Aaron's Fable

Once upon a time there was a pitcher who succeeded at everything he tried...until he got to the Mets where he was told that his value was as a relief pitcher. So he moped and tried to prove his worth by beating Chris Burke in a race to the first base bag. But being the lazy mope he was, he stopped at a Starbucks during the race even though he had a head start. Burke hustled, and won the race.

The Astros scored, Heilman was embarrassed, and Burke refused to share his popcorn.

The End.

(???)

That was obviously the Cliff Notes version of the story, but the actual end may be written when Aesop Heilman is lollygagging to the airport to join his new team next week.

The fact that Heilman's bonehead (Cone-head?) play did not ultimately cost the Mets the game is irrelevant. The Mets were 13 games up going in, so losing a game here and there isn't going to kill them. But that's not the challenge for Willie Randolph. The challenge is to keep his players interested, and focused on the present moment throughout a long couple of months where they will most likely have nothing to play for except home field in the NLCS. For the most part, Willie has kept his guys alert and happy.

But when a player makes a gaffe like Heilman's...and when that player is a guy who has been talked about as not having his entire heart in his job because of his role...there's a problem. And when that player is on the cusp of trade rumors where it's entirely possible that Mets brass is going back and forth on what to do with him, well let's just say that if I was Freddy Garcia I wouldn't look at any real estate in Illinois or Wisconsin. Because just as winning is contagious, so is laziness. That frame of mind needs to be quarantined before it spreads to the rest of the team by the time the playoffs roll around...whether by conversation, by role change, or by trade.

In a related story, during a recent airing of "Baseball Tonight" Tim Kurkjian forced to guess that Marlins reliever Joe Borowski would be a Met by the time the trade deadline comes and goes. I'm not sure how much sense that makes, and even Kurkjian didn't sound convinced...but if the Mets give up on Heilman, then Borowski makes a lot more sense.

So if Aesop Heilman is smart, he quickly learns that relieving is his friend...or he will be relieved of his uniform and shipped off to the woods to race turtles in Chicago.

***

In case you haven't noticed, Carlos Delgado is out of his slump.

Why has Carlos Delgado been able to emerge from this deep deep slump?

Because he's not Alex Rodriguez.

For all of my ranting and raving about how the national media excessively kisses the cheeks of the New York Yankees (and it is excessive), even I have to admit that with that comes a price. With that comes the possibility that a picture of you at Central Park in a metrosexual pose will hit the front page of the tabloids. With that comes the mental pressure of everybody, including the people that spread Yankee propaganda, hopping on your back and discussing you endlessly when you're going sour. With that comes George Steinbrenner.

Carlos Delgado goes into a batting slump and nobody's breaking down his at bats, his fielding mechanics, and his suntan lotion brand of choice. Nobody makes him takes extra infield practice only to pencil him in at DH.

A-Rod currently has Carlos Delgado's slump and Aaron Heilman's mental block combined. All because the excessive good press that goes around can turn unnecessarily bad in a heartbeat...because that's the way it works with the Yankees.

Meanwhile, Delgado has the luxury of working through his problems in relative peace.

So as much as I will continue to rant and rave about the severe inequity of the amount of coverage the Yankees get in comparison to the Mets, I have to say that in this case...they can have it.

***

Staying with the theme of the media having nothing better to talk about, I was given a theory that I must share with you:

Mike Pelfrey is undefeated with the tongue.

He's 0-1 with the blue gum/mouthpiece.

Has the media made Pelfrey so self conscious regarding his tongue that he was willing to try the blue gum?

I'm not sure I buy that. But I would like to see Pelfrey stick with what makes him comfy.

Messing With Mother

Mother Nature: God! GOD!!!

God: What's the matter?

MN: Did you read this in today's paper? Willie Randolph pulled Orlando Hernandez back from the rain and the replacement won!

God: What's the big deal?

MN: Doesn't Willie Randolph realize you can't fool with me?

God: So how do you want to play it?

