Whatcha Got?

So Mr. Hernandez...

You're starting today against Colorado.

Petey's on the shelf...

and now Tom Glavine's season may or may not be over.

Whatcha got?

Six innings of shutout ball? Very nice. What else can I give 'em?

A stolen base?

Really?

What's with you old geezers and steals lately?

Well that's pretty amazing. Tell me something...can you heal blood clots?

No? Oh well. You've done what you can. Thanks O.

Hey by the way, you wouldn't happen to have Jaerock Lee's number by any chance, would you? We're willing to try anything with Tommy. We were told that putting his cold fingers in Anna Benson's mouth would work, but trading Raynaud's disease for whatever Anna might have seems too big a risk...unless his doctor was Monty Hall or something.

***

If there is a higher power, I hope He will see it fit to give somebody...

anybody on the Mets...

the strength to put on a #31 model jersey...

bang his bat on the locker of our new acquisition and yell "BOO"!

(Nice of Omar Minaya to wait until after the Padres series to pull that one off.)

You Didn't Have To Be There

It started out like another Met attempt at honoring their past gone horribly awry.

I could understand Buddy Harrelson wearing number 3 when his placard and the scoreboard clearly reflected the "23" he wore during the year that was being honored tonight. After all, Harrelson did have some experience with the single digit.

But Kevin Elster modeling the post 1986 number 21?

And Randy Niemann wearing 48? Did Niemann ever wear 48 as a player with the Mets? I mean, how awkward was it when Howie Rose so obviously had to shift course on a dime like Barry Sanders in his own backfield when he announced "He wore number 40...he's, uh, wearing number 48 now, Randy Niemann!" (And speaking of awkward, how awkward was the post ceremony video where you saw all of the great moments and great footage of that '86 crew that was the soundtrack and sighttrack of twenty years ago...and then stuck in the middle was two seconds of Niemann on the mound pounding his glove because he did nothing else on camera that year except pour more champagne in Houston than everyone else?)

Was Ron Darling going to come out wearing 15?

But if everything went right in the 1986 World Series, maybe they wouldn't be special enough to warrant a celebration quite this special, right? So you can say that those missteps with the uniforms were merely a reminder that sometimes, the other team comes into Shea and wins the first two games of the Series.

Because like the rest of the '86 Series, the rest of tonight's ceremony was really something to behold. Mets emerging from the stands, walking through the crowd like the "men of the people" they were. Tim Teufel eschewing the umbrella like real men should. Mookie and Lenny...competitors for one job turned outfield mates co-existing (and sometimes co-lliding)...sharing the hug heard 'round the world tonight. Keith Hernandez passing the emcee duties to Mookie, one of the few '86ers (with Jesse Orosco) who went through the dark years of the early 80's (in a moment which prompted my friend the jinx to call me and ask "is Keith drunk?")

Wally Backman, right after the World Series, said that he couldn't wait until this team got its twenty year reunion party. Amazing how it seemed so far away at the time, but here we are and that day has come and gone. I guess the one thing that got me was the love shown towards this group of players by a fan base booming more and more each day by people who weren't old enough to remember how the Mets dominated back then. They didn't experience it quite like I did, but loved the same guys that I loved with seemingly as much fervor and delight.

The crowd there tonight must have been filled with younger generationers who cheered more for the "idea" of '86 than the actual players. You know how I know that?

Even Doug Sisk was cheered.

It may have been the twenty year anniversary we were celebrating, but it was probably the first time in at least twenty-two years that Sisk heard a nice ovation. But I guess when you're part of a team that has been immortalized, you're overdue for some love.

Not having been alive for 1969, I know how these younger folks feel. I was certainly in awe of guys like Tug McGraw, who's general quirkiness and coined phrases combined with his fiery mound demeanor and emotions worn on his sleeve held him a special place in my heart. And Tom Seaver, who fortunately I didn't have to wait until a reunion special to cheer having been at Seaver's return in the 1983 opener. And Ed Kranepool, who's longevity made him as close to a living legend as I knew at the age of nine. And Tommie Agee, whose catches in the World Series were imitated by myself plenty of times with no regard for my physical well being.

