Because Cleansing Is Necessary

Maybe all of the Mets problems can be traced back to this:


Yup, there's Mookie in a St. Louis Cardinals wool hat to support his son Preston in a World Series that the Mets were one base hit against Adam Wainwright away from being a participant in.

Do I blame Mookie for supporting a blood relative? No. Archie Manning played for the Saints for forty-five years and he still rooted for his son to beat his former team, right? Of course, Archie wasn't decked out in Colts gear but hey, it was cold in St. Louis that night. I blame Carlos Beltran more for letting that first pitch fastball get by him against Wainwright in Game 7 which ended the at-bat well before that curveball ... but I digress.

You had to be around for the rivalry against the Cardinals in the 80's to really feel the sink in your heart at the sight of Mookie wearing Cardinals colors. Think how you young'ins would feel seeing Mike Piazza wearing a tomahawk on his hat, or Pedro Martinez wearing a Phill ... oh, right.

So Mookie Wilson in a Mets uniform again, even as a minor league coach, is the best karma this organization has seen in just about three years. Whether that karma is trumped by Oliver Perez remaining in a Mets uniform remains to be seen.

Life's Tough, So Man Up

It's more than a little unnerving to exit an airplane to this:

"Mets Trade For Burrell"

Of course, it turned out not to be true ... yet. To think, I wasted perfectly good vomit over nothing.

Some have asked me if I could ever accept a member of the charter Hall of Hate club as one of our own if he was traded here, or if I would take that person off the list forever. In Burrell's case I'd consider it. But there's a catch.

Burrell, as you all can probably recite, has 42 career home runs off Met pitching in 634 plate appearances. 634 divided into 5,864, Burrell's total amount of plate appearances, is roughly 9.25. Multiply that by that number 42, you get the amount of home runs Burrell would have to hit as a Met for me to take him out of the Hall of Hate.

388.

Statistically impossible? Considering he'd be playing in Citi Field and not Shea Stadium, and that it would be hard for Burrell to get another 5,864 plate appearances on the other side of 30, well then he'd better eat right and take lots of steroids. Life's tough.

***

And speaking of life being tough, seems that the Mets signed and re-signed Elmer Dessens to help mentor Oliver Perez ... and the signing of Henry Blanco is another step in that direction.

Funny how neither Dessens, Blanco, Pedro Martinez, Carlos Baerga, Mackey Sasser, nor anybody else with "intangibles" needed to be in the room to mentor Oliver when he signed that $36 million contract. Weird, huh?

Man up. Nannies are for infants.

Play 'Em Off, Petey

I can't think of a more fitting ending to this stupid season.

The Mets' official elimination from the playoffs was not a matter of if ... only a matter of when, and how. Would the official death of the 2009 Mets be laid at the feet of another missed base? Another dropped pop-up? Another unassisted triple play? For any other franchise, it would have been bizarre. For the Mets? Cliche.

No, this needed not the bizarre, but something spectacular that was in the stars all along. It had to be Pedro. It had to be Pedro reaching back to his Expo days, throwing eight blank frames in 130 pitches, completing a doubleheader sweep. It was something he hadn't done in eight years. It had to be Pedro, Met hat still on his head as you refreshed the Yahoo boxscore to show you that a guy wearing a Met hat was pitching to another guy in another Met hat.

The Mets have been bum rushed by just about everybody this season, from Ryan Howard to Joel Pineiro to Rodrigo Lopez, and everyone in between. But with the Mets at their last breath, and a throng of thugs ready to deliver the final punch, they all stepped aside to let the former associate do the final deed. Take the gun, Petey ... do the honors.

While I will not sit here and tell you that this game was proof that the Mets should have signed Petey this season, it is the perfect cherry to top this torturous sundae of a season ... listening to Philadelphia Phillie fans chant "Let's Go Pedro". My hope is that the owners of this team, who are probably off toasting their new ballpark at a swanky lounge at this hour just as they foolishly bragged about their new ballpark mere hours after the Mets were eliminated in 2008, are locked in a room and made to watch this broadcast over and over again until their eyes bleed.

And the sound has to be up. They have to listen to those Phillie fans. They have to listen to Joe Morgan morph into Nipsey Russell with his stupid poetry. And they have to hear Steve Phillips wonder if Pedro was going to come out for the ninth inning after a pinch hitter was already announced. Eyes open, ears open ... for the entire three hours. Multiple times a day, until their sufficiently tortured, or at least as tortured as I am at this hour.

The only hope now for the Mets to get themselves a World Series trophy is to have Kanye West storm the October podium and steal it.


There's nothing left to do but play 'em off. Oh, Keyboard Cat ...

Two Thirds, Three Balls, And Six Runs Create The Circle Of Life

Oliver Perez waited on the mound for Jerry Manuel to reach him, no doubt to remove him from his much ballyhooed matchup with Pedro Martinez before Martinez could stroll to the mound. He didn't know what to do. All he knew was that he was being pulled with a 3-0 count on the opposing pitcher, and his career was crumbling around him.

So he walked off the mound, into the dugout, down the tunnel towards the clubhouse. He kept walking. Down the corridor, past the old home run apple, out the bullpen gate, over the chop shops, across the bridge ...

