This One Cuts Deep

This is what happens when Raul Valdez's glass slipper breaks.

Well now the season is truly underway, isn't it? Now that the Mets have had their first true kick in the stomach, we're now officially wading waist deep into the season. There's no turning back to shore now. It's onward to the ocean floor without a life raft.

For me, I think we're now starting to see how a front office and a manager can lose ballgames. Omar Minaya, bless his heart, having been hamstrung by ownership's budget, couldn't bring in a quality lefty for the bullpen to complement Pedro Feliciano. Instead, he borrows one from the Mexican league. Nobody, not even Gary Cohen had heard of Raul Valdez when he made his spring training debut in mid-March. Despite that fact, he made the Mets roster ... which tells you something about how easy it must have been to make the roster.

But when you keep relying on Mexican league castoffs when your ace bullpen lefty looks like death, you're going to get burned more often than you should in a 162 game season. You aren't going to be burned all time time, but in a league where the difference in talent can come down to a few pitches here and there (like the one Valdez threw to Felipe Lopez for the deciding grand slam), you will be burned enough times to make the difference between being in contention for a wild-card spot, and battling the Nationals for fourth place. This is why the Phillies can survive injuries to Jimmy Rollins, Joe Blanton, J.C. Romero and Brad Lidge and go 8-2, while the Mets have Raul Valdez.

Also, when you consistently rely on the likes of Mike Jacobs and Fernando Tatis, you will be burned. But when Jacobs is placed higher in the order than the white hot Jeff Francoeur by the manager, then there's plenty of flame to go around. Jacobs ended the Mets' first inning rally with a strikeout with Frenchy on deck. Then, with Dennys Reyes coming in to face Jacobs in the all important eighth inning rally, Tatis comes up to pinch hit and he strikes out. The alternative would have been Frenchy batting in that spot and facing the righty, Blake Hawksworth.

(Wait a second ... Blake Hawksworth??? Come on. That's not a real person. That was the name of a villian in "Spenser: For Hire". Or Joan Collins' love interest in "Dynasty". Or a Peter Griffin muse in "Family Guy". I mean, are the Mets this bad that they can't muster up a rally against a fictional character???)

Now don't get me wrong. Ultimately, it's players who win or lose ballgames. I believed it when Willie Randolph was making questionable moves/non-moves with the bullpen, and I believe it now. But the people in charge aren't helping any. Friday night was proof.

The shame of it all was that the good Oliver Perez actually showed up to the ballpark tonight. We haven't seen Good Ollie for a long time! For all we know Good Ollie was on a Himalayan expedition since 2008. And this is how he gets treated upon his return? He'll never come back after this. He was shaky in the first couple of innings (walking the immortal Allen Craig in the first inning with first base open and some guy named Pujols on deck had me inventing new curse words) but finished brilliantly. Oliver Perez did this.

And yet, the fruit of his labor was the pumpkin that Raul Valdez's limousine turned into before midnight could cast it's shadow on St. Louis. It was so bad that I wanted to vomit voluntarily ... but there wasn't an 11-year-old in the immediate area so I passed.

So George Santayana Walks Into A Bar ...

Somewhere, in a saloon overlooking the afterlife, M. Donald Grant is ordering a boilermaker while Dick Young turns to him and says "Oh no he didn't!"

How bizarre was Monday's news conference?

James Dolan was embarrassed.

Heidi and Spencer thought it was petty and vindictive.

And Wallace Matthews was ... right.

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. George Santayana, a Spanish philosopher, said that. And right now, he's at the same bar as Grant and Young buying the next round and having a huge laugh over the New York Mets, who continually refuse to learn from their mistakes too numerous to mention. I make plenty of mistakes too, and I made one today at about 2:30 upon learning that the Mets had called a news conference to announce the firing of Tony Bernazard. You see, I had the post in the can. It was called "Can You Feel A Brand New Day". Had an "exclusive clip" of the news conference featured on it. I even played it a few times and did my version of a happy dance to it. Because this should have been a day of rejoicing ... not because a human being was fired, but because just maybe, an organization that we all care deeply about was about to do the right thing and climb out of the abyss. Here's a small sampling of what I wrote in the post that will never be published:

"We're going to look back on the Bingo Mets incident where we now think of it to be an embarrassment, and see it in the future as the best thing to happen to this organization, because it got the ball rolling to get this done and get a guy like Bernazard out of the organization. I don't like to see people fired, but this was absolutely necessary and unavoidable ... kudos to the Mets who have done the right thing for the first time all season."

But I had a fleeting thought as I wrote that. I thought that somehow, the Mets are going to take this good news and taint it when the news conference actually starts. Only thing is that I had envisioned the wrecking ball to hit the newser in the form of: "We also have a trade to announce ... "

But when the right thing actually went so horribly, horribly wrong, I could have never imagined it going quite this way.

You know what happened at that point. Omar fired Tony Bernazard, and then in a bizarre twist, went on to tell the world that Daily News reporter Adam Rubin had been "lobbying" for a job in player development with the Mets for two years, and also imply that Rubin ... well, I'm not sure what he implied. Did he imply that Rubin wrote all the things he wrote to get Bernazard fired to take over for him? Or that Rubin wrote all those stories to get Bernazard fired to get revenge for not getting a job with them?

Predictably, when Rubin pressed him on it, Minaya didn't have a good answer for him. You expected something different with this franchise?

It was fascinating to catch this all on live television ... with the double box camera on Rubin right before the bombshell as if somehow, SNY knew exactly what was coming out of Minaya's mouth at that point. It was reality television that didn't need a script as today's reality television often needs to stay relevant and "hip". This was reality television so compelling, you found people that normally don't give a hoot about the intricacies of baseball keeping their remotes tuned to "The WheelHouse".

