Timing Is Everything, And Pat Misch Doesn't Wear A Watch

Nice day you picked to pitch a complete game shutout, Pat. On this Yom Kippur prelude where the revised schedule had the Mets, Yankees, Jets, Giants, and the Rangers all playing at the same time, it's quite possible that you could fit everyone who watched all or part of your gem in the Marlins locker room, with room to spare for everyone in the stands. Of course, when you gave up eight runs in eight minutes, there was nobody to take away your spotlight as it shone with the intensity of a thousand fires on you, and only you.

Game of your life? Get in line. You're fifth on the runway for takeoff. As we all know by now, such is life. But it's no reason not to have a party to celebrate the occasion. So scale your catch, debone it and fry it. Set a place for Hanley at the table while you're at it, and make reservations for him to complete next week's foursome since he'll need a tee time soon.

But don't wear your costumes to dinner. (Really? Ken Takahashi has to wear a costume for rookie hazing? He's a man! He's forty!!!)

Free Flowing All Star Hostility

I would have thrown a brick through my television after the American League's latest All-Star victory ... but I had already thrown the brick through the T.V. when I was watching a replay of the 1995 game earlier today, and Robby Alomar pinch ran for Carlos Baerga.

Oh, and a second brick finished the job when I realized that in 1995, Jose Offerman was an All-Star.

I don't know what's worse. Jose Offerman appearing in an All-Star game, or Angel Hernandez getting to umpire in one. What, was a hallucinating squirrel not available?

And count me as the millionth person who has complained about this, but how can we have a dedicated camera to get a shot inside the nostrils of some actor from Fringe, but no camera available to show us if the President of the United States threw a strike on the ceremonial first pitch???

Or was that camera sent to stake out Brett Favre's workout for the Vikings? Please, FOX, get out of the baseball business and stick to your little Dow Jones reality show where you mix stock tips and beer. ("Buy Apple! Hiccup ...")

Now it's all good, because all Tuesday means is that the Phillies aren't going to have home field advantage in Game 7 when they win the World Series in five games and drive me over the edge for good. But seriously, that starting lineup the N.L. put out there outside of David Wright must have been put together by Satan himself ... Hanley Ramirez? Chase Utley? Albert Pujols? Raul Ibanez? Shane Victorino? Yadier Freakin' Molina? All on one lineup? Whoopie!!!

Man ... if Larry Jones had started instead of Wright I would have had a drink with those Happy Hour guys to commemorate it. (Get me a vodka stinger with a Clorox back, and step on it!)

Photo Essay

Hey, it's the week in pictures!

Amazing what Oliver Perez can do when he's not on the Ted Higuera training regimen.

Hey, hanram2 uses Twitter! (Yeah, I think this Twitter thing is way out of hand too.)

The book for Mets fans who like to read. You mean you haven't picked it up yet? It's the perfect Opening Day gift. (Which begs the question: Why hasn't Hallmark produced "Happy Opening Day" cards yet? Probably because Bud Selig hasn't found a way to mark them up 300% and profit off them yet.)

If David is going to grow a mustache like these guys want him to do, I'm voting for Rollie Fingers and the handlebar ... all the way. This way, the next time he throws one into right field, the mustache wax residue on his fingers gives him a built in excuse.

Besides, don't you want to see David stroll into the opener in Cincinnati looking like this guy?

It's got "international incident" written all over it.

Hanley Plus Insanity Equals Hypocrisy

It's time to get cranky again, kids.

You may recall a piece by Gerry Fraley that was referenced in this blog and in others. He was basically noticing (inventing?) a difference between the reactions of Hanley Ramirez and Jose Reyes at the idea of dropping to third in the order. Ramirez was painted as the ambitious one, while Reyes, of course, was portrayed as the "passive-aggressive" immature one.

You remember how the piece started:

A difference now can be found between Hanley Ramirez and Jose Reyes, a pair of gifted 25-year-old shortstops. Both were offered the same proposition this spring: move from leadoff to third in the batting order. Their responses were telling.

Ramirez quickly warmed to the idea of batting third for Florida. "That means I'm dangerous," a grinning Ramirez said. "All the good hitters bat third, fourth, fifth. I want to be around those guys."

Reyes took a passive-aggressive approach, saying without a hint of enthusiasm that he would hit where the club wanted him to hit. Reyes' reluctance spoke volumes.