I never saw them in their prime and was always a touch saddened by that, and I'm sure you younger folk can relate if you never saw Keith and Gary and Darryl et al in their prime. The Mets having been an important fabric in my life for so long made the fact that there were Mets before my existence tough to deal with...especially the fact that there were winning Mets before me. The fact that the Mets won an incredible, inconceivable World Series before my time while having to endure the Richie Hebners, the Willie Montanezes and the Bruce Boisclairs of the world hit me with the stark reality that the Mets might not win again until the year after my death. Instead, the closest I would get would be the elder generation sitting me down on their knee and gently whispering: "son, you missed a hell of a team, those guys in '69. You had to be there."

Luckily, Frank Cashen traded for Keith Hernandez and before you knew it, Jesse Orosco was throwing his glove up in the air.

For those of you that were there tonight to celebrate that moment...specifically to you fans who were loud and proud tonight even though 1986 was before your consciousness: when you cheered for them, I felt it. When you chanted, I heard it. The louder you got, the better it felt. You cheered for my time. You cheered for my youth. And I probably felt it almost as much as the players did. You made me proud.

And by the way, you missed a hell of a team, those guys from '86. But judging by your volume and your emotion, you probably understood that.

I guess you didn't have to be there after all.

***

As for the game tonight, the one thing that I fear the younger fans and myself will generally disagree on are those throwbacks. I love what Gary Cohen calls the "racing stripes".

When the Mets added the piping to their entire wardrobe in 1983, there was a newspaper columnist who wrote that the piping was similar to that of the Montreal Expos and that hopefully, the Mets can match the success of those early 80's 'Spos. Well not only did the Mets do that, they exceeded it.

When the Mets ditched the piping in 1993, it was also done after the Expos had done the same thing the year before. Well not only did the Mets match the Expos relative mediocrity, nobody surpassed the awfulness of a franchise that never made the postseason (outside of a split season) as the Mets did in that horrible season of '93.

Which is why I will always love the piping.

And if you watched the game, and if you used that piping to see Matt Holliday drop a very catchable fly ball in left field, and instead saw Dave Parker drop the final out of what became a classic Mets/Reds brawl back in '86, you could be forgiven.

If you saw Yorvit Torrealba's passed ball and thought of Rich Gedman...if you saw Kevin Mitchell score instead of Carlos Beltran, you could be forgiven.

If you saw Keith Hernandez diving to catch an infield flare in the sixth, singling to the opposite field in the bottom of the frame, and scooping up a double play relay in the seventh inning instead of seeing Carlos Delgado doing the same, you could be forgiven.

If you heard Lenny Dykstra in the booth tonight railing about how David Eckstein was a pretty good player, but "he didn't...I hit home runs when they mattered and that's what counts. These guys today that hit 30 HR's and punch out 160 times...it's a joke", and you were glad that the final out came when it did for Lenny's sake, then you realize that there are old guys out there a lot more bitter than myself.

And if you see that someday, twenty years from now, someone will ask Tom Glavine what made the '06 team so special and he will reply that "Lastings Milledge was our fifth outfielder", just as Ron Darling would reply that "Kevin Mitchell was our utility player" about '86...

Then you should agree that we should bring the piping back a little more often. Remember to line it up right.

My Favorite Endy

"He's my favorite player."-Willie Randolph, on Endy Chavez

Tonight, Endy Chavez is everyone's favorite player, after his tying home run propelled the Mets to a 6-3 victory.

But will Endy be everyone's favorite Mets right fielder come October?

In the shadows of Shawn Green rumors, Endy Chavez has done a great job producing for the New York Mets, whether it be now or all season. And don't get me wrong, I love Endy too. But right now, he's the second best healthy outfielder on the Mets and that is a problem. Don't let the fact that the Mets scored six runs in a game started by Byung-Hyun Kim fool you. Long term, a lineup featuring Michael Tucker and Chris Woodward is going to be a wee bit of a problem. If Endy Chavez has a regular outfield spot in the playoffs and beyond, it would comfort me to know that the reason for that would be the failing physical ability of one Clifford Cornelius Floyd...and not because the Mets couldn't pull off a trade for another outfielder such as Green or Geoff Jenkins. (Preston Wilson, as you know, is now a Cardinal, and off to a good start already...ending all hope of a tearful reunion tomorrow night with Uncle Mookie during 1986 reunion night.)