Is it right to be skeptical of Rubin? Sure ... at least in the way that we should be initially skeptical of anyone whose motives aren't apparent at first glance. After all, we live in a society where we've been burned so often by lies, fraud, and ponzi schemes that if Watergate had happened today, half the population would be digging into the past of Bernstein and Woodward to unearth some application they've filled out to apply for the office of President.

But I can't think of one thing that Rubin has ever burned Met fans on ... whereas I can think of various investigations, injuries, and broken bones that have given Met fans various ailments, rashes, and broken bones from punching the wall as they realized that they had been had by Mets management again. Besides, Rubin's initial reaction ... caught expertly by that second SNY camera whether by happy accident or by receiving some "keen insight" ... seemed about as genuine as they come along with his further reaction in front of other reporters when he became part of the story. I can't guarantee that Rubin's story is true, but I go by what I see and what I know, which is what we all see and know. And that's to trust that the propaganda that comes from the Mets organization is to never be trusted.

For example, the assertion that human resources was already on the case with the Bernazard story long before Rubin's articles were published, somehow implying that the club would have come to the same conclusion without Rubin, and that they wouldn't have spared Bernazard's job. Know this about human resources departments: the reason they exist first and foremost is to protect the big boys, to keep top ranking executives out of trouble. The interests of the low level workforce is well down on the list. The notion that the Mets' human resources department was going to come up with a report that would have put Bernazard out on the street is absurd.

But Bernazard is out on the street, thanks in large part to Rubin, who should be praised at this moment for excellent reporting ... instead he finds himself squarely in the center of a three ring circus for no good reason, whether he ever sent a resume to the Mets or not. The Bingo Mets incident should have been the best thing to happen to this franchise. It may still be. But right now, it only became the thread sticking out of the quilt that may become a full fledged pile of yarn when it's all said and done.

To state the obvious, Omar Minaya made himself look like a vindictive child on this one, for reasons we'll never know. If Minaya had made this a paper statement ... if he had used the same method of electronic mail that he used to let Rubin and others know that Willie Randolph (whom you couldn't blame for having a huge smile on his face right now) had been fired, the worst that would have happened would be the media accusing Minaya of trying to sweep this under the rug and not face the media to talk about it. But that probably would have made up 5-10% of the total reaction of the beat writers. Minaya should have come out of this as the good guy. It was a slam dunk.

Instead, he's placed the target squarely on his back when it didn't need to be. The target is especially big and bright when you consider that Minaya needed to have a second press gathering to apologize for the first one ... when there shouldn't have been one at all. And in this second gathering, you had Minaya apologizing not for what he implied, but that he implied it in a public setting. Meanwhile, you had Jeff Wilpon basically saying that the conversations that Rubin had regarding career advancement were impromptu and common, and that Rubin did nothing wrong (after all the writers who have worked for the Daily News that have gone on to work for the NHL or the Yankees, of course he did nothing wrong). So there you have it: a manager and an owner, standing in the same room, telling two different versions of the same story. And I'm supposed to be skeptical of Rubin?

Again, you expected something different with this franchise?

Yes, it was truly a bizarre Monday ... the least bizarre occurrence being Fernando Tatis not hitting into a double play as a pinch hitter with the bases loaded. And when that's the least crazy thing to happen in 24 hours, then it's been a mind-blowing 24 hours.

So belly up to the bar, getcha popcorn ready, and be prepared for the final act of the big top to unfold over the last two months of the season. Because remember, whenever you think it can't get worse, it always does. Brand new day? More like same old stench. George Santayana would like to remind you that those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it ... and that you're buying the next round. (You see the afterlife isn't much different from your present form: the fans always get stuck with the bill.)

The Jinx Continues

Hideo Nomo. David Cone. Tom Seaver. Nolan Ryan. Dwight Gooden. Mike Scott. Jim Bibby. A.J. Burnett. A sampling of names who have pitched no-hitters after leaving the Mets organization.

Al Leiter. John Candeleria. Frank Tanana. Hideo Nomo. Dock Ellis. Warren Spahn. Don Cardwell. Kenny Rogers. Scott Erickson. These are players who had no-hitters in their resumes before coming to the Mets.

On Thursday, Mark Buehrle created his own category: Pitchers who spun perfect games after I write a post suggesting we trade for him. (The picture will look very familiar.)

I don't bring this up as a "see, told you so" point ... oh, who am I kidding, of course I am. After all, how many times am I right about anything? Once? Twice? I have to milk this for the little it's worth. But it is worth very little. Because when it's all said and done, if the Mets had made the deal I suggested, not only would Buehrle not have a perfect game or a no-hitter for the Mets, he would have been arrested well before today for selling arms to the Dominican Republic or something.

But here's the real point I'd like to make: If you haven't seen the highlights of the perfecto by now ... if you were at a wedding reception on a Thursday or you were on a safari expedition, or maybe you were just finishing up your three week boycott of ESPN because John Kruk had the gall to say that vegetables were overrated, check out the catch that led off the ninth inning. Considering the surrounding situation, it was probably one of the most spectacular clutch catches ever in life.

Think about it. Defense, for a guy who doesn't have 17 walks in 17 innings. Imagine that.

Duly noted, Dewayne Wise was a ninth inning defensive replacement. But do you realize how many errors have been made this season while Buehrle's on the mound? Four. F*&$ing four ... in 134 innings. I'd be willing to guarantee that part of that has been due to Buehrle's habit of working quick and throwing strikes, something Oliver Perez doesn't do, and keeping his defense on its toes.

But here's the wacky thing: Keeping in mind that Perez has pitched about 100 less innings than Buehrle, the number of errors the Mets have made this season while the maddeningly wild Oliver Perez is on the mound? One! One error, all year. You know who committed it? That's right, Daniel Murphy. Hard to say that was the fault of Perez. So guess what? Perez actually has received good defense behind him this season.

Which means that when you have a guy who has 38 walks in 38 innings, maybe defense is the least of his problems!

