"One pitch, one at bat, one play, one situation, think ‘small’ and ‘big’ things result, tough at-bats, lots of walks, stay up the middle with men on base, whatever it takes to ‘keep the line moving’ on offense, 27 outs on defense, the Mets know you’re better than they are. They remember last year. You guys are never out of a game. Welcome the challenge that confronts you this weekend. You are the stars. Good luck. #20."

-Mike Schmidt, in an e-mail to the Phillies before Friday night's 3-0 Met defeat.

Thankfully, the Mets family showed that once you leave the Mets, you never really leave the Mets. And they responded after the game with a flood of e-mails in support of the current team:

"Gosh golly boys, you can do it! Gee whiz! And just know that if you need me to manage, I'm a phone call away." -Gary Carter

"Hey you need that extra motivation against the Phillies. You need that second gear. Hey, tough guys, you need ... Shave Zone!" -Lee Mazzilli

"If they ain't startin', you ain't departin." -Garry Templeton

"Hey, just letting you know that now that my team is out of the running, that I'm rootin' for ya ... take 'em to school like that school was in Colorado!" -Mike Hampton

"F**k Whitey! F**k the f**king Cardinals. Wait, what? They're playing the Phillies? Oh. Hey, you need stock tips?" -Lenny Dykstra

"Show 'em the Bronx!" -Bobby Bonilla

"Hey guys, I know how to make this loss hurt a whole lot less ... if you're interested." -Tony Tarasco

"Does Von Hayes still play for them? No? Oh, good. Go get 'em boys! -Calvin Schiraldi

"As long as you battle you'll be winners in my book! -Art Howe

"I wish you the best of luck." -Brent Gaff

P.S. Yes, I did play for the Mets. Does anybody remember me?

"Gregg Jefferies sucks!" -Roger McDowell

"Don't worry about not scoring runs tonight. Your offense is so good you'll come out this series and explode ... like that M-80 that I hurled towards a school girl." -Vince Coleman

"Hey, you still need bullpen help?" -Toby Borland

"Just keep 'em off the scoreboard in the first inning next time and you'll be fine." -Tom Glavine

"What the hell is 'e-mail'?" -Kevin McReynolds

Kid Vulture II

Dear Mr. Wilpon,

Now that the Mets have lost two out of three games against the Rockies, I understand that Mr. Randolph is now hanging on by a thread heading into his meeting with you and your son tomorrow.

I would like to let you know that if you indeed decide to fire Willie Randolph, I would like you to know of my availability. I'm only a phone call away, because my contract allows ... ah, who's kidding who. Like it takes a contract to write this blog ... only a commitment (in the insane asylum sense). And I could be in New York tomorrow if necessary. Because unlike Gary Carter, who I understand is also interested in the job, I am in New York right now ... which I believe would be points in my favor.

The comments that David Wright made saying that, you know, there's no spark, there's no fire ... if anything I would love to bring that to the table. You want fire? I hereby promise to take a bat to Carlos Beltran's locker and tell him that if he didn't pick it up, the next swing would be in the general direction of his weak quad muscle. Because that's good motivation. You think Larry Bowa is motivational? I would bring in a small white dog and spray paint it silver in front of the team like I saw a crazy guy do once on the street before he covered his own head with tin foil ... just so the boys would know that I would seriously take a bat to their heads if they crossed me by not hustling. Because again, that's good motivation. They'd know I mean business after that.

Speaking of paint, I would paint my face half blue and half white like in that movie Braveheart? You know? And I would give the most awesome speeches. I would say stuff like "They can take the bunt play away. They could take away the inner half. But they can never take ... our freedom!" You know, because stuff like that is gold.

I would keep the paint on during games too. You want a manager that would go after umpires and protect his players? What's Angel Hernandez going to think when I go out there to argue a fair/foul call with my face painted blue and white while carrying a pointy stick and riding a horse? Angel Hernandez would soil his chest protector at the mere sight of me and my pointy stick! So consider your players protected! (You know, while I'm not going after them with bats.)

While I am indeed fiery, I believe I could adapt to any and all situations because of my versatility. Because while I am part Larry Bowa, I am also part Phil Jackson. You know how he motivates his players with books? I would buy a copy of "Stranding Inherited Runners For Dummies" and leave it in Aaron Heilman's locker ... gift wrapped. I feel it's something he can read and absorb while he's on those long bus rides in the minor leagues. And I could get a discount from Amazon if I buy in bulk in case anyone else needs a copy. See, I'm thinking finances too. I know you and your son can appreciate that.