Down Main Street, past Parsons Boulevard, and off he went ... Walkman in tow, to search for the meaning of it all. He heard of the ovation that Pedro received, the inside the park home run, the attempted comeback, and the unassisted triple play. As his head filled with the news of the Mets' latest demise that he caused, he looked up at the combination of cumulus clouds and isolated thunderstorms that signify the mixed bag that was his life. He knew he needed a change. He knew that change would not come in Flushing, where the organization that gave him $36 million dollars was deciding that they would remain status quo for the foreseeable future.

Oliver thought much of the circular nature of life during his walk. Eric Bruntlett set up his historic triple play by making two errors to put runners on, so Bruntlett completed his circle. Of course, that whole inning doesn't happen without his six runs in two thirds and three balls. So where was Oliver's circle? Where could he go to complete his journey? Wandering around looking at clouds while three run homers fly over your head certainly wasn't the path of a thinking man such as Oliver.

AP Alert (New York) - Mets' pitcher Oliver Perez announces his
retirement.

And with that, Perez was officially disappeared. But the competitor in Oliver remained. He would stare out his window that night. And when he wasn't imagining the tooth fairy spreading pixie dust all over the neighborhood, his brain was on an endless search to quench the competitive craze inside him. It was at that moment that he took a look at one of the many newspapers that he had ordered subscriptions to in Buffalo when he was bored during his rehab stint:

"Eureka! If this guy Favor can do it, so can I! I'm going to un-retire and play for the Vikings!!!"

The news conference was, in no exaggeration, bizarre. Capping off a day where news helicopters chronicled the landing of his personal airplane, the Vikings.com server crashed upon the flood of clicks to order a "46" jersey, and the ceremony upon where Perez's jersey said "Oliver" on the back ("I wanted it to be like my idol, Vida Blue"), Brad Childress, Ziggy Wilf, and Perez took the podium in Minneapolis without realizing where Perez would play. Quarterback, after all, was taken. Perez needed a position which was available, and where he would cause the least damage. Long snapper seemed like the perfect compromise.

But it was slow going for Perez, coming into camp mid-stream, learning a new position. Many of his snaps would hit Ryan Longwell in the face. Childress had a problem ... how could the Vikes have a kicking game if his new long snapper misses the holder completely? Surely, Favre can't keep going for it on fourth down. Not even a call to old pitching coach Rick Peterson would help.

BC: Coach? Coach Peterson?

RP: Yeah?

BC: Hi, it's Brad Childress. I want to ask you about Oliver Perez ...

RP: (click)

But then, like a bolt of lightning from the sky, former Viking great Fran Tarkenton agreed to talk Perez through his problems as a special consultant. Tarkenton and Perez would sit around the camp fire, and Fran would tell the most wonderful stories.

FT: Yeah Oliver, I knew a guy who juggled knives, another guy who stayed in a small box for hours on end, and still another guy tried to catch a bullet between his teeth!

OP: Wow Fran, that's incredible!

FT: I know! That's what I kept saying! But don't try this at home.

And with that, Ollie was rolling. Thanks to his new mechanics, and his friendship with Tarkenton, all his snaps were true. Longwell was perfect for the season, Chris Kluwe led the league in net punting average, and Perez was the getting more hits on his player page than any other long snapper on the internet. Life was good. The Vikings were going to Dallas to take on the Cowboys in the playoffs was even better.

There was added pressure on Perez for the game, as he was going to play center in the shotgun formation, snapping the ball to a Hall of Fame quarterback. Tarkenton told him that whatever he did, to be sure to snap the ball high to Favre. It wasn't the kind of pre-game pep talk he was used to from Fran, and he went into the game tight. Sure enough, when Childress called for the shotgun team with two minutes left in the half, Perez went into the game at center ... and had the most brutal athletic competition of his career. His first snap hit the scoreboard. His second snap rolled to Favre. His third snap went so far out of the end zone, it took a great catch by Endy Chavez from keeping the football from going into the first row of the stands.

OP: Why'd you tell me that, Fran?

FT: HA HA HA HA HA!!! I hate that sonofabitch Favre! HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!

OP: Oh.

The Vikes were out of the playoffs. The love affair between Minneapolis and Perez was over. Talk radio was all over him to make a decision about his playing career. It was then that Perez announced his retirement to ESPN's Ed Werder.

EW: Can you say without hesitation that you're retired for good?

Perez: Yeah ... yeah I can. And I'm comfortable with that.

But it wasn't over. After a very brief stint with the circus as a knife thrower, Perez wanted to return to baseball ... and he wanted to return with the Phillies. After the retirements of Pedro Martinez and Jamie Moyer, they were looking for a starter. And Perez wanted to come back to a division rival ... just like Favre did. But unlike the poison pill that the Packers put into their trade with the Jets, the Mets put no such restrictions on the Vikings. If Perez wanted to give up six runs for the Phillies in the first inning, fine by them. Besides, Omar Minaya had filled his rotation need by re-signing Orlando Hernandez.

So Perez returned for more baseball in 2010 ... and fired a no-hitter at Citi Field.

The circle was complete.