MN: Well this Hernandez character is going to go today because Randolph thinks today will be a better day than yesterday. This Willie Randolph needs to be taught a lesson. RAIN EVERY FIVE MINUTES!!!

God: Don't you think that's a little harsh?

MN: Well I'm pissed dammit!

God: Why does everybody want Me to damn things? I'm a busy deity...I have no time to run around going "damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn" all the time!

MN: Well some people need a little reminder that I cannot be avoided!

God: How about just a rain delay at the top to remind Willie that you're around? No use punishing the poor Mets fans with constant rain delays, right?

MN: You're right. They've suffered enough. One hour should be enough to foil this Orlando character.

And it almost was, as Hernandez continued his aversion to rain delays by giving up a home run to Lance Berkman in the first inning that is currently rolling along the Saw Mill Parkway. When a Preston Wilson home run followed, it looked like Chicago all over again. Mother Nature let out a chortle.

But Orlando Hernandez did mess with Ms. Nature, as he threw six scoreless frames after the Berkman bomb. The lineup, meanwhile, did just enough between Carlos Delgado's sac fly and Xavier Nady's three run jack to give the Mets their third straight win.

If you've woken up today to find that you're snowed in, you'll know why.

The Sweet Smell Of Salami By Way Of The Great State Of Maine

I can now confirm it...

Orlando Hernandez is a witch.

It's obvious isn't it? Why else would Willie Randolph push him back to tomorrow? Orlando heard that thunder at 9:30 AM...then again at 2:30PM, then on a constant stream from 4-5. He's probably still under the trainers table shaking to death...scared to set foot in the outside world.

"Skip, I can't go out there."

"Why not, Orlando?"

"If I don't throw the first pitch at precisely at 7:08, I'll age fifteen years immediately."

"Are you serious? You're not Joe Hardy."

"Who's Joe Hardy?"

"If you don't go, I'll age fifteen years. C'mon O, what's the real reason?"

"I can't pitch in the rain...I'll melt."

Who steps up to the rescue? The precocious John "Bangor" Maine, with a 7-0 complete game shutout against the Astros tonight.

If I had a better memory, I would list off all of the instances that pitchers have had big starts or goalies that have had shutouts where they didn't know they were playing until anywhere from 2 hours to 15 minutes before game time. I can't. But trust me, this kind of thing happens all the time...where pitchers take a leisurely drive to the park thinking they have the day off and usually exit the park pitching the game of their lives because they had no time to overthink themselves to death. So by that token, this surprise outing by John Maine doesn't surprise me.

But it surprises me by all other tokens. It is, after all, John Maine.

Let's put it this way: John Maine was so good tonight, various fans have spotted Anna Benson outside the press gate waiting for him while hiking up her skirt.

You know who's the happiest man in the park tonight? None other than Omar Minaya. You know why? Because it's freakin' merengue night! The Mets are now 8-2 on merengue night! Woo-hoo!

All right, not merengue night. Omar is a John Maine guy...probably because he so desperately wants the Kris Benson for Orlando Hernandez (by way of Jorge Julio) and Maine to look better than it has been. But Minaya has loved John Maine ever since he joined the organization, impressed by his heater and changeup. Tonight, Omar's faith was rewarded.

There was a feeling like this after one Alay Soler pitched a shutout in Arizona. Since then, that didn't turn out so well. Bangor might very well be headed down that same path. But considering the contrast in styles between Soler and Maine, maybe not. The way Omar feels about Maine, he most assuredly is less inclined to make a deal for a starter now than he was this afternoon. Is that wise? Omar would want me to trust him...and I do.

Just keep Anna away from the press gate.

***

On most nights, it would have been Jose Valentin talked about first. It took a Herculean John Maine effort to knock Valentin down a few paragraphs. But when Jose strode to the plate in a scoreless tie with the sacks full, and when I saw the stat that Valentin had 117 RBI's in 116 career at bats with the bases loaded, my mind started racing like Beavis on a sugar high. I was giddy at the fact that this was pretty much a guaranteed run batted in. And yes, I started smelling a little salami.