Well, now that we have some late breaking developments regarding Hanley, Fraley can now write another article with the same premise. lucky for him that I'm here to help him get started:

A difference now can be found between Hanley Ramirez and Jose Reyes, a pair of gifted 25-year-old shortstops. Both were offered the same proposition in their careers: better grooming. Their responses were telling.

Reyes, in response to Willie Randolph's no facial hair edict in 2005, said nothing and acted like a professional.

Ramirez took a passive-aggressive approach to Fredi Gonzalez's no long hair/jewelry rule this spring, saying without a hint of common sense that he wanted to be traded, and made it clear through a sharpie-scrawled message across his chest that he was "sick of this s**t." Ramirez's reluctance spoke volumes.

Yeah, I'm not expecting this piece to actually be finished either.

I'm going to ask you this: Imagine the reaction here in New York if Reyes had done that. I gather it would be a lot more harsh towards Jose than what they wrote in Florida towards Ramirez. Is a rule demanding ballplayers cut their hair and not wear jewelry on the field ridiculous? Yes it is. I'm not going to disagree with anyone who says that. And Hanley had every right to disagree with the rule.

Is it bizarre to institute a rule like this after you've already been managing the club for a good amount of time? Sure it is. At least Randolph started his managerial career with that ridiculous rule, and if ever there was a team that needed to be reminded that the inmates do not, in fact, run the asylum, it was the post-Art Howe New York Mets. And yes, I've taken Jose to task over some of the publicly immature things he's done. But which is more incredulous: slamming your glove down on the ground after an error, or writing obscenities across your chest with a sharpie and demanding a trade over a haircut?

This is a team leader doing this. Yeah, he's young. But that doesn't earn anybody any passes in New York.

Seriously, if I saw a guy with writing on his chest with a sharpie walking towards me, I'd cross the street.

But Hanley Ramirez does it, and he's a victim of Fredi Gonzalez's tyrannical ways.

Meanwhile, if Jose Reyes were to do it, Wallace Matthews would write about how Jose should be in jail for the rest of his life (while juxtaposing him to Captain Jeter, of course.)

(And for reference: If Manny Ramirez were to do it, the SportsCenter set and the entire ESPN facility would collapse onto itself, and John Kruk would be forced to eat Steve Phillips' leg under the rubble to survive ... that's how big a story that would be.)

But Hanley? No no, poor Hanley. We shouldn't curtail Ramirez's insanity sense of style with silly rules.

I want everyone to remember this the next time Jose Reyes gets glazed, marinated, and placed on a rotisserie with an apple in his mouth in the press over some minor lapse in judgement. It's called perspective, boys and girls. And even in this economy, it don't cost much. So be sure to pick some up.

Petey, Victor, And Dying A Little Inside: A World Baseball Tour Of The Tortured Mind

Sometimes when I'm "away", it's because I've got nothing of value to say. But sometimes when I'm away, I'm actually away, which is why I have some random thoughts from the past few days, centering around this World Baseball Extravaganza.

First off, let me say that it can be really confusing not only for people who watch these games, but for the people who watch the people who watch these games. I, for example, was on an airplane on Wednesday watching the Netherlands (no, their baseball spikes aren't wooden) play the Dominican Republic. And at the same time that I'm rooting to see the upset, I'm also watching Pedro Martinez pitch and pumping my fist with every 91 mph tailing fastball he was throwing. This prompted my wife to ask me "who exactly are you rooting for?"

And that's the problem with this tournament. There are Mets and their enemies playing for every team (think how weird you felt when J.J. Putz chest bumped Brian McCann after the USA defeated Canada), and teammates facing off against each other. It's like an intense LSD trip where Davey Johnson is managing again, and Bert Blyleven is teaching A ball pitchers his big curveball while Sidney Ponson is offering me peyote.

(But what made me the most unhappy about that first Netherlands/D.R. game was Steve Phillips laughing and joking about how he traded Nelson Cruz away from the Mets and now he's a good hitter. Meanwhile, Metstradamus dies a little inside ... That, and the fact that we had to deplane during the bottom of the ninth, so I had to wait to check into the hotel to find out that the Dutch pulled off Upset Part One.)

First, you have David Wright playing with Jimmy Rollins. And I love how Derek Jeter sits between them in the lockerroom and he's being painted as Kissinger to Wright and Rollins. This is the same Derek Jeter who has had chance after chance after chance to make sure that Alex Rodriguez was accepted in that Yankee lockerroom, but instead let A-Rod twist in the wind because of an Esquire article. But he sits in between Wright and Rollins and he's Alfred Nobel. Okay. Jeter is the greatest captain in the world. Much better than Cats. I am a sheep. I will believe everything I read. Baaaah. Baaaah.