***

Since Buehrle is the order of the day, I want to talk about a recent quote of his:

"If I could just put a Cardinals jersey on for one day, throw one pitch, that would just be a dream come true."

It's relevant because for years, it seems like it's either been the dream of players to play in St. Louis, like Buehrle (a Missouri native), or that good players come play for the Cardinals and they fall in love with it there, such as Mark McGwire, Jim Edmonds and, probably soon, Matt Holliday.

If the Mets have any hope of regaining a little of that momentum, they have to fire Tony Bernazard.

It's a valid point to say that now that Bernazard's in the news, there's more of a mob mentality to fire him simply because he's in the line of fire and he's the man who's front and center in the tabloids right now, representing a team whose fan base is looking for a scapegoat. But who better to be a scapegoat than Bernazard? His firing certainly wouldn't be without merit. This is a guy who has a reputation that precedes him. This whole Bingo Mets thing isn't an isolated incident. He's had his hand in trouble for this organization from the beginning, from botching the original Carlos Delgado negotiations to manipulating Willie Randolph out of his job to all the dopey shenanigans this season. That it's beginning to bubble over now only magnifies the problem, not merely starts the problem.

(I mean really ... a hand gesture? Thin-skinned much, Tony?)

So firing Bernazard is as much about reality as it is about perception. But make no mistake, it's about perception too. And as you know, perception is reality. To keep Bernazard after the Bingo Mets incident, whether it's overblown or not, would send the absolute wrong message from an organization who has been handing those out like candy lately. And forget the fans, how do you think players around the league are perceiving the Mets right now? If Carlos Beltran is furious at the organization at the way they handled his injury, much like others have been (Ryan Church, anyone), don't you think this is going to affect the decisions of prospective free agents? If the Mets have become a running joke among their fan base, I can only imagine what a guy like, say, Doc Halladay must be thinking.

(And by the way, what kind of message does it send to all the working stiffs out there who are losing their jobs simply for being alive during a recession to keep this guy on the payroll despite acting like a moron?)

Keeping Bernazard tells players and fans that pre-existing relationships, yes man sycophants and "good old retread networks" are more important than putting the best people in the best position to get the job done. And that's not a message the Mets need to put out there after what's happened to this franchise since Game 7 in 2006. Yes, if the Mets are five games in first place then the Bingo incident doesn't mean as much. But the placement in the standings means everything. Their placement in the standings is completely relevant, because it's gone on long enough where you can realistically say that 2006 was the fluke.

And that's not even mentioning that Bernazard is the VP of Player Development, and nobody's developing anything except meniscus tears and bone bruises. Think about it this way: Fans have come up with the refrain that "You know, I'd like to see how other teams fare after losing their best players to the DL." Well, the Angels are now 10-2 since losing Torii Hunter and Vladimir Guerrero. They've also been missing Kelvim Escobar for over a month, and didn't have John Lackey until May 16th. Not to mention they tragically lost Nick Adenhart in April. The team is 56-38.

Do you know who their VP of Player Development is? No? Well neither do I because he or she isn't out ripping off his or her shirt in the locker room of the Arkansas Travelers and getting his or herself in the newspaper.

It's all about perception and reality. In many ways, they're one in the same. And both perception and reality dictate that Bernazard has to go.

(Editor's note: The Angels director of player development is Abe Flores.)

***

And finally, John Maine might miss the rest of the season because of his injury. In other news, studies show that water can make you wet.

First Dogpile

Can you hit a punching bag that is hitting .387?

All right, all right ... so he's more like slapping .387, but a slap looks like a hit in the boxscore. And two slaps and two RBI's look like the first walk off hit and the first dogpile at Kitti Field as the Mets took a 5-4 decision from Willie Randolph's Brewers, and Castillo avoids punches and scorn for a few hours.

More firsts: Gary Sheffield provided not only the first 500th home run in the history of the park, but I believe the first curtain call as well, which is something you can stump your friends with in ten years or so. (I don't believe that David Wright was called out of the dugout after tying the game on Monday but if he was, I'm sorry. Don't kill me.)

I kept thinking about our friend Wallace Matthews, and how he basically called Mets fans suckers for daring to get excited about Tom Glavine's 300th victory back in '07. And I'm wondering if he's doing the same thing now that Mets fans at the park dared to cheer for the first player in history to hit his 500th home run as his first for a team. At least Glavine was with the team for a good four years when 300 happened. 500 was just as odd for me as I thought it would be. I'm just glad the home run was a big one and not a dinger that made the score 9-3 Brewers, setting the stage for Castillo's walk off.

The weird part came for me afterwards, just as the ninth inning started and I'm trying to do something on my e-mail account, and I swear to you the following message pops up:

"Oops ... the system encountered a problem (#500)"

Is that a higher power telling me to lighten up on Sheffield? Okay, I'll give him this: He's said and done all the right things, and the team seems to have received him warmly after the home run. Maybe he's having that Dewey Cox epiphany where he's reflecting on his life and is ready to write that masterpiece he kept promising his brother's spirit, or in Sheff's case, maybe his uncle Doc? I don't know. For Gary Sheffield, the beautiful ride at the end of his baseball road need only consist of behaving ... as he's done so far to his credit. Home runs, even milestone ones, are gravy.

***

In an unrelated story, to welcome Randolph back to New York, Omar Minaya had a pizza delivered to Willie's hotel room at 3AM.

***

I now have a valid reason for being disgusted with the black home uniforms: For some reason, they make the dopey hideous patch stand out. I hardly noticed them on the white ones.

***

Irony? It's when the "durable" catcher is on the disabled list.

He's My Guy All Over Again*

Reunited ...

And it feels so good.

*Mota is a free agent. Perhaps he can sign with Seattle, and Randolph can follow him there too.

Jerry Manuel: 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.