Then I thought about Pat Tabler.

Why would I do a dumb thing like that?

Because Pat Tabler, who was a Met for about a month in 1990, was a lifetime 43 for 88 with the bases loaded...one hit short of .500 with the maximum amount of runners on base. In his short time with the Mets, he was 2 for 2 with 5 RBI's.

Once I concluded that I need some serious therapy for thinking about Pat Tabler, I thought of my fantasy team, the highly mediocre "Neon Stick Figures". Jose Valentin just started his second tour of duty for them, as I was desperately in need of an outfielder due to the fact that the last two guys I tried were sent down to the minors. So I needed him. John Maine needed him. The Mets needed him. And yes, somewhere in Toronto, I'm sure in some small way Pat Tabler needed him without knowing quite why.

And with one swing, the Astros were fried...the way I like my salami.

***

What's with the Sanford and Son theme for Cliff Floyd as he strides to the plate?

Is Cliff Floyd a big dummy?

Are his knees turning into a junkyard?

Or maybe since he robbed Chris Burke of a home run tonight, he's more like Rollo.

***

I looked at the Brooklyn Cyclones schedule during the season...hoping that there would be an afternoon game during the week that I could attend. Through the four months of the schedule I could only find one game. However, with the train signal malfunction in Queens (it takes me 90 minutes to get to Keyspan Park on a good day), and due to the fact that the Mets also had a day game, I decided against it.

This is what I would have been in for.

The Oneonta Tigers defeated Brooklyn in twenty-six innings this past Thursday afternoon. Let me repeat that in case it hasn't sunk in: twenty-six innings! And Brooklyn lost! I hope this isn't what we have to look forward to in the coming years from our farm system...although it was actually an outfielder that gave up the five runs in the 26th (I can't even type "26th" with a straight face) after already having pitched a scoreless inning.

Think about this: the game was a noon start. Imagine if this game started at 7PM. Is there a curfew in the New York Penn League?

Dustin Martin scored the only run for the Cyclones. He was also 0 for 11 on the afternoon/early evening. He was a .278 hitter when the game started. He is now at .241. Steve Phillips has already offered to trade him for Jose Cruz Jr.

Laborious

There was no room in the Mets collective luggage for their pitching and their defense as they fly home today. So they just brought it with them to the park today as they took back to back series for the first time in a while by a score of 4-2.

Omar Minaya has to be smiling today, while Wayne Krivsky is pulling his hair out. Minaya's off season acquisitions shone today...between Chad Bradford's latest Houdini act to get out of the seventh with bases loaded and one out and Endy Chavez's clutch two out hit in the tenth to score another Minaya coup: Xavier Nady. Meanwhile newest Cincinnati pariah Gary Majewski, who was part of a trade which cost the Reds Austin Kearns and Felipe Lopez, took the loss in the tenth.

But the difference today was the Mets ability to get out of trouble. In the sixth, there were runners on second and third after an Edwin Encarnacion double to left center with nobody out. Rich Aurilia might have scored on the play, except that a Reds fan reached over the left field fence to interfere with it (notice that the Mets fans retreated). First it's the wave that hurts them, then it's a Reds fan killing them by interfering with a ball in play. Another nice job.

Aurilia then attempts to score on a grounder to second, but he was caught flat footed by Jose Valentin...playing medium to deep...with a good throw to the plate. This could have been another questionable decision like Reyes' throw to third last night on a tag play (which I had no problem with), but Aurilia's late break killed him. The inning ended with a scary Bronson Arroyo tapper in front of the plate with the bases loaded and two outs...but Glavine smartly threw to Castro, who tagged the runner for the third out. You would think that Fluff Castro's expanded cranium would give him more room to remember that with the bases loaded, you don't have to tag the runner coming home...it's a force play. Hey, thankfully it worked out all right is all I'm saying.