The Sun Goes Down Alone

Out on the road today,

I saw a Phillies jersey on Pedro's back.

A little voice inside my head said

"Don't look back, you can never look back."

I thought I knew what love was.

What did I know?

Those days are gone forever.

I should just let 'em go, but ...

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.

I Was Afraid Of This

So the Mets basically told Derek Lowe that if he thinks he could get a better offer somewhere else he should go for it.

He went for it, and apparently he's going to get it.

So I ask you this: What's the consolation if Lowe does indeed sign with Atlanta and the Mets don't budge from their initial offer? And I'm not talking about who the Mets sign in his place. I'm talking more along the lines of whether the fact that the Mets were

• stingy,
• frugal, or ...
• responsible

whatever you want to call it with their money will help you sleep at night when Lowe is doing the tomahawk chop. Will you still think that the Mets played the market right and will you be content in the fact that the Wilpons didn't throw extra money around in this economy?

(Editor's note: I italicize "in this economy" because I'm about near the point of puking my guts up after the thousandth time hearing that phrase.)

This is why I was worried when the Braves struck out on A.J. Burnett (and Rafael Furcal). They were going to have money to spend on someone. And now their spending spree might cost the Mets Derek Lowe. So for that, I guess you can partly blame the Yankees for signing Burnett. (Now now Metstradamus, you learned about argument fallacies in college and now you're leaning on one yourself. For shame, wayward blogger.)

But this was a case where the Mets should have taken a page from the Yankees book. The Yankees blew everyone out of the water for CC Sabathia right from the beginning, and that's when everyone started grumbling about New York and how their irresponsible. And I'm not saying the Mets should have offered Lowe $60 million more than he was worth. But when Boras and Lowe said they were going to go elsewhere, an extra six or seven million over the length of the deal at that point might make a team like the Braves think twice about even making an offer, instead forcing them to grumble about the economics of baseball and about how New York is evil. But now they're firmly in the mix with the money originally earmarked for Burnett, and the Mets have to play catch up and pay more than they would have if they had just thrown in a little extra from the start.

Instead, they're sitting out in the cold in front of the building like Ralph Kramden was when he and Alice were kicked out of the apartment for not signing the rent increase, and all Ralph could say is "I've said it before ... and I'll say it again ... that man is bluffing." And maybe Boras still is bluffing. This could be the reverse New York theory. Instead of bringing in the New York team to goose up the price, he's using a New York rival to goose up the price for the New York team. Boras probably knows teams' needs as well as their insecurities as well as anyone. He's playing it like a fiddle and he knows it. I'm just saying that a little good faith ... not much ... could have avoided all this. Because you may think you're bidding against yourself, but with Scott Boras that's never really the case.

Now there are some who think that getting Oliver Perez back would be the better option anyway ... upside and age being the major factors. Besides, better the devil you know, right? More than fair. But if Perez becomes the play, I'm sure there will be fans who feel that the Mets didn't really move forward with the rotation. After all, Perez is kinda "been there, done that, bought the t-shirt". And if the Mets aren't going to get the discount on Derek Lowe because he prefers to play in the northeast part of the country, the Mets sure as heck aren't getting a discount on Ollie if he's the only option out there for a top flight pitcher. So then the choice becomes overpay for Ollie, or sign Randy Wolf and pray that he's the next Kyle Lohse.

(At which point whatever God you pray to laughs hysterically and points Pedro Martinez towards the Florida Marlins.)

How Could C.B. Bucknor Screw The Mets From 604 Miles Away?

All told, the Mets got the short end of the stick on bad umpiring tonight.

I'll explain:

First the Mets got a gift from Gary Darling in the second as he called Josh Anderson out on a play at first when he was clearly safe. Anderson would have scored on Martin Prado's double, but instead Prado was stranded harmlessly to keep the score at 3-0 Atlanta.

The Braves got the break back as Brandon Jones was called safe on a steal of second when he was clearly out in the sixth ... and Jones would then score on a single by Anderson so the Braves got the run they should have gotten in the second. I can't get on Bill Hohn for the botched call ... from where he was standing there's no way he could have seen the tag which was in time. My complaint on the play is this: I was surprised when Ruben Gotay wasn't called for interference for bringing his bat back into Brian Schneider's throwing zone. The bat clearly got in Schneider's way.

But that was borderline, so let's call the previous two plays even ... which means the Mets completely deserved their 4-2 loss tonight (a loss in which Jorge Campillo, let's face it, was lucky to be alive after the Mets hit a bunch of balls right at people ... when Pedro Martinez whacks you for a two run double you have problems. Then again, when Pedro Martinez is your entire offense you have problems.)

The tipping point was in Miami, where C.B. Bucknor, known for such hits as "Runners Interference" and "Obscure Lines In My Rulebook" (available on Ronco Records) completely botched a play at the plate where Jorge Cantu clearly was safe as he slid through Carlos Ruiz's leg on a play at the plate. It was in the eighth inning, and of course Cantu was the tying run. Instead, the Phillies defeat the Marlins 3-2 to jump back into first place.