Call it a crackpot theory if you wish, but I find it weird that mere hours after it's reported that the negotiations between Jerry Manuel and the Mets to become the official Mets manager were hitting a snag as Manuel was digging in his heels, a report comes out that Bobby Valentine would be happy to come back to manage the Mets. Then, mere hours after that, a deal is done.

I'm on to you.

But now that "Gangsta Ball" is back for the long haul, the true test begins. You haven't heard a hint of bad word from a player about Jerry Manuel. Of course not. Manuel did some good things, and some different things from Willie Randolph. But let's face it: you would have replaced Willie Randolph and gotten good results. The divorce between the players and Randolph was needed ... and the first few months between Manuel and the roster is reminiscent of those first few months of a relationship: passionate, warm, and thankful that this new boyfriend or girlfriend isn't like the last one.

Except that it was like the last one when it came down to September, which a lot of people hung on Manuel like last one was hung on Willie. But the constant in both seasons are the players ... the same ones who win and lose ballgames. And they're the same players who could cost Manuel his job somewhere down the road if the relationship between them and Manuel goes south. That's the challenge for Snoop in 2009. Now that the honeymoon is over, how will he keep the roster that he's given motivated and happy without the glow of just having replaced somebody not popular with the room?

And that's why nobody should be surprised if there's another slow start in 2009 ... especially if the roster remains relatively similar to what it was last season. That responsibility rests on someone else's shoulders ...

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.)

Now You Will Know My True Self

Remember the South Park episode where Butters was fired from the group of friends because he was too lame ... and then Butters went home and was so bitter that he developed the alter ego: "Professor Chaos"?

I have this picture in my mind of Willie Randolph at home watching Monday night's game and seeing Carlos Delgado pounding away (.728 OPS 9 HR's 28 RBI under Randolph, .925 OPS, 17 HR's 52 RBI since ... not including the two dingers and six ribbies tonight) and Mike Pelfrey morphing into Roy Hallapelf (3-6 under Willie, 10-2 since ... including his second straight complete game tonight) and making the decision to don the tin foil and become "Manager Chaos", forumlating a plan to get revenge on his former club for not overacheiving under his watch ... while sneaking into restaurants and switching people's soup in the meantime. So if you're in a Philadelphia diner this afternoon and you ordered Tomato Bisc and instead get French Onion, you'll know ... you'll know.

But I know how Willie will get his revenge. It's either going to involve the upcoming two game series in Philadelphia (maybe he'll try to flood the earth and broadcast an evil message on the scoreboard like Professor Chaos did at Coors Fied) ... or he's going to work his underground connections to make sure the Mets make a trade for a certain pitcher that has recently been seen passing through waivers to help replace the recently DL'd John Maine.

Trust me, you don't want to know which certain pitcher I'm talking about ... unless you're masochistic. If you are, click here and find out. And if it does come true, remember Manager Chaos. And if it doesn't come true, it'll be because he was told that the Simpsons already did it.

It Could Always Get Worse

The one thing that always bothered me about Willie Randolph was the fact that he wouldn't go out and protect his players while they were getting into it with umpires. So you'll forgive me for being excited when Jerry Manuel went out to protect Carlos Beltran in his argument with the highly unprofessional Brian Runge (isn't nepotism wonderful), and then got ejected for "getting" bumped. Of course, Beltran went and got himself run anyway for saying the magic word (which according to Beltran was the highly toxic four-letter word "weak"), but at least finally the team has escaped the tyranny of the stoic arm folding of Willie Randolph and are on the same page with its manager.

Except that page they're on? It's in a book that has ripped pages, pages with mustard stains on them, the glue in the binding is coming apart, and the paperback cover has been stolen. In fact, the book that tells the tale of the 2008 Mets' season will do more to promote illiteracy than Officer Barbrady ever did. Who wants to read after that?

In the long run, it's nice to have team harmony. It's nice to have a manager stick up for you. And despite Beltran's refusal to take the bait of the beat reporters after the game and say that yeah, Willie Randolph never went and stuck up for us so he basically lost us, you can't say for sure he wasn't thinking it. But team harmony, however nice it may be, unfortunately means nothing when your lineup at the end of the night have averages of .293, .258, .205, .230, .148, .254 (which was .224 to start the night), .265, and .234, and can't do anything off of Robert Allen Dickey or Rodney Allen Rippy.

Oh, and your starting pitcher makes Barry Zito look crisp.

(Editor's Note: Kenji Johjima, a .218 hitter with two home runs this season, hit a bomb off of Oliver Perez.)

To sum up, the Mets lost 11-0 ... to the worst team in baseball. Yes ... to be the worst you have to get beat by the worst. Our team, at this time, has hit yet another rock bottom. I can't imagine a lower plateau unless Newtown High School suddenly appears on the schedule. (Don't laugh: they're over .500 unlike a certain other team that plays in Queens.)

Felix Hernandez's Bat Is Bigger Than A Honda

I guess I have to be the cranky one ... again.

Disclaimer: Felix Hernandez was the first American League pitcher to hit a grannie in 37 years. It led the way for a 5-2 Mariners victory in the first of a three game series. Good for him. Beat us single-handedly.

Did he really need to take an hour and a half to Cadillac around the bases? I mean, was he scared of busting up his foot trotting the bases hard because pitchers aren't designed to run the bases? (By the way: Hank, we'll stay in the 19th century. Your pitchers can hit just fine, thanks.)

Of course, nobody ... and I mean nobody ... will call Felix Hernandez out on it. "Awww, Felix hit a home run. How delightfully cool. It's the first grand slam by an A.L. pitcher since the 19th century. Why be a killjoy and ruin the moment?" I'll tell you why. Because in a world, and a city, where a goofy Jerry Manuel quote regarding fertilizer can be twisted into "the new manager calling Met fans s**t", you know that say ... a Johan Santana home run Cadillac trot would be all over the tabloid sports shows and Johan would be the new symbol of evil and somebody from one of the local newspapers would immediately call Goose Gossage for an interview and he would say "see, told ya ... the evil slow trot of Johan Santana is going to make people mad and motivated to beat the Mets". So yeah, I'm going to be the one to get on Felix Hernandez for taking a year to round the bases. Nothing personal ... but being 27-49 isn't going to garner any extra sympathy from a guy who sat through 1993 (even though he basically admitted that he had his eyes closed).