But can a trade happen? At this point, with Shawn Green back in the Diamondbacks lineup after two "days off", chances dwindle. Besides, not even the Mets are sure they need another outfielder, which troubles me. Because it tells me that either,

• They feel that a guy who hasn't been healthy all season (Floyd) will be perfectly healthy in October...which might be an indication that Floyd is almost 100%, but it also could be wishful thinking. Or...
• They feel that a guy who has been in the minors all season in his mid-30's (Michael Tucker) is a playoff calibre outfielder. The fact that he is always making the highlights for something or other (one game winning dinger, one diving catch) belies the fact that he hasn't been the most productive player in Mets history...kind of like when people say the Packers had the number 7 defense in the NFL and number one against the pass, but nobody passed on the Pack because Green Bay was most likely losing and teams only had to run on them. That's Michael Tucker's Met career so far.

In the early part of this season, the Mets lineup was something special. Not to say that it was smoke and mirrors that made it go, but the lineup had been based as much on presence as it has been on actual ability. The Mets have plenty of actual ability to go around, but Carlos Delgado's mere presence has helped Carlos Beltran and David Wright two fold. A healthy Cliff Floyd and Xavier Nady were above averages presences in the bottom of the lineup. Add in a productive Jose Valentin, and you get a special lineup. Now, you have a lineup that are like most good lineups in the National League...top heavy, but a 6-9 that you could go right after.

To that end, guys like Green or Geoff Jenkins don't necessarily have to come to New York and light the world on fire a la Richard Hidalgo for three weeks in 2004, but they put just enough doubt into an opposing pitcher's head to make the bottom of the order more dangerous than the sum of its parts.

If the Mets are worried about the money that a Green or Jenkins would cost, shame on them...because this team is on the cusp of doing something special. And if they're not in fact "one player away", they're damn close to that state (Hopefully, they're one hitter away instead of one pitcher away). The seven million that Jenkins would cost or even the 13-14 million after negotiations that Shawn Green would cost would pay for itself if it were to bring a championship of some sort to Flushing. Heck with a new ballpark and a new television network, they would probably pay for themselves anyway.

I'm not the C.O.O. (because my father isn't the owner), but if there was ever a time to add payroll, now is it.

If the Mets were worried about the type of prospects it would take to get a deal done, consider that Eric Hinske was wheeled to Boston from Toronto...a division rival...for a player to be named. Can you really see the Brewers, who are in the wild card race like Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt really had a chance which is not really, asking for an arm and a leg for a player who is not only firmly planted on their bench, but was announced to the world as being firmly planted on their bench?

The way it is in baseball now is that the more you pick up in salary, the better the prospects you get to keep. When you put it that way, you're spending millions of dollars to for the difference between a double-A prospect and a low single-A prospect which makes it seem like you're spending millions of dollars on a prospect. But it's the best way to make a move for now while preserving your future. We know the Mets can use all the future they can get.

But the Mets can also use all the present they can get at this point.

***

Tomorrow, the Mets will also celebrate their past by bringing in members of the World Series winner from twenty years ago...and yes that now includes Darryl Strawberry (but it does not include Ed Lynch...and somewhere in a bar in Chicago, a tear is shed).

Meanwhile, in a play that seemed innocuous at the time, Cory Sullivan slid hard into Jose Reyes on Friday night to try to break up what was pretty much an easy double play (also a double play where Reyes didn't come close to touching second base but that's another discussion). The announcers noted that Reyes seemed a little upset about the hard slide...and it brought back memories of when Rockies catcher J.D. Closser broke Joe McEwing's leg with a dirty slide a couple of years back and Braden Looper retaliated in what is his highest point as a Met.

So here's what I'm thinking folks: What better way to honor the 1986 World Champions than to start an all out bean brawl while wearing the throwback '86 uniforms?

Not only would they be honoring their fightin' brethren, not only would they send a message to Mr. Sullivan (however deserved or not it may be) but they would seriously shake up the doldrums during a month and a half stretch that really isn't going to mean anything. Seriously! Who's going to get ejected...Dave Williams? Ha!

Suspensions? I call them "summer vacations" at this point.

So let's harken back to the good ol' days when Ray Knight beat the living crap out of Tom Niedenfuer and Eric Davis and anyone else in his path. Let's bring back more than the uniforms...let's bring back the memories, and let's kick some ass, shall we?