Umpires 2 Mets 1

But thankfully, and most importantly, the Brewers are chum. So at least if the Mets break our hearts, they'll most likely fall into the mild card, and not the golf course. I'd go further into why it would be a good idea to win the division instead of the mild card ... but of course if the Brewers were to catch the Mets after my detailed analysis then I'd have to live with it the rest of my life, and my life doesn't need that scarlet letter.

All My Rowdy Friends Collapsed On Monday Night

You're going to tell me now that I'm supposed to be excited that Bobby Parnell had a scoreless inning in his debut?

Well if that's the only choice I have, I guess I'll be on board. Because there's nothing else to be excited about after tonight's 7-2 debacle at the hands of the putrid Washington Nationals. Certainly not Pedro Martinez, who was one out away from getting through his six inning outing with only two runs tacked against him, but instead is continuing his descent into the ordinary. Used to be that Pedro would muddle through a game, but knew when that last batter was coming and would dial it up to finish strong ... especially with runners on base. Tonight, sixth inning ... runners on second and third with Anderson Hernandez at the plate (you know the one who hit under .200 in New Orleans this season), and Petey couldn't put him away. (Gee, an ex-Met killing us? That neeeeever happens!!!)

Certainly not the Mets offense, who somehow turned John Lannan from lamb to lion in just one week. He was a lamb against the Mets last Tuesday, lion tonight as the Mets "resilient" offense could only knock one hit off him tonight.

And definitely not Filthy Sanchez, who came in and only had to get one freakin' out in the seventh after Ricardo Rincon came out of seclusion to get the first two outs in the seventh without incident. Then, in came Filthy to put out the fire once and for all:

Walk, single, home run, scorched earth.

To think the rookies dressed like Michael Phelps yesterday. Dressing like gold medalists seem a little bit out there for this bunch. Investment bankers, I would have believed.

***

I loved that Matt Yallof asked Lee Mazzilli during the pre-game if Pedro Martinez has it in him to step up because ... "you've played against him for years." Of course Mazzilli played against Pedro ... in Playstation. Because as you know in the real world, Mazzilli was retired for three years before Petey made his debut in '92.

Oh, Matt must have meant "managed" against him for years. One problem: it was only one year. Pedro pitched with the Red Sox in '04 while Maz was the Orioles manager ... and Petey gave up 22 earned in 24 innings against Baltimore that season.

In actuality, Mazzilli only "bench coached" against him for years ... which is kinda the same as "well, I was in the park and saw him pitch a lot". Yeah, Maz and about 25,000 others. There's some perspective you can't find anywhere else.

P.S. Maz thinks that Pedro needs Shave Zone ... tough guy.

***

There's actually a precedent for what happened to Ned Yost yesterday (by the way Ned, thanks for showing up against the Phillies ... proving once and for all that you can't depend on a choke artist to help prevent a choke of your own ... that's like hiring Robby Alomar to be employed by the New York Chamber of Commerce), and you're familiar with it if you're a New York sports fan.

The 1989 New York Rangers were battling for a division title with 15 games to go in the season. Coaching them was Michel "Le Petit Tigre" Bergeron, famous for his hot goalie system and his hot temper. Bergeron's Rangers went 3-10 when, with two games left in the regular season, GM Phil Esposito fired Bergeron and took the coaching reins himself of a team that was headed, albeit while limping, to the playoffs.

The Bergeron/Esposito relationship mirrored the Steve Phillips/Bobby Valentine relationship in certain ways near the end of their two year relationship. Certainly, the relationship between Bergeron and his players kinda looked like the Valentine/Player relationship. I can only assume that things were completely unmanageable between the Brewers clubhouse and Ned Yost if this move was made at this point. Heck, if it was the choking itself, there were plenty of opportune chances to fire Willie Randolph down the stretch last season.

(Editor's note: Esposito did no better than Bergeron, losing the final two regular season games and then getting swept in the first round of the playoffs by the Penguins. So I wouldn't expect this firing to really make a whole lot of difference unless things were really as bad as some think in that Brewer clubhouse. The moral to the story is, don't f***ing get swept by the Phillies and maybe you can keep your job.)

While You Were Out

So here I am in the Meadowlands thinking I was going to be far away from any bullpen problems the Mets would have (and as I saw courtesy of my DVR, they indeed had their problems before finally winning.) But when Paul Raymond dropped what would have been the winning touchdown against the Redskins, and Mike Nugent hit the upright on a field goal at the buzzer (who the hell plays for the tie in a pre-season game ... oh, right. It's the Jets) can you blame me for thinking that Raymond and Nugent were kidnapped, tied up and left in the upper tank of the Meadowlands, and replaced by Aaron Heilman and Scott Schoeneweis? I mean, the Jets closed out that game as if they were ... well, the Mets. Can you be positive that didn't happen? Maybe that wasn't Heilman warming up in the bullpen in the ninth in Pittsburgh. Maybe it was a C.I.A. operative. Maybe it's part of the intricate plot to keep Billy Wagner on the disabled list for a few extra days. Uh-oh, I've said too much.

At least the Phillies lost. And Brett Favre looked good. Not quite Pedro Martinez good, but good. Conspiracies aside, not a bad day.

Symphony, Tragedy, And Cutlery

You ever get the feeling that the Mets bullpen could be a ride at Disneyworld?