And not only did you have Jose Reyes playing with Hanley Ramirez, but you had Jose Reyes playing with Miguel Olivo, who you remember from their brawl in 2007, started in part because of excessive celebrations by the Mets. So it was funny when Olivo hit his second home run of the game against Panama, and he came to the dugout with a ... wait for it ... choreographed home run handshake!

Gasp!

But now Jose Reyes is back in Mets camp, thanks in part to an error by Hanley Ramirez during Upset: Part One. Way to go, Hanley.

***

Oh, and speaking of dying a little inside:

First, I gotta watch Victor Zambrano throw a pitch so bad that I'm convinced that Kevin Youkilis swung at it on purpose because he knew he'd reach first base on the strikeout (Youkilis acted like he was upset with himself but I'm convinced that was part of the rouse.) Then in his second appearance, he almost hits David Wright while instrumental in beating the States. (Can you imagine Wright being out for ten weeks with a broken bone off a pitch thrown by the hand of Victor Zambrano? I'd start chugging Drano Bombs on the spot.) And you know that this potentially could mean that Omar Minaya is taking a look at him as long as Tim Redding can't get out college players. Resist, Omar. Resist!!!

(At least Freddy Garcia improved against those same Michigan Wolverines. Out-freakin-standing!)

***

Then there's Frankie Rodriguez, who had this to say about the Venezuelan media after saving Venezuela's victory over the States last night:

"They're trying to stick it to us. You ask anybody in that clubhouse and they'll tell you the same thing."

I didn't know Wallace Matthews was Venezuelan.

The Florida Marlins: Behind The Blow

Well, another red letter season has come do an end (and that red letter is F ... I'll let you figure out what that stands for.) And believe it or not, I still have s**t to say. The following is one in a series of random stuff I'm throwing against the wall about person or persons of my choosing. These are your New York Mets: Behind the Blow.

Somebody asked me if I was going to put the Marlins organization on the ballot for the annual Hall of Hate vote in 2009, after knocking out the Mets in 2007 and 2008. I can't do it ... because in '09, they end the season in Philadelphia instead of New York. So we might need them.

Now when they inevitably lie down and die against Philly to give them their third straight division title, then I'll think about it.

By the way, the Marlins have re-signed Wes Helms. I just thought I would mention that.

For close to four full seasons, I've tried like hell to point out the crimes of baseball: Suit-wearing casual fans invading ballparks. Shane Victorino being the Theo Fleury of baseball. Brett Myers hating the Mets and being an otherwise pillar of society. Cody Ross waiting to yell at Mike Pelfrey until he was a safe distance away from him. Hanley Ramirez and his intense jealousy about New York that festers into hate. Wallace Matthews' writing about the Mets as if he's that kid who's three feet shorter than you that keeps daring you to hit him.

Baseball criminals all.

But the worst part about the Mets spitting the bit two years in the row is that I can't keep the criminals out anymore. They've stormed the castle and they're drinking our alcohol. And I have nary the energy to argue with them anymore. Shane Victorino? You're not obnoxious at all ... you're gritty and gutty. Myers? You are a pillar of society. Cody Ross? Yeah, you're absolutely right ... how dare Mike Pelfrey's fastball run inside. Hanley Ramirez? Yeah, those days where you have hundreds and not thousands of fans at your football stadium? New York's fault ... totally. Wallace Matthews? You're completely writing what's in your heart, and not trying to break records for negative comments ... totally. Jimmy Rollins? You're right. Baseball needs more robots. How dare we show emotion? Bandwagon fans who get their tickets for free and know nothing about what they're watching? Sure, pose for pictures during play and block my view. What do I care? I'm just a paying customer ... which is latin for "sucker".

Though I will say that the new shirt that the Marlins are selling on their website has gone a little too far.

Also available in black or teal.

(Updated Editor's note: And with this, the venom is back. Because we need Joba Chamberlain's f***ing hat in the hall of fame to encourage the bloated legacy of a guy who hasn't pitched 150 innings in his career ... but he's a Yankee so let's all bow!!! But before you get upset about the lack of items from Shea Stadium's last game in comparison to all the Yankee items, don't be so sure that the Mets hadn't sold everything to the highest bidder already.)