The seventh inning was Blueback Bradford picking up for Glavine, and featured Blueback's nasty changeup to strike out Scott Hatteberg with the sacks full and one out.

The eighth inning featured Aaron Heilman, who left a runner at third with two groundouts to David Wright.

The ninth inning featured Pedro Feliciano and Valentin again. Feliciano walked Nellie Fox...oh I mean Chris Denorfia (Keith Hernandez has been a bit heavy handed with the Nellie Fox batting grip references over the last couple of days). And when he tried to steal second with two outs, there was Jose Valentin bringing the ball back from the third base side and employing the no look tag (oh by the way, Denorfia was safe) to basically end another threat even though the half inning lasted about two hours...Feliciano threw about 243 pitches to get out of that inning, but he was unscathed.

Then came the top of the tenth, where the Reds revamped bullpen had a chance to respond to some adversity themselves (Eddie Guardado worked around a David Wright double in the ninth, but the Mets basically provided no threat from the fifth to the eighth), and Krivsky's acquisition Majewski couldn't do it. The Reds GM probably will get some more grief from his friend (and ours) Steve Phillips,

***

It looks like this season's Manny Ramirez will be Bobby Abreu. The Philly Daily News reports a potential Abreu for Rodrigo Lopez deal, but ESPN's insider service is rumbling about Abreu coming to Queens...for Lastings Milledge. Funny how when anyone discussed a potential Abreu to the Yankees swap, it was always followed by "well, the Phillies aren't going to ask for too much from the Yanks since they just want to get rid of Abreu's contract." But when it comes to the Mets, who need an outfielder less than the Yankees do, it's Lastings Milledge. I see that Bud Selig is going to have to prepare another one of those "well, I'm not supposed to let this kind of deal go, but in the best interests of the game, of the Yankees, and of FOX's ratings..."

***

The Braves now have themselves a closer, trading for Bob Wickman.

Apparently, the Braves grew wistful for a Terry Forster like presence in the clubhouse, and thought that Wickman kind of looked like Dan Kolb in ten years, so they took a chance.

Now if the rest of the putrid Braves bullpen can get the lead to Wickman, I would be worried.

If the Braves follow this by getting, say, Roberto Hernandez, I would be worried.

Until then, wake me up when they get a safe distance on the right side of .500, please.

***

So does the amphetamines rule in MLB count for broadcasters too? You've gotta love all of Keith Hernandez's "Kineresque" malapropos that were no doubt caused by the day game after the night game...but especially when thrown against the canvas of today's constant Gary And Keith theme: How the new "greenies" rule would affect a game like this:

"Has Glavine thrown a change up today, Keith?"

"I have to pay more attention."

From a man paid good money to pay attention (money provided in part by our cable bills I might add).

And after that came Hernandez's observation that Bronson Arroyo was going to throw some dipsy-doo curve balls to try to get Fluff Castro to hit into a double play with runners on first and third and two outs.

Not surprising to also learn during the game that Keith had never heard of Red Bull. Silly gold glover, Red Bull gives you clarity!

Gary Cohen obviously had his Red Bull...he's probably the first broadcaster in history to use the word "laborious" during a day game after a night game. Can Elias look something like that up?

***

Great scorecard line for Jose Reyes today: 9 9 9 9 K

Great if you're playing five card stud, that is.

***

Late add: get ready to laugh your ass off with "the voice of the people"!!! (Careful: If foul language offends your boss, better wear headphones!)

Too Close To Home

I feel for Steve Trachsel.

Forget for a moment the irony in The Human Rain Delay having his effectiveness drained by The Actual Rain Delay. Seeing Trachsel look so good before the two and one-half hour rain delay and so ordinary afterwards made me wistful for a time where the path of my life was altered forever.

The year was 1987...and I was taking what would be the final shot at my dream of being a major leaguer by trying out for the Newtown High School baseball team as a senior walk-on. It was a Friday afternoon and there was a fair mist in the air which probably drove a good number of prospects away. But there I was, ready to give it a try. Before the baseball coach arrived (he was late), I got to throw to a guy who was a catcher for a college team. I broke out what I would have made my bread and butter: the split fingered fastball...threw about three or four that were reminiscent of the best features of Mike Scott and Jack Morris. The catcher then came to me, and this was roughly the conversation:

"What are you throwing?"