Seriously, I know people that have been on the tower of terror so many times that it bores them. The Mets bullpen is the new Tower of Terror. Guaranteed to slay your spirit.

This may have topped 'em all. A Pirate team in town for one game on a rainout make up game ... a team that was 1-348 on the season when they give up the initial lead on the road, and was down 4-1 to Pedro Martinez and the Mets after six innings. It was a symphony.

Then came the bullpen. Tragedy.

And then the cutlery ... that needs to be kept out of my possession (along with all shoelaces and belts).

It's never good when the game plan of a bullpen is "Hey, let's not let Luis Rivas beat us!" But that's how they pitched to him ... like he was Luis Aparicio.

And you know what, silly me ... and silly everybody ... thinking that Aaron Heilman's problem is that he gets down on himself and mopey when he doesn't pitch important innings. Aaron Heilman's problem is that he stinks to high hell. There's no psychology involved. Freud can go back to his therapy couch in heaven and aim for a more realistic goal. There's nothing more he can do.

For the rest of them? If you subscribe to the theory that these clowns aren't successful because they're in the wrong roles with Wagner out ... a theory I don't subscribe to (poor babies), but if you do, then shouldn't Eddie Kunz, who's closed in the minors, be closing? But I don't know. I'm stupid to begin with, and I'm running out of answers. I just hope that the Mets relievers don't take side jobs as knife throwers in the circus. They'd kill people ...

... in the audience.

Appreciation

"I can't believe we're happy to see Billy Wagner in the ninth" -overheard at Shea Stadium Wednesday night.

It really was a funny scene at Shea on Wednesday. Now Billy usually hears the cheers when he enters with the help of Sandman. But they're usually of the "we love you but don't screw this up" kind of cheers. After Tuesday night's debacle, the cheers sounded eerily like "thank you Billy ... don't you ever leave us again". Kinda like when the one guy in sales that knows what he's doing goes on vacation for a week and all the accounts are shot to hell and then the competent one comes back and everybody in the office tells him "you're not allowed to go on vacation, ever."

That's how Mets fans greeted Billy Wagner. Please, please, please don't ever leave us in the hands of Filthy Sanchez again. Really, we love you. We can't live without you.

It almost never came to that as the Mets had trouble putting Brett Myers away (we hate you too, Brett) ... where one well-placed hit could have sent Myers back to the minors, the Mets continued to leave a ton of runners on the bases against the man who threw as many balls as strikes tonight. Heck, the Mets scored their first two runs on the "strength" of no hits.

But the good part is that for once in their feeble little lives, the Mets actually scored runs against the Phillies bullpen. Joy! And it was Jose Reyes that did the deed with a three run dinger against Ryan Madson in the sixth, giving the Mets their three run lead that they would ... this time ... hold on to thanks to Country Time. Now the only thing to wait for is certain radio personalities to complain that Reyes had his finger up almost all the way to second base on the home run.

***

Hey, the price for Xavier Nady has apparently come down. After two straight nights of Marlon Anderson turning fly balls into circus acts in left field and being late on fastballs, I say "huzzah!" (Whatever the heck "huzzah" means.)

***

If you're the religious type, say a prayer for Petey this morning.

10 (Cue Bolero)

Your season looks a whole lot more beautiful doesn't it? Throw in a 10, a lot of things will seem more beautiful.

So, those of you who were complaining that David Wright and Billy Wagner were less than overwhelming* during the All-Star Game ... would you rather they pulled that tonight against Cincinnati? Would you rather David Wright's game tying blast off of Frankie Cordero had come against the American League? Would you rather Billy Wagner had gotten Evan Longoria out instead of the 6-7-8 hitters of the Cincinnati Reds?

What do you like better, home field advantage in the World Series ... or first place?

Yeah, I would have liked both too. But I guarantee you when Wright blasted that dinger off of Cordero that nobody was saying "damn, I wish he had done that on Tuesday." I'm the grumpiest Met fan on earth and I was dancing on the table. If I was dancing on the table, I guarantee you were too.

"It's now the first day that I can say without fear of backlash that you're going to have a tough time convincing me that both this team and this season aren't a complete waste of time." -Metstradamus/July 4th, 2008

Umm, yeah. Ten straight wins has convinced me.

It was an outcome that didn't seem too possible when Johan Santana got bludgeoned with a five run fourth inning and was lifted. It didn't seem possible when Javier Valentin crushed the Mets again with a sacks clearing double to make it 8-6. And it sure as heck didn't seem possible when Ken Griffey Jr. turned Fernando Tatis around with a screamer in the eighth, and you could clearly see my brother in the front row of the outfield stands bow his head in disgust.**

But then came the all-stars. First Wright with his poke off of Cordero to tie the game. Then, Carlos Delgado doing his Kosuke Fukudome impression*** with the bat to give the Mets the lead with a nice little single to left center. Then came the other all-star ... Country Time. 1-2-3. Count it off all the way to 10.

*That was a good pitch Evan Longoria hit in the all star game. I can't "Kill Bill" for that.