The Greatest Game Ever Played (On A Friday Night In The State Of Florida)

Did Friday's incredible win remind you of something?

Did you see a little Lenny Dykstra in Luis Castillo as he started the rally with two outs and nobody on?

Did David Wright remind you a bit of Mookie Wilson when he continued the rally?

Was Carlos Beltran's grand slam part Keith, part Darryl, and part Ray Knight all rolled up into one?

You can be forgiven if you saw Jeremy Hermida and Hanley Ramirez reach base and all of a sudden see Davey Lopes and Bill Doran roaming the bases ... or if Mike Jacobs looked an awful lot like Glenn Davis ... or if Jorge Cantu's long fly ball down the left field line which would have won the game all of a sudden made you see Billy Hatcher jog backwards down to first base before Cantu's ball went foul and you were allowed to breathe again.

You can be forgiven because we've pretty much waited for this kind of thing from the Mets all season long ... October magic in August was that lacking ingredient last season, and Friday it returned in all its spectacular fashion. Of course, it wasn't without its corresponding headaches as Luis Ayala threatened to go Jesse Orosco all over Miami.

I might be reaching with this comparison, but you have to realize one thing from my perspective ... that there was another parallel between October 15th, 1986 and August 29th, 2008: I fell asleep during both games.

Only in '86 I had it timed a little better: I had come home from school dead tired for that 3PM start and tried like hell to stay awake, but after the Astros had taken a 3-0 lead I must have thought that Game 7 was inevitable, and unconsciously became, well ... unconscious. By the time I woke up, I kid you not, Lenny Dykstra was leading off the ninth inning. So you can say I really didn't miss a whole lot.

Friday night, same deal. Wright strikes out with the bases loaded in the seventh and I'm done. I sleep with the TV on so that if something big happens, most likely I'll wake up to it. I must have been extremely dead because from the time Cantu misplayed an easy ground ball in the eighth until Jacobs was up in the ninth, I was dead to the world. Not even a grand slam was enough to shake me out (and Gary Cohen gave it the double "outta here" ... and I still didn't wake up. Whoa.)

In fact, for some reason I had it in my mind that 2-1 became 5-2 because of two runs in the eighth and two runs in the ninth. (Obviously, I had created my own ball game while I was asleep.) But truth, as always, is stranger (and more dramatic) than fiction.

(Editors note: You know what else contributed to that '86 feeling? It was the football markings on the field. They were all over the Astrodome ... and it was those football markings which forced that NLCS to start and end in Houston when the Mets rightfully should have had home field advantage. It's just too bad that more of the home fans didn't show up Friday ... I mean, Maroone Honda sales draw more customers. But hey, more seats for Met fans. Oh well ... maybe they'll show up Saturday. I hear Mike Scott's supposed to pitch.)

Deepness Is Spreading

In a world that seems strange ... a world that seems to conspire against you, what with Paul Lo Duca jumping up about a hundred games in the standings and joining the Marlins for the express purpose of getting a key hit during the last game of the season to knock the Mets out of the playoffs, and Juan Samuel being inducted into the Phillies Wall of Fame during the same week he got a write-in vote for my Hall of Hate, take comfort that Daniel Murphy is on your side.

Murphy, batting .500 entering the game, is already receiving the respect of his peers, with Fredi Gonzalez going lefty-lefty on him in the sixth and bothering to bring in Reynel Pinto to face the rookie. That Gonzalez would be willing to burn a pitching change on a rookie is respect. That Murphy would make that move go up in flames by going deep to provide the margin of victory in an 8-6 win is cause for rejoice.

And that Brian Stokes would be the latest character from the minors to come up with a decent effort after I made fun of him just proves that maybe I should just learn to shut the hell up every once in a while and stop complaining about every low level minor league trade. Heck, he's the only Mets pitcher I've seen this season brush some hitters back, including Hanley "Waaah, I don't get as much coverage as Jose Reyes" Ramirez.

Although that's probably because he was wild and not because he was staking his claim to the inside of the plate. Oh well. I'll take it.

Killer Fish

Yeah, this fish is ugly ... ain't it? Kinda like last night's game, with those fish.

Well good morning to you too. Now that you're awake ...

I didn't have a real good feeling going into that eighth inning ... as sloppy a defensive team as the Marlins are, they do have a habit of pulling through in late innings. I didn't expect the eighth inning to be quite as ugly as it was ... but that's what happens when Scott Schoeneweis comes into the game and faces more righties than expected. Three of 'em got hits. The other one was Hanley Ramirez. That's still no way to convince the brass you shouldn't be traded for Marcus Thames.