***

And finally, can we call it a coincidence that David Wright breaks out of his slump as we start to see a hint of a goatee during the post game interview? Hope you ladies find goats sexy...because it may be here to stay.

It Takes A Soothsayer

I blame Dave Murray.

When I was a wee one depending on Murph and WWOR for my Mets coverage, games at the old Vet seemed could just as well have been 3,000 miles away as far as I was concerned...even with all of the Mets fans seemingly in attendance. In sixth or seventh grade, Philadelphia was a school trip...which only proved to me how far away it was. Of course, sixth or seventh grade for me was around the time when school trips were actually designed to learn something. Somewhere in my vast piles of what some would call junk but what I would call memorabilia is a 76ers key chain, and an engraved coin from the Franklin mint (some learning experience I had, right?)

The next time I returned to Philadelphia was 1994...this time to actually see some baseball. It was May 29th, and not only did we almost see a combined Phillies no-hitter which would have included David West (!), but we almost saw a woman die as she fainted in the concourse from the 95 degree heat in the 700 section and hit her head on the concrete. Luckily, she made it through. We also saw Mitch Williams return to Philly as an Astro and get booed out of his mind. Fun.

I had been to Philly a few more times for hockey games, but hadn't set foot in the place in 10 years (only passed it by). Now for a guy who was hardly motivated to get out of bed for a Thursday afternoon game at Shea this season (a half hour trip door to gate), it had to be something outrageous to put a seed in me to actually get out of bed at an unworldly hour (which for me is 9AM) and take the world shrinking train known as Amtrak to Philly for an afternoon game.

That "something outrageous" was Dave Murray writing about cheesesteaks.

Yes, the way to my heart is through my stomach. Thanks, Dave.

But losing the past three games in the Bank put a little extra oomph in this trip, because now I put myself on a mission to restore some order in the universe. Yeah, there was still a 12 game lead so it wasn't an emergency. However, with the Mets at their flattest point in the season, it was time for me to put my undefeated road record on the line in the teeth of the beast: Philadelphia.

And if it didn't work, at least I'll have some cheesesteaks.

So off I went...on what started out as a day trip to see the Mets in Philly for the very first time.

It ended as perhaps one of my most insane days spent as a Met fan.

Let me start off by saying that Amtrak absolutely screwed me today. You would figure that a 10:35AM train (scheduled for a 11:55AM Philadelphia arrival) would be more than sufficient for a 1:05 start. One problem: the train was moving so slow that I could swear I saw Greg Luzinski outrun it. The train left fifteen minutes late. By 11:15 it was still in Elizabeth. By 12:15 it was still in Trenton. And by 12:30 I had officially lost all hope of seeing the top of the first inning (considering I didn't yet have a ticket).

Twelve forty five p.m. is when my train finally rolls (ambles) into Philadelphia. I'm now officially screwed...and nowhere was it more evident was when I got to the ticket window and asked what they had for one seat, figuring between cancellations and what have you, I might get a good seat.

"So how does it feel to be swept by the Phillies?" -Phillies fan towards Metstradamus while on the ticket line.

"When your team becomes an object in my rear view mirror, I'll answer your question." -my reply

Instead, standing room only was all that was left.

All of a sudden, I felt like Caesar from the movie "Heaven Help Us" when he's at the prom...and I think it was Rooney that told him that a girl wanted to dance with him, and Caesar's classic reply was: "Caesar doesn't dance." I felt like telling the ticket vendor that "Metstradamus doesn't stand".

Now after three losses you would think that my presence in Philly would mean that there would be some hell to pay for the Phillie faithful. Now I'm told I have to stand? Forget about it folks, at that point, the Phillies have already lost.

So you guessed it, I missed the top of the first and also the first Met run. At this typing, I still have no flippin' clue how the Mets got that first run. Oh, and I'm standing. But we did get a giveaway! Fans received a matted painting of Tom Gordon with the title "Pride of the Phillies".

Tom Gordon is the Pride of the Phillies? Have our standards sunk so low that it only takes four and a half months to become the pride of an entire franchise? Is he the luckiest man left on the face of the earth now?

The tide turned in that second inning...two sac bunts, two run scoring singles. When Mike DiFelice knocked one home, was there any hope left for the Phillies? I mean, they've renamed the Mendoza Line after DiFelice...and he knocked one home? This was a guy the Phillies didn't even have a picture for to show on the scoreboard and he's knocking Scott Mathieson around. Good times.