"Splitter."

"You throw that during the tryout, you're on the team, dude!"

Think of it...a college catcher telling me I had a wicked pitch! Where's the damn coach already so I can start my ascent to the majors?

Finally, the coach shows up and makes the announcement that since it was raining and more people didn't show up, the tryouts were postponed until the following Monday. A two and a half day rain delay.

Now far be it from me to challenge the wisdom of the decision to wait for a bunch of kids who were so dedicated to playing baseball that they passed on the actual tryout day because of a little rain. But my stuff was electric. Would I have it on Monday?

So Monday comes...there's about three times the hopefuls at Newtown Field...and as a result, everyone got three pitches to show the head coach that they belonged on the team. Again, far be it from me to question the wisdom of the coach, but even Isiah Thomas is getting a whole year! Three pitches? And where was that catcher to throw me a good word? Oh, and did I mention we were required to pitch from the stretch?

The catcher had to jump to haul in my first offering.

The rest of the month was a blur.

I think about it every so often. What if it hadn't rained? What if the coach stuck to the original plan and had the tryouts on Friday? I could have made the team. I could have gotten a college scholarship to Wichita State, played with such luminaries as Pat Meares and Casey Blake, and had Doug Mirabelli as my battery mate. I could have gotten drafted, ridden around the country in uncomfortable buses, traded three or four times, and made the majors as a rule V pickup.

I could have had Tommy John surgery!

I could have been traded for Scott Kazmir!

I could have gotten booed in Shea Stadium!

No, I didn't get to experience all of that, because what happened to Steve Trachsel tonight happened to me 19 years ago. We lost our stuff to a weather pattern.

P.S. The site of the failed audition, Newtown Field, has since been converted into a really nice soccer field, and has played host to a solid high school soccer program. I get weepy when I think that it could have been made into a nice baseball field with an exploding scoreboard on the facade of the Queens Center mall if I had made the majors and paid for all the renovations...of course after renaming the field after myself. But not all was lost, as a mere six months after my tryout, I realized my dream of being booed in Shea Stadium...twice in the same game! But it was as a fan, and not as a player. You take what you can get in this life.

Great Tongues In History

Brains...Beauty...Status...Song...Poetry...All right, maybe not quite poetry in the truest sense of the word...but compared to some of the starts that the back end of the rotation has seen lately, Mike Pelfrey looked like Lord Tennyson out there...especially with the blazing fastball that vanquished Paul Bunyan's twin with runners on base to end the fifth inning.

Fear the tongue.

But there was some troubling news out of the Great American Ballpark: In addition to the Reds holding raffles Tuesday night for Carlos Delgado autographed baseballs even though his uniform says "NEW YORK", apparently...according to my sources who were at the Mets/Reds game tonight sitting so high in the upper deck they were in Kentucky...there are still people out there that not only insist on performing the insufferable "wave", but perform it at the absolute worst time.

Like when Carlos Beltran was up with the bases loaded and the Mets up by a run.

Now I know that this wound up with a good result for the Mets...historic even. But it's troubling that we as baseball fans can't put an end to abolish this frequently misused disaster known as "the wave". I say...if you insist on waving during a key moment in the game with your team on the field, then you deserve what you get. So to the thirteen year old girl in the stands who threw her peanuts (with shells) at the Met fan taunting you with the Carlos Beltran jersey immediately after the grand slam: You need to sit down and look in the mirror with the reflection of your fellow Reds fans staring back at you for the reason that you're miserable. You see, the real issue is deep down in your dark soul...and you're giving all of us a bad name by performing the wave like lemmings just because other fans did it in 1984. If other baseball fans jumped off a bridge in 1984 would you do it too?

Sit down and watch the damn game.