(But seriously, don't trade Scott Schoeneweis for Marcus Thames.)

But really, you could see this coming when John Maine was taken out of the game in the fifth with "shoulder stiffness", in what was at the time the strangest injury ever ... with Maine telling Jerry Manuel he was fine during John Baker's at bat, and then giving up a dinger to Baker on the next pitch, and then being lifted after the next hitter. Maine was pissed. He had that "Mike Piazza going after Guillermo Mota" look in his eye. But he finally did admit he was hurting. It's either not a good sign ... or it's an explanation of his latest struggles. In any event, that makes two injury riddled starters out of five. Which means those hoping or expecting the Mets to use their latest run as a springboard towards an easy pennant race should probably temper their expectation a wee bit.

Jose Reyes Says Screw The Establishment, I'm Going Sean Avery All Over Baseball

Perhaps it's true that I have a Sean Avery fetish these days. But you can't blame me for having Avery on the brain with the Rangers up 3-1 on the Devils in the first round ... thanks mainly to Avery and his goal scoring. Of course, all anybody will talk about is Avery's face guarding of Martin Brodeur during Game 3, which was a gallant attempt to help the Rangers win (and until the next day, not against the rules ... so take that, establishment.)

I once compared Avery to Endy Chavez, in terms of pure record when the two are in the lineup. Now, the more apropos comparison would be Jose Reyes. Avery hacks people off on the ice with his nastiness and ornery nature. Jose Reyes ticks some people off in the baseball establishment with his exuberance ... hand slaps and dances.

That is of course until the beginning of the season where Reyes, in response to some in the baseball community poo-pooing his natural "high on life" state, decided to tone it down. And where did it get him? It got him a .205 average after nine games.

He learned a lesson. He learned that part of being effective is to not deviate from who you are. So guess what? The old Jose Reyes is back. And in two games, he's upped his average 87 points with six hits and a home run. So the whiny, easily offended portion of America's baseball establishment that wants to complain and be envious of Jose's hand slaps and dances and act like baseball is in the 1950's with firm handshakes at home plate is just going to have to deal with it.

(I'm looking at you, Hanley Ramirez.)

Parallel Shoes

The way that New York Rangers defenseman Marek Malik has been booed out of the Garden this season, the prevailing thought in my head lately has been that Malik has become Guillermo Mota on skates.

With Endy Chavez's new two-year contract secured, a similar link has made itself evident: Chavez is Sean Avery in cleats.

You may say that Sean Avery has never had a catch like Endy Chavez had. Others may say that Endy Chavez has never had a catch like Sean Avery had. The similarities don't end there. The Rangers were 21-6-6 after acquiring the sandpaper game of Avery, and were 12-5-1 with Avery in the lineup before he was injured around the start of 2008. The Mets, meanwhile, were 45-26 in '07 with Chavez in the game at some point. Without? 43-48. Both do the little things that help their team win, yet both have battled injuries lately that have limited their effectiveness.

But just as the Rangers are a different team without Avery in the lineup, it was painfully obvious that the Mets were a different team without the late inning defensive heroics, the basepath speed, and the occasional 3-for-4 of Endy Chavez. So even though Chavez has received a deal with as many years as injured hamstrings, I'm sure you'll agree that Endy Chavez in the fold is necessary, even at the risk of having to deal with chronically debilitated hamstrings which possibly (maybe even realistically) could mean that Chavez may never be quite the same player again.

Now if we can get Endy to do some push-ups at home plate after hitting a home run, then the similarities would be creepy. Though I sincerely doubt that Endy Chavez will ever be the most hated man in baseball as Avery is in his sport. Besides, the Mets are already the most hated team in baseball ... but that's just in Hanley Ramirez's house.

Fan Mail

Dear Hanley,

I know you wanted to show us how good a shortstop you are, and prove that you are deserving of the press that Jose Reyes gets.

Mission accomplished. Whoever didn't know how good you are in New York, now know.

So stop it. Please.

Yours in baseball,

Metstradamus

P.S. Please tell Larry Beinfest that if he dares trade Miguel Olivo to the Braves just to screw with Billy Wagner, I swear I'm going to fly to Miami and kick him in the crotch so hard he'll be spitting urine on Moises Alou's hands. Thank you kindly.

(Damn!)

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