So in the third inning, it's time to head off to Ashburn Alley to finally get me some cheesesteak. Now Dave mentioned Pat's and Geno's as the two most famous places for cheesesteaks...but I had some inside info. My mole from Philly (a Temple student who incidentally has the same full name as a prominent Cardinals pitcher from the 1980's) told me that not only was Tony Luke's his favorite, but there was a Tony Luke's at the ballpark which actually was not a cheap imitation. I was sold.

And so were a lot of cheesesteaks, as you can clearly see by the long line in the picture above. At $7.50 a pop, they were obviously jacked up from what I was told they usually cost in a regular Tony Luke's ($4.00), but well worth it. I brought a few home for the family and let me say that they keep well.

The Mets kept well today too, as Carlos Delgado broke out of his slump large today, with two home runs and a triple (yes, a triple...although one Phillies fan tried to blame it on the fact that David Dellucci is more of a left fielder than a right fielder). Keep Carlos' big day in mind. It's a key part of my adventure.

• 2:18 PM: Carlos Delgado's second home run makes it 6-2 Mets.
• 2:20 PM: The first remnants of an "E-A-G-L-E-S-EAGLES!" chant emanates from the Phillie Phaithphul.

Not that I saw a lot of the game mind you...between long lines for cheesesteaks and constantly peering over fans heads while doing about three laps around the lower rung of the stadium looking for an unreserved place to stand I barely caught much of the action. But the one thing I'll take away from this game, and it will keep my heart warm during those cold winter months, is that Pat Burrell might well be more hated in his own city as he is at Shea Stadium. If you didn't hear the massive boos Burrell received during the game today, consider this exchange after Burrell popped out to third with runners on first and third and one out in the sixth:

Phillie fan number one: Come on Pretty Boy Dellucci, get a hit!

Phillie fan number two: That's not the pretty boy, the pretty boy just popped out.

Phillie fan number three: Burrell's not a pretty boy...he's a piece of s**t!!!

Is there a Phillie blog with a hate list? Please Lord, let it be so.

There was also a humorous moment around the sixth inning, as a woman seemingly tried to look over my head at something, so I ducked to get out of her way. Then she ducked, so being the good sport I am I leaned away. She leaned towards me. I changed direction. She leaned towards me again. It took me a couple of minutes of trying to be a gentleman and get out of her way only to have her move in a position to where I was blocking her to realize:

She's trying to look at my hat.

I claim to be a soothsayer. I never claimed to be very bright. (P.S. My hat was a Mr. Met model.)

So the game is over and the Mets have emerged victorious, just as I have planned, and my road record remains unblemished at a whopping 3-0. As I'm trying to figure out just how much the outcome made up for my horrid commute to the Bank, while watching a thousand little Phillie fan children run the bases in a cute recreation of the first two games of this series, little did I realize that the fun was just beginning.

The Phillies website claims that guest services will call you a taxi if needed. That is a lie. Guest services merely sent me out to the third base gate where I was given the impression that there would be taxis as bountiful as marshmallows in a perfect box of Lucky Charms...yet in fact there were none. So here I go on a Quixote like chase around the Bank for a taxi stand.

I didn't see a taxi, but I did see lots of vendors hawking knock off "Dallas Sucks, T.O. is a Jerk" shirts. And what else, or should I say, who else did I see passing by me in my so far fruitless attempt to find a taxi?

Why it's former Mets first baseman Keith Hernandez!

Before you ask, I resisted the urge to say "nice game, pretty boy." Keith was gracious to all that recognized him outside of the park...which was like, one person. But Keith was gracious.

Finally, finally, I find a taxi that takes me back to 30th street station to catch the Amtrak back home. I get there about an hour before my scheduled trip back (taking into account extra innings and such), so I go on the ticket line to try to exchange my ticket for an earlier ride. I notice a couple of other Met fans...an older man and his son, I think...staring at me in my David Wright all star jersey (which is the same color as the vendor shirts at Citizens Bank, just in case you were curious) and here I am in my arrogance thinking they want to start a conversation with me about the game. I would have been more than obligatory, except they were staring more through me than at me. And for the life of me couldn't figure out why as the line filled significantly with people.