**Actually, my brother bowed his head because he dropped his cell phone. What you read was Hollywood license.

***Somebody I know thinks that Carlos Delgado should alter his swing to be more like Kosuke Fukudome. Whenever I try to wrap my head around that line of thinking, I get cramps so severe that I have to call out sick. It's worth noting that on April 30th, Fukudome was hitting .327, while Delgado was hitting .198. Now, Delgado's at .254, and the Chicago cult hero is at .276. I'm not sure what exactly that signifies, other than that I'm starting to get those cramps in my brain.

***

Oh, by the way ... you, as a Met fan, have to appreciate the irony of the announcement of Pedro Martinez's start being pushed back by injury coming on the same day that Orlando Hernandez injured himself on the first batter of his rehab stint in Binghamton. But this also comes on the same day that the Phillies made their deal for that big pitcher they've been waiting for. And it's the 5-12 booed out of Oakland Joe Blanton. While I feel the Mets dodged a bullet that the Phillies dealt for Blanton instead of A.J. Burnett or Matt Cain, it only means that Blanton will go 3-0 with a 1.12 ERA against the Mets down the stretch.

One Hit Wonders

That was the greatest pitched game by five pitchers in Mets history.

A one hitter? This bullpen? Picking up for Pedro Martinez after his shoulder got stiff? This is the same Pedro Martinez that would have been 23-2 in 2005 had it not been for Braden Looper ... and he's getting bullpen help?

Meanwhile, the Mets have won eight straight, and could actually hit the break in first place. What alternate universe did I step into, exactly?

Yeah, Sorry If You See This Title On Every Mets Related Blog Tomorrow, But: "They Win The Damn Thing 10-9"

Multiple people wondered if I was still alive after the ninth inning. But to be honest with you, Mets losses lately have desensitised me to the point where I think I just would have laughed if Werth had hit a home run to complete the comeback. But yes, Virginia: they win the damn thing 10-9. Santa Claus lives ... and he's wearing a Pedro Martinez jersey. (Would you believe that Pedro's stellar pitching was eclipsed by the fact that his RBI to make the score 10-1 was the difference in the game?)

Not that tonight's 10-9 win held a lot of similarities to the 10-9 win in Philadelphia in 1990, when the Mets had a 10-3 lead in the ninth yet needed a line-out to Mario Diaz with the bases loaded to end the game. But in that game, the catcher for the Phillies was Tom Nieto. And he had three RBI's.

So if R.J. Swindle becomes the Mets pitching coach in 18 years and then gets fired mid-season, then you can cue the Twilight Zone music.

And yes, to reiterate: Tack-on runs = good. Thanks to Dan Iassogna being convinced by the other three umpires that he is ... in fact ... blind, the Mets needed every single one of those runs. Stupid lousy umpires.

You Are What I Eat

So I had a barbecue chicken sandwich from Boston Market today. It was delicious. But near the end of the first half of the sandwich, I got one of those pieces of chicken cartilage that must have gotten in there mistakenly ... and I gagged some of it up. Trudged on after a delay to get hungry again, I ate the second half of the sandwich. While being happy that I didn't gag on anything else, I was looking at the loose pieces of chicken that had fallen off the sandwich at some point, and among the rubble, I found a bone. So my chicken sandwich experience had a gag job, ended good, but could have been the demise of this blogger.

Sunday's Mets game was, on paper, that chicken sandwich.

Oliver Perez was the first part of the sandwich. Then there was the two hour and fifty minute rain delay. Billy Wagner (Mr. All-Star) provided the gag job (I wonder if Oliver thought that Country Time should have battled a little bit more). And then, Fernando Tatis and Joe Smith came through with the delicious ending which had all the potential to end in an extreme choke job (the bone) that might have ended me once and for all.

(Editor's note: The above isn't a made-up, alcohol induced analogy. All references to the chicken sandwich are not purely coincidental. And names have not been changed to protect Boston Market. The story you just read is real.)

And since we had the beginnings of a scintillating discussion about the "clutchness" of Carlos Beltran two posts ago, it's worth noting that without Beltran's RBI single in the ninth to give the Mets a 2-0 lead (and pick up the un-clutch in the ninth inning David Wright in the process), Jayson Werth's home run would have been the death blow, and these New York Mets would have been toast. So all praise due to Beltran for a clutch hit which turned out to be more important than we thought. I maintain though that a cleanup hitter in his prime should be doing that slightly more often. How much better would the Mets look today of Beltran could have only delivered in, say, two other spots this season when presented the opportunity (Friday night, for example)? Just two? But Beltran deserves a world of credit, along with your praise, this afternoon.

(I would also like to re-iterate the warmth my heart received due to the throwback relief job that Smith did in winning the game while pitching the last 2 and 1/3 innings, mostly without a net. Tug McGraw would have been proud.)

Despite losing the pitching mismatch of Johan Santana vs. J.A. Happ, if Pedro Martinez can somehow pull out a victory over noted Met killer Adam Eaton (I'm resigned to the fact that it's going to have to be a 1-0 win folks), then even I can't complain about taking three out of four in Philadelphia, even if it was the hard way. Nothing comes easy anyway ... not even a chicken sandwich, apparently.