And yes, it's more proof that I'm old and I'm cranky. I understand that. I get it. I know that I take things like this waaaaaay too seriously. The top notch Mets blogging community saw my crankiness in full force as the largest gathering of Mets bloggers in the eastern hemisphere got together to see Santana vs. Hernandez, because some dope got the bright idea "Hey, let's go see the Mariners ... it'll be fun!" (Sorry.) No wonder I freaked out when Felix got hurt and he was limping off the field faster than he was trotting the bases. (Sorry 'bout that too.) Hey, I hope he gets well. (I clapped when he was carried off.) I was also hoping that Johan Santana would buzz him during his next at-bat.

But I hope for a lot of things ... for David Wright to live up to his gold glove status and not give up errors that set up game changing hits. For the Mets to take advantage of not having to face "King Felix" for more than four and 2/3's by getting some hits off the Mariners bullpen. For Johan Santana to beat an ace and not give up a grand slam to him. Oh well. I obviously should re-adjust my hopes to more realistic wishes ... like winning two out of three games from the worst team in baseball. That is realistic, right?

Hey, you think Willie Randolph and John McLaren are sitting in a bar during this series arguing over who got screwed worse?

Mob Mentality

The movie Goodfellas was on the other day. I was really tired and wanted (needed) to take a nap to refresh myself, but Goodfellas is one of the movies on my list that I inevitably stop what I'm doing to watch whenever it's on. When I can't make it through the whole thing, the scene I at least try to make it through is the one where Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci) thinks he's being made ... and Jimmy Conway (Robert De Niro) is like a proud father waiting by the pay phone to find out when the deed was done. Except he found out it was the wrong deed when Tommy was whacked instead of made. And Jimmy made the phone call only to hear "Nah, there was a problem ... It's done, and ain't nothing can be done about it." And then Jimmy gets mad and beats the phone into the receiver.

When I got home from work Monday night at about a quarter past two in the morning, I wasn't expecting to wake up with any sort of earth shattering news. But I was reasonably sure that I was going to wake up to Willie Randolph being the manager of the Mets. That's why I wrote this during the game. It was satire. I was kidding.

I woke up instead at 6:30AM (entirely too early) with a kiss from my wife ... and three words whispered: "Willie Randolph's gone."

The first thing I thought of was the classic scene from Goodfellas. Because finding out about it the way that I did felt like a mob hit. There was a problem (actually, a few problems) and the deed was done. Ain't nothing can be done about it. Only instead of revenge for Billy Batts, it was punishment for lack of bats.

I spent today probably the same way most of you spent the day ... lamenting about the classless way that this was handled by the Mets. You know, making Randolph fly all the way to the left coast to fire him after one day, and then hear from Omar Minaya that it was because of the circus that had enveloped the team this past weekend (as if the previous month was a scene from Masterpiece Theatre) and that he wanted an extra day to "sleep on it" after he had made the decision Sunday (apparently not having a pocket schedule with him at the time), and also that he didn't want to fire somebody at the ballpark so he waited until Randolph got to the hotel to do it, hence the late hour. Oh, and did I mention the fact that he wanted Randolph to hear it from Minaya himself and not the media, even though the cat seemed to be already peeking out of the bag?

Classless? Yes.

Vapid and thoughtless? Certainly seems that way no matter what Omar says.

But let me ask a question of you. And ask this of yourself honestly: What did you expect?

I don't mean that in the "well the Wilpons have done this kind of non-sensical stuff before" sense, but in the "baseball is a business" sense. Baseball was bought and paid for a long time ago. It's been hammered in our heads that baseball is a business for a lot of years. And guess what: This kind of stuff happens all the time in the business world. So why wouldn't you expect this to happen though the thin veil of the public trust that baseball is supposed to fall under but never really seems to?

Yeah, it sucks. It sucks to be Willie Randolph tonight. The manner in which Randolph lost his job, whether you believe he should have ultimately lost his job or not, sucks. But in retrospect, we shouldn't have been surprised. And you ask why you should have sympathy for Willie, who lost his job while having a significant nest egg to fall back on while the rest of us struggle with our everyday jobs?

Because if the Wilpons do this to Willie Randolph, a supposed member of their baseball family, imagine how they'll treat you. Well, you don't have to imagine, between tiered pricing and $8 beers and waiting every last minute during a rain delay to sell those beers before announcing the cancellation of the game. So you already know that it's a business.

Oh, players like Tom Glavine will tell you that he originally signed by the Mets because the Wilpons were all about family ... but then they let this happen. Because to the Wilpons ... who are the one common thread woven through the likes of Al Harazin, Jeff Torborg, Bobby Bonilla, firecrackers, bleach, marijuana in peanut butter jars, Mike Piazza to first base, Shane Spencer and Karim Garcia instead of Vladimir Guerrero, and all of the underachieving, dysfunctional clubhouses we've been graced with over the last 20 years ... letting Randolph twist in the wind before firing him in the middle of the night is just murder by numbers at this point.

Now if you have a taste for this experience
And you're flushed with your very first success
Then you must try a twosome or a threesome
And you'll find your conscience bothers you much less
-Murder by Numbers/The Police

Omar was right about one thing: It's not about the shortcomings of Willie Randolph. It usually isn't about the shortcomings of one person when a whole team is going badly, or not as good as they are going on paper. Changing a manager is like pulling a goalie in the NHL. It's usually not because the goalie himself is going bad, but because the team in front of him is skating in molasses or glue and making the goalie look bad. The Mets have been skating in molasses and glue since Memorial Day of '07. Or if you really want to find the true seminal moment, since Cecil Wiggins slammed into Filthy Sanchez's cab the night before the deadline in 2006. Randolph has made questionable moves ... as I'm sure all managers have in that time frame. But the team sure as hell has made him and his moves look bad.