And as manager, I believe I can show a softer side when the time calls for it. I would reward the players with cookies, Reese's Peanut Butter cups, and trips to strip clubs where Pacman Jones can lecture them on the advantages of restraint. But only if they finished their celery and wheat grass first (no, not marijuana ... I do not condone the usage of marijuana. Another point for me, right?)

In any event, I hope that you will take my over the top campaigning and my shameless self-promotion under consideration. In other words: Your Manager Has Come.

Yours in circling a carcass,



Metstradamus

Not Worth The Paper It's Printed On

I'm guessing we can all agree that the Washington Nationals are the worst team on paper, correct?

And according to Jimmy Rollins, the Philadelphia Phillies are the best team on paper. Right?

Well, I've picked up the paper. Guess what it says:

Nationals 1-6
Phillies 1-6

The Nationals win the tie-breaker and thus are listed on the higher line....Because as we know, the first division tie-breaker is not head to head record, but less errors by players who make silly predictions. Jimmy Rollins' error brought home the tying run for the Mets today in their home opener, and opened the floodgates for the Phillies bullpen to give up six thousand more runs as the Mets won by a score of 6,005-5.

All right it was only six runs in an 11-5 victory. For the Phillies, it only seemed like 6,000 runs. For the Mets, it didn't seem like enough.

Here's my startling admission of the night: I never hope for sweeps. Sweeps, to me, are a lot to hope for. I've got one of those friends who wants to go 162-0 every season. Tells me on the phone: "You know, if we can win 19 of the next 20..." as if that kind of thing happened all the time in baseball. I'm always the one reigning him in, trying to keep his expectations somewhat reasonable so that he doesn't give himself a coronary episode if heaven forbid the Mets only win 6 out of 10.

That being said, I've gotta tell you: I want two more from these guys. I want this team demoralized immediately. I want the entire city of Philadelphia getting out of their houses at 2AM wandering around Logan Square wondering what the hell happened to their team. I want people at Pat Gillick's door with bats and billy clubs waiting for answers. I want Pat's and Geno's to be so disgusted with the Phillies that they pack up and move to New York. I want the Phanatic to wear blue and orange. I the city of Philadelphia to know that the defending division champs are not to be trifled with via cheap motivational speeches.

Yes, I'm hoping for a sweep.

A word about The Amburglar, if you will. You may disagree with me...no, check that: you will disagree with me. But I don't mind the decision to pitch to Ryan Howard in the sixth. Yes, there was a base open, but if you intentionally walk the struggling Howard, you bring up a Met killer with the bases loaded (a Met killer currently hitting .385, it should be noted). Damned if you do and damned if you don't...but Howard hadn't hit anything all season. And up until two strikes on Howard, Burgos proved that you can make him look silly.

But once Howard fouled off the first pitch after the second strike, I started to get a little nervous because Howard was starting to battle, and starting to time Burgos. Amburglar went to the well once too often, and there's no way that an off-speed pitch should have been anywhere near the strike zone...it was like he caught the Mota disease as he kept going to the junk instead of going upstairs with the heat, or throwing the splitter down by his ankles. Except that wasn't Scott Spiezio with his warning track power, that was Ryan Howard with his "I'm in a slump and if I get a pitch to hit it's going to the flippin' moon" power. So instead, we got what Keith Hernandez called "a helicopter slider" or some similar nonsense.

I was upset after the Burgos Bomb, and knew that it would be talked about for a while. But once the SNY crew was discussing the Gary Carter HR from Opening Day '85 I thought "you know what, it's the home opener. Deliciously evil things happen during home openers at Shea (unless it's 2003 and you're down 27-3)"...and I cheered up. And once Matt Smith took over for Wonderboy Cole Hamels, I cheered up some more.

And when Geoff Geary came in for Smith, the smile on my face grew wider than Sidney Ponson's pants size...because we all know the deeper you get into Philadelphia's bullpen, the better the odds that Charlie Manuel's face will turn beet red like his uniform (or those things the Braves wear on Sundays). It was fun to watch Geary walk a 78-year-old man, no? It was fun to watch Jimmy Rollins boot a Jose Reyes grounder to tie the game. And it was lotsa fun watching David Wright blast one off the top of the wall to put the game away in a grand eighth inning which bore seven runs of fruit for us.

And it will be just as much fun to pick up the paper tomorrow and see the best team on that paper in last place.