World Of Hurt

Hey, I don't want to be the grumpy one all the time. In fact, I'll go so far as to say that even though it took a rain delay to make Pedro Martinez seem whole again, I'll say that I saw enough out of Petey to believe that he does in fact have something left this season. Even though he stunk in the first inning as per usual (.407 BAA against in the first inning this season), and had his usual problems in the fifth (.520 in the fifth ... much better), I'll always be reluctant to bury Petey until he walks off the mound for the final time, cradling his rotator cuff in his glove hand.

(Editor's note: This blogger made the same mistake with Tom Glavine before he had two decent seasons at an older age than Pedro.)

And I do suppose that I was heartened by the Mets coming back from an early 4-0 hole to take a 7-5 lead in the seventh. Guts and fire ... great. But good teams show guts and fire, and then not give it back. The Mets haven't proved that they're anything above mediocre this season. And the disheartening thing about last night's disaster was that the big blow came off of a pitcher who has been one of the rocks of the 'pen in Pedro Feliciano. And a lefty batter at that ... albeit a lefty batter that has rocked him on a grander stage.

(Editor's note: Also seen in both last night's game and the 2006 NLCS: Carlos Beltran striking out looking in a big spot. Last night it was the top of the eighth with a runner on third and one out at 7-5 Mets. Beltran's next up in the "keep 'em fresh" day off rotation.)

But Chris Duncan's home run only tied the game. Then came the ninth. And admit it ... admit it right now: before SNY went to commercial after the top of the ninth, and you saw Carlos Muniz make his way out of the bullpen to face Albert Pujols, Rick Ankiel, and Troy Glaus, you got that sinking feeling in your stomach that Muniz was in the same position as all of those no-name ensigns on Star Trek that got killed on all those missions going out with Kirk, Bones, and Spock. Sure enough, Ankiel came within a few feet of winning the game before Glaus did the walk-off deed and sent Muniz back to New Orleans with not so good memories.

Ron Darling was asked after the game if the Mets would rather lose like last night than a 7-1 lifeless dud, and he said something to the effect of "no way ... they've had lifeless duds all season. Last night was much better." It's a non-aggravating way of saying "at least they battled". And that's what it has come down to.

But here's your perspective alert of the night: As much as we complain, take solace in the following:

• The Mets are only 4.5 back in a mediocre division.
• They have a four game set with the Phillies coming up.
• At least the Mets aren't moving.

Don't take that last one lightly. They say if it could happen to us, it could happen to anybody. And before ground broke on the Brooklyn Dodgers Shrine (Ebbets Queens), I firmly believe it could have happened to us. Yes, there are nights like tonight I wish the Mets would have moved to Oklahoma City (many of those nights coming in the last ten months). And no, I have no first hand knowledge of any discussions the Mets might have had in the last ten years about possibly moving to another market. And despite my natural leanings towards conspiracy theories, those discussions probably never existed.

But no ... considering this city's history with franchises exiling to California, I assume nothing. So yes, I'm thankful that what happened to the Seattle Sonics has not happened to the New York Mets (despite what happened last night). So I leave you with this:



(Editor's note: What I really hoped to find was an old Mello Yello commercial which featured former Sonic Gus Williams. The above was the closest thing I could find. Sorry.)

Sad Panda

I should be worried more about the fact that a Mets offense can score 15 runs at 2:00, yet can't score after eight o'clock against Sidney Ponson despite filling the bases against Sidney in the first few innings like they were allegedly pouring drinks for him the night before a start (remember, I said allegedly).

(By the way, I knew some guys who couldn't score after eight. It was sad.)

But I worry more about Pedro Martinez. After the fifth inning, when Snoop Manuel was talking to him in the dugout, Pedro had this droopy, defeated look on his face. Every time I've seen that look from Pedro, he either cried or was on the disabled list within 24 hours.

Now I was convinced during this conversation, which took place after the fifth inning at 0-4 down, that Petey was done for the night. Snoop even made a motion towards Pedro as if to say he was done. I obviously misinterpreted the hand motion (wouldn't be the first time ... it once caused me not to score after eight.) Because Petey was right back out there for the sixth inning, where he gave up two more runs to turn a manageable deficit into garbage time in a 9-0 loss in the dual stadium nightcap.

Opponents are batting .336 against Martinez this season. That means that Petey is making the entire league hit like Tony Gwynn (and I'll have you know that's not just a random reference ... Gwynn was a career .338 hitter). And that's not even taking into account the walks, which his pushing his WHIP ever closer to 2.00. Heck, I'd look sad too, not only because the Yankees "adopted him" yet again, but 'cuz them there's some dangerous numbers. Much like the dangerous numbers which say that the Mets couldn't score off of Sidney Ponson after scoring 15 runs in the matinee. The Mets couldn't even tack on a garbage run against Kei Igawa. Heck, even that would have been a moral victory for me.

Instead, a day which is yet another microcosm of the Mets season. Some good ... some bad (very, very bad). Although I'm sure Pedro would love to experience some of the "some good" already. His body of work this season isn't making anybody hopeful. But the upside is that his problems seem to lie in his command and not his velocity. Yeah, command has always been his strength, but at least it can be worked on. A lack of velocity usually signifies physical problems. So it's a little something to be thankful for.