I've admitted in the past that maybe it's been time for that new voice. And certainly, the Mets have had plenty of chances to relieve Randolph of his duties in a way that doesn't make the organization look like bumbling fools. But those at least as old as me know that the Mets don't do things the easy way. Even when the net is wide open they always seem to clang one off the post. The organizational types had plenty of chances this season to dump Willie the right way and give their fans a sign that they're not ready to give up the season and are ready to do anything they have to do to change the voice and charge up their roster.

Instead, they give their fans a peek into their vapid thought process, and have embarrassed them along the way. They make Willie sit through these awkward news conferences to announce that he wasn't losing his job, like that movie that tried to tell the story of the late night wars of the early nineties but ended up being one of those strange cult movies that also ... strangely ... is one of those movies that I watch whenever it's on. (Goodfellas and The Late Shift: the only time you'll see those two movies in the same sentence.) Where Jay Leno says that "hey, we've all gathered here at this news conference, and I have the job! We're here to celebrate the fact I haven't been fired yet!"

Instead, they fire Randolph after a 2,500 mile plane ride and one day in Anaheim. Good job, boys.

Instead, they fire Randolph, Rick Peterson, and Tom Nieto (an arbitrary choice if there ever was one), to try to put a charge in this roster. And Ken Oberkfell, who has been promoted to the coaching staff after managing in the Mets' minor league system for 13 years, joins the major league squad ... and would most likely be fired as part of a purge if there's a new GM next year. Way to see the fruits of 13 seasons riding buses in the minors.

And instead, Jose Reyes ... who's development has been tied to Randolph for years, and is one of the players expected to improve after Randolph's dismissal ... develops a beef with Manuel one play into the new era. One f***ing play! Manuel takes out Reyes as a precaution after he was flexing his leg a bit and tried to work through it. But Manuel, who wants to keep the roster fresh, saw taking out Reyes as an opportunity. Reyes threw a mini-fit and sulked off.

This gives you confidence for the rest of the season?

And there you have it. The Jerry Manuel era: kicked off with a fresh controversy, Reyes' injury replacement forgetting to cover second base on a successful pickoff play, and a rousing six singles. Not really the desired effect. And guess what folks: it's guaranteed to last the rest of the year ... the same guarantee that Randolph couldn't get because, in Minaya's words: "what if I gave Willie the guarantee for the rest of the year and then the club lost fifteen in a row?"

"You know, we always called each other good fellas. Like you said to, uh, somebody: You're gonna like this guy. He's all right. He's a good fella. He's one of us.: You understand? We were good fellas."

Manuel, for the record, is only fourteen losses away from that mob mentality kicking in again.

Breaking News

With the Mets 2-0 lead in the top of the first inning against the Angels, sources are reporting that Willie Randolph will be the Mets manager through the bottom of the first.

Update: After the Angels scored in the bottom of the first, the Wilpons have given Omar Minaya the option of firing Rick Peterson and replacing him with the Rally Monkey.

Update: The Mets' 3-1 lead in the third means that Minaya has called off orders to shoot Tom Nieto on sight. Nieto has gone out to the coaching box without his kevlar.

Update: Carlos Beltran has just hit his second home run of the night as the DH to give the Mets a 4-1 lead. Hank Steinbrenner has just been quoted as saying that he no longer likes the DH rule.

Update: Hitting coach Howard Johnson's job is tenous after concern that offensive production has gone down in each of the Mets' last four innings. Two runs in the first, one run on two hits in the second, one run on one hit in the third, and no runs in the fourth. Minaya has said that "Johnson is my hitting coach, and we will continue to re-evaluate as we go."

Update: Mets brass are privately blaming Willie Randolph over Carlos Delgado's decision to come home on a ground ball with runners on first and third, which may or may not have led to two Angels runs in the bottom of the fourth. The Wilpons are reportedly putting together a list of potential replacements for Randolph.

Update: Tom Nieto was reportedly seen in the tunnel putting his kevlar back on sometime during the last two innings.

Update: Luis Castillo's two run single and David Wright's RBI double in the seventh has convinced Omar and the Wilpons that Howard Johnson should remain the hitting coach for the remainder of the game.

Update: The latest implosion of the Mets bullpen in the bottom of the seventh inning to close the gap to 8-6 has forced the Wilpons to step up their search for a new manager. Brass is torn between Wally Backman of the Joliet Jackhammers, and Tim Teufel of the Savannah Sand Gnats. Omar Minaya has even suggested a platoon system where Backman would be the manager against righties, and Teufel would be the manager against lefties.

Update: The Mets escaped with a 9-6 victory, Mike Pelfrey's first win in more than a month ... but a ninth inning rally off of Billy Wagner has caused some concern over the job that Willie Randolph is doing. The Wilpons and Omar Minaya have refused to shoot down the notion that the Mets coaching staff will be replaced by the cast of "The Hills" for Tuesday night's game.

They're Coming To Take Me Away, Ha Haaa!

It's becoming evident that Willie Randolph has gone completely insane.

It's not his fault. But circumstances are driving him to the asylum.

Of course, it doesn't help that Sandy Alomar Sr. had the kind of flashback that makes slow catchers look eerily similar to Lou Brock during Game 1 of the double dip against the Rangers. But here's Willie Randolph on Alomar's decision to send Brian Schneider home on a short fly ball to Milton Bradley in the eighth which basically blew any Mets chance at a comeback:

"In retrospect, he was thrown out by a lot (at home), so it probably wasn't a definite good send," said Randolph, who served as the Yankees' third base coach for 10 years. "But it's lonely over there at third base, and you make a decision. The throw was good, but it didn't put a damper on that inning right there."

It's lonely?

Wait a second, shouldn't that mean that instead of having lots of friends around to talk to, that Sandy Alomar Sr. would have extra time to, oh I don't know, think about why sending a catcher home on a short fly ball would be a bad idea? Lonely??? Alomar made a bad read because he was lonely? Sandy Alomar Sr. needs to go on eHarmony.com?

"Go Schneider! Run like the wind! I want to be lonely again!!! Booooooooooorn Freeeeeeeeee! As free as the wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind bloooooooooooooows!"

Koo-koo! Koo-koo! Koo-koo!

(Or is that ... Dae Sung Koo-Koo?)

Then, after Robinson Cancel saved Randolph's bacon by getting a pinch-hit two run single in the sixth giving the Mets the lead for good in game 2 while everyone in the stands were chanting for Pedro Martinez to stay in the game (and saved the Mets from the awful stat that the team is 0-9 when being tied after six innings), Randolph says this:

"Because of the rainout, yeah it almost felt like we went one for three really ... but the record shows otherwise so we'll take it."

Willie Randolph has become one of those chain smokers that can't enjoy food anymore because he's smoked so much that everything tastes like tar and menthol. Even a series win feels like a series loss to Randolph. That's not supposed to happen to a manager until he's been around 25 years. Willie hasn't even managed four.

That ... my friends ... is what working for this organization will get you. Fewer brain cells. So yes, fire Willie. Fire Willie Randolph so he can regain his sanity and get a cushy job as Joe Torre's bench coach. Save him from a fate of sneaking on team flights in disguises so he can't be fired.

Fire Rick Peterson so he can become Barry Zito's love guru. (Or maybe he'll go to San Diego and straighten out Heath Bell's fastball again).

Fire Tom Nieto so he can go to another organization and a whole other fan base can forget that he works for them until it's time to fire seven coaches.

Fire them all. Except Jerry Manuel, that is. Yes, by all means promote Jerry Manuel ... who outside of one division title in 2000 is a .500 manager ... a perfect match for a .500 roster. He'll fire up the troops just fine.

Yes, give us Jerry. Arm him with more of the weapons of Omar Minaya's past ... such as Tony Armas Jr. And bring back the rest of the Expo luminaries: Shane Andrews. Fernando Seguignol. Orlando Merced. Wilton Guerrero. Trace Coquillette. And what's Mel Rojas doing these days, anyway?

Bring 'em back. That'll do the trick.

Ah, f**k. Guess I've gone crazy too. And I haven't even flown back and forth from the west coast every other week. Think how Willie feels.

Most be lonely on those flights.

High Speed Fitness

Today, Willie Randolph helped launch Be Fit NYC, a search engine to help New Yorkers find fitness activities wherever they are in the five boroughs.

Meanwhile, in a dark clubhouse, Moises Alou turned to Marlon Anderson and said "You know what Marlon, Willie has a good idea. Let's be fit from now on". Hence, they both returned to active duty today.

(Note: Fluff Castro would have been in that conversation, but he thought Tuesday night's game was 7PM Munich time ... and he also thought it was Monday. So he came to Shea, played, and went home before anyone else even arrived at the park. Castro, somehow, went 0 for 4 in an empty ballpark ... while hitting off a tee. Oh, and he tweaked an imaginary muscle getting thrown out at first base by imaginary fielders while trying to beat out a bunt which, it's worth repeating, came off a tee. If he had "been fit", this would never have happened.)

I wonder if the game in Castro's head was any better than the actual game, a 5-1 Mets lead into a 9-5 Mets loss to Arizona, complete with a rain delay, making sure that fans had to make a choice between leaving during a tie game and making their train and staying until the bitter end. And some made the right choice.

By leaving.

For the rest of us, the Mets have become one of those high speed chases you see on the news every once in a while ... the ones that almost always take place in either Los Angeles or Texas. You're watching it, and you know it's going to end badly for the perp. Because let's face it: once you're on television and the helicopters are following you, you're not getting away. So you know it's going to be a bad ending. But what do you do? You watch anyway. Because you have to know how it's going to end. Will the driver run out of gas and come out peacefully? Will the driver slow down like he's going to surrender and then back up into the police car before speeding away again thinking they're all slick? When the cops stop the perp, will they put a major league beating on them?

At least with the Mets, you know the major league beatings are coming ... every night. But you can't turn away. How will the chase end? Who gets the ultimate beatdown at the end of it all? Willie? The Jacket? Hojo? Omar? Because under the glare of the helicopter that is New York, nobody will get away. They're all on the table for a beatdown at the side of the road. And you and I will have front row seats at our televisions to watch the carnage go down ... all season long.

(Editor's note: Don't expect any help from the minors ... your New Orleans Zephyrs were one-hit by the likes of Brandon Duckworth in a 13-0 loss last night. Great.)

The Four Horsemen Of The 2008 Mets' Apocalypse

Perhaps Willie Randolph is hoping that if this disaster of a series against the Padres turns into another four game sweep, that nobody will notice because all the games to this point ended after one o'clock in the morning.

I doubt that's possible. Because believe it or not, a four game sweep at the hands of the Padres is probably a few ticks worse than a four game sweep against the Braves. Banks, Wolf, Baek and Ledezma: The new four horsemen that are in the process of riding the Mets into the sunset ... which is creeping ever closer ... while tied up with mouths gagged and balancing on the back of the horse (which may, or may not be Da' Tara, although the horse that Baek is riding looks like it could be Big Brown). Barring a significant change in talent and ability up and down the roster, the tombstone of this team is going to read "Here lies the 2008 New York Mets ... one run on eight hits."