Big picture: I wanted three wins this series, which basically means putting all my chips on Johan Santana on Saturday, and then letting it ride on Oliver Perez the next day. That's no way to make a living if you're a gambler.

Back With A Venegance (If You Can Call It That)

I was originally going to title this entry: "Boy Do The Phillies Stink". There's a headline that would have gotten me a few hundred more hits on this here web.

A headline that would read more accurately, like "Phillies Struggles Enable Mets To Climb Back Into Race", doesn't exactly have that "juice". Also, it's too long. So to you Phillie fans whose eyes are all bulging while reading this, and getting ready to call me every nasty name in creation, calm down and go back to your cheesesteaks. Your team is still quite awesome.

But even the most insane of the Philadelphia lot would have to admit that their team hasn't been that awesome in their last seven games (1-6), and a funny thing has happened because of that. Week one of the Jerry Manuel era has seen the Mets gain three games on the Phillies. It's not that the Mets have been tearing up the league ... Gangsta Ball is only 3-2. But the Phils are 0-5 in that time, and their little mini-slump has tightened the division and brought the Mets to within 3.5 games ... coincidentally this week of all weeks, exactly when the Mets needed it. Just enough to string us along, and keep hope alive.

The Phillies recent struggles (with Chase Utley and the rest of the bats, of all things) remind me ... and should remind you ... that this is indeed a long season. And I don't mean in the "dammit, when do the Jets open training camp" kinda way, but in the "I gotta stop having a conniption fit when the Mets lose three in a row" way. The Mets go down the roller coaster, then they go up the roller coaster. And every once in a while, the Phillies hit an air pocket and the Mets are back in the race. It didn't seem possible when I woke to the news that Willie Randolph was fired on a sunny Tuesday morning.

But in a world where we're slowly learning to trust Mike Pelfrey more than we trust Pedro Martinez, then I guess anything is possible. (Of course, that includes losing two out of three to the worst team in baseball, starting Monday night.)

***

Jerry Manuel is bizarre. Either that, or he's been reading some of those Zen books that Rick Peterson left behind. Consider:

Asked how the struggling Heilman was holding up under constant booing at Shea this year, Manuel said: "It's very, very fertile ground for growth in Shea Stadium. It's fertile ground for a team's growth and development. Sometimes, fertile ground has fertilizer ... Fertilizer is a good thing," Manuel said before the Mets' afternoon contest against the Rockies. "It's a good thing. You get the greatest results - get the most beautiful plants - when you put it in that type of fertile soil. That's what we have the opportunity to do."

***

Sadly fitting that while writing a baseball blog entry where I mention the Jets, I find out that the man who gave us "Baseball vs. Football" is gone.

In baseball, the object is to go home. George Carlin has gone home.

Of course, considering Carlin's many bits on religion, I'm not quite sure where home is for George. But here's hoping that wherever it is, that George Carlin is indeed, safe at home.



Rest in peace. You were one of the greats.

The Special Assistant: Baseball's "Other Woman"

Soothsaying is a curse.

As I've been discussing the possibility of Omar Minaya losing his job at the end of the year if the team he has assembled remains a .500 squad (or under ... where the Mets returned to Saturday night as Pedro Martinez had some predictable problems with the spacious outfield in Coors ... pelted with the silver bullets of Garrett Atkins, Brad Hawpe, and the Colorado Rockies), then the guy I would want to come in and replace him was the recently disposed Reds GM Wayne Krivsky. After all, Krivsky has been the guy to bring guys like Edinson Volquez (albeit at the price of Josh Hamilton) and cultivate pitchers like Johnny Cueto ... he would be the perfect guy to have one eye on improving the farm system while at the helm of the New Mets, which have become the old Mets (and breaking down Mets as ... hey guess what, Jose Valentin is Alou'd for the season).

Well, whaddaya know! Guess who is now a proud member of the New York Mets organization as the ... ahem ... "special assistant" to Omar Minaya? That would be Wayne Krivsky. Needless to say, I got a good laugh about that one.

Krivsky started the season with a "special assistant" in Cincinnati. You know him as Walt Jocketty. Since a baseball special assistant exists to assist in replacing the general manager if he can't right the ship fast enough, it couldn't have been more transparent that Jocketty was brought to Cincinnati to provide that "special" assistance to Krivsky ... as in: assist in heating the hotplate being occupied at the time by Krivsky.

Krivsky has obviously learned the trade, as he is now the "special assistant", and now he will show us all what he learned from Jocketty as he "assists" Minaya. Of course, Krivsky isn't out for blood, same as Jocketty wasn't out for blood in Cincinnati. But Krivsky is brought on by the ownership to provide that friendly little reminder to Omar he shouldn't hang any more posters in his office with super glue.

Remember Omar, as I always like to say: just because you're paranoid doesn't mean somebody isn't out to get you.

(Of course, as I head to sleep, I do so with the full knowledge that I will probably have a nightmare that I'm reading the first official press release of Krivsky's tenure, which includes the quote "We feel that Gary Majewski's injury problems are behind him and that he can be an important part of the Mets bullpen." Sigh.)