Some have expressed concern about the links I posted to yesterday, that I was somehow headed over the edge. I want to assure you that even though Scott Hairston pushes me closer and closer every day, I'm still a ways away from that breaking point. But I do have to tell you ... and the timing I assure you is total coincidence, that I will be on hiatus. Yes, there will be a beach involved. But it will be short, and I will return to preach more gospel (or spew more garbage ... which is probably more accurate) on Tuesday night. Hopefully by then, there will be more of a heartbeat in the collective hearts of this team than there is in the head of Ryan Church.

Now while I'm gone, don't forget the Aaron Heilman initiative ... the one where you do something for the good of society when Heilman comes into the game. A good thing to do is to buy one of these snazzy t-shirts from Gary, Keith and Ron at their website. Buying a t-shirt helps society as the proceeds go to the announcers' favorite charities. And if Heilman doesn't come in to Sunday's game, then it's time to celebrate. And you know, the best way to celebrate is to buy a shirt with a number 17 wearing a mustache.

Postcards From The Edge

Dear Aaron Heilman,

Drink lots of fluids in New Orleans. It's hot there this time of year.

-Metstradamus

Dear Willie Randolph,

Aaron Heilman's splits going into tonight read as such:

Bases empty: 2.65 ERA, 1.00 WHIP, .175 BAA
Runners on: 9.53 ERA, 2.12 WHIP, .370 BAA

And just for fun:

RISP w/2 outs: 21.60 ERA, 2.70 WHIP, .412 BAA

Why you would wait for a runner to reach base to bring Aaron Heilman in continues to be one of the great mysteries of my life. Sure, the runner should have never been on base because it was a bad call on the Pierre play. But dude, when there's runners on base, Heilman needs to pitch with a shrink behind him sitting in a lawn chair. Why would you do that to Aaron? Somewhere in this city, Aaron's on the phone talking to someone about his mother to work out his mental block. And I blame you.

-Metstradamus

Dear Tim Welke,

Thank you for continuing to convince the masses to bring instant replay to baseball. When you basically helped the Mets lose with your bad call to start the eighth inning, you are helping to score a greater victory for the sport in the process. So when a Derek Jeter foul ball in the ninth inning of Game 7 of the 2010 World Series against the Mets is overturned and made a walk-off, series winning home run, baseball has you to thank.

-Metstradamus

Dear Luis Castillo,

Congratulations on your second home run in three days. Those guys in front of your locker are there because it's time for your "random" drug test. Not that they don't trust you but ... you know, just in case.

-Metstradamus

P.S. They also want to ask you something about Mindy McCready.

Editor's disclaimer: The author of this blog is not insinuating that Luis Castillo is on the juice. That would be silly. He only means to illustrate that we live in a time that people will always associate unexpected power with performance enhancing drugs, which is an ill-informed point of view. Performance enhancing drugs are used more to bounce back from injury, which Luis has now. So as much as Luis gets injured and hobbles around, he can't possibly be juicing.

But when he hit that home run, tell me you weren't thinking it for a split second. (Liar.)

Dear Chan Ho Park,

The one start you made for us in your life is a start that I'll never have back. If you had never wore a Mets uniform, that might have been us that got swept by the Rockies instead of Philadelphia. And if my team is eliminated from the playoffs this season by one game, guess who I'm blaming?

-Metstradamus

Dear Clayton Kershaw,

I look forward to you throwing a no-hitter against the Mets one day. I'll find a way to blame Chan Ho Park for that too.

-Metstradamus

Dear Jonathon Broxton,

My cat likes to howl at the moon. So can you take a step to the left? You're blocking the moonlight.

-Metstradamus

Quality Time With Pine

How does one bench someone who doesn't get paid to think so he can clear his head?

If he doesn't get paid to think, what exactly is in his head to clear?

It's a riddle that I think only one of those five-year-old prodigies that can solve a Rubik's Cube in like, three seconds can figure that one out.

"If you want to be an ass, I can be an ass too. -Carlos Delgado 5/26/2008

"Your ass is on the bench." -Willie Randolph, symbolically 5/27/2008

I like my managers vindictive ... and it's good to see a little vindictiveness from Willie for the whole Jon Heyman debacle before Monday night's game. I don't think it was the non-commit answer that Delgado gave originally, but the "that's not a good answer to ask in front of everybody" Delgado came up with that had to get Willie's goat. If it was just the former, then both Carloses would have gotten the message Tuesday night (although maybe not, since I think the Mets next option at outfielder would have been either Dave Gallagher or Jeff McKnight).

I mean, let me get this straight: it would have been all right to ask Carlos Delgado if he thought Willie should still be the manager if no cameras were around? Why? So he can be one of those "anonymous sources"? Yeah, that would have been a great sign that Randolph had the room under control.

Instead, Randolph sends a message to Carlos Delgado. But don't ask Willie what the message is. It might not be a good question to ask in front of people.

Was it too little too late to get the room back under control? And did the Delgado message inspire the Mets to play better tonight for their second win in a week and a half? I'm guessing that Delgado's .300-ish OBP on the bench might have had a little more to do with it.

Oh, and some guy named Santana too. He's pretty good.

(Editor's note: Be prepared for this blogger to use any and all excuses to pull out the "If you want to be an ass ..." quote. It really should be the slogan for this season. Think about it: "The 2008 Mets: If you want to be an ass, we have a seating plan for you ... and your ass!" Gold, baby!)

You Mean I Stole All Those Cardboard Boxes For Nothing?

Hello, Three Bears Moving? Yeah, I need to cancel my appointment ...

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

Hey You Were Right Willie, This Champagne Really Does Taste Sweet!

What a scene it was in the Mets lockerroom after finally winning a game for the first time in close to a week.

The banners were hung from the lockers with care as this meaningless win was sponsored by Budweiser.

"All right, I saved my job! For tomorrow."

"Woo hoo! I can't believe it David ... I got a clutch hit!"

"Hey Jose, who's this Nick Evans guy? He's not half bad! And his OPS is already higher than mine!"