About ten minutes later, I notice the son, who is ahead of me in the line that was wrapping around, take out a magazine and hand it to someone behind me in said ticket line at Philly's version of Penn Station. Before I knew it, the magazine was being signed. I have a celebrity behind me?

Better.

It was my second encounter with a Met first baseman, and I figure this time I'm have to say something. I'm a blogger, right? Words flow from my pallet like the River Thames. Surely I can come up with the quintessential statement to not only crystallize my thoughts but dazzle the intellect of the man who had two homers and a triple today, right?

"Hey Carlos, great game today."

"Thank you."

Five hundred some odd blogs of experience to draw on, and that's the best I could do folks.

The father of the duo in front of me actually asked a legitimate question.

"Two home runs today and you can't even go back with the team?"

Like I said, a legitimate question.

The answer didn't matter...partly because I didn't hear it clearly, but mostly because here's Carlos Delgado, hero to the masses, traveling with the masses.

Man of the people.

So let's review, Keith Hernandez and Carlos Delgado...within five feet of Metstradamus, in the span of an hour. These things happen in threes, right? So which Met first baseman was I going to encounter on the way home? Would it be Rico Brogna in Penn Station? Mike Jorgensen on the 7 train? Dave Kingman in my apartment discussing women's lib with my wife? My life had become a game of "Clue" (I have Mo Vaughn, in the kitchen, with a rolling pin.)

Bizarre...truly bizarre. And all because I was in the mood for a cheesesteak!

Thanks Dave.

Have You Seen Us?

If found, please call 718-507-TIXX.

The Stampede Continues

Oh yeah, Philly? Let's see the Eagles score this much!

If 2006 was more like say, 2004, then the following statistical oddity would be a microcosm of the franchise. But against the backdrop of a season of domination, it's just weird:

Jose Reyes has performed two of the rarest tasks in baseball in one season. He's hit for the cycle, and now he's hit three home runs in a game. I can't imagine anybody having done both in one season.

The Mets have lost both games. Figures, eh?

(P.S. The only other player since 1900 to hit for the cycle and hit three home runs in a game in one season...and do both in his team's losses: Jim King for the 1964 Senators. Now go win some bar bets with that and have a beer on me!)

You want microcosms? How about the fact that Orlando Hernandez is the first Met pitcher to give up eleven runs in a game. The first! Ladies and gentlemen, this is a franchise that fans used to call around to ask how they did...and after being told the Mets scored 19 runs, the fans would ask "oh that's nice, did they win?"

This franchise had Roger Craig. This franchise had Anthony Young. This franchise employed Frank Tanana when he was so old, doctors would cut off the tip of his finger to count the rings. Glendon Rusch. Pete Schourek. Charlie Puleo.

Victor Zambrano!

And yet, Mr. Battle Tested Clutch Yankee is at the top of the Met record book mountain for none other than giving up eleven runs. Great job.

Speaking of the Yankees, how about this for a microcosm: SNY showed the Mets stats after the game...with a Yankee logo on the left side of the screen!

"Hey, why did you get fired from the Mets network?"

"I put a Yankee logo where the Mets logo should have been."

Except that this Mets owned network is so Yankee conscious, that guy would probably get promoted for his A-Rodian slip. I'm not going to continue on my usual rant, but I fully expect Aaron Boone's home run against the Red Sox to be spliced at the end of the next Met classic...right over Buckner's error, perhaps!

Back to the game...wait, do we have to go back?

Tonight was another spankin' courtesy of everyone's favorite salary dumpers, the Philadelphia Phillies. This time, it was Hernandez who couldn't get out of the first inning unscathed...although there are no reported problems with Orlando's calf (he's just old). Speaking of calves, does it worry you that there was an MRI on Pedro's tight calf, yet there will be no news until tomorrow? Straun Coleman, the club physician, has seen the results. Yet there is a need to study them overnight. That, my friends, is not good. What exactly is there to study? A strain? A tear?

Termites?

And if Pedro is injured, does he go back to the Browns with Lee Suggs? (Then again, maybe their MRI's got switched and that's the root of the confusion.)

The Dodgers played cloak and dagger with Kirk Gibson's injuries all throughout the 1988 World Series...will he play? Won't he play? The Mets taking an extra day to study Pedro Martinez's calf reeks of that cloak and dagger, and it tells me the news isn't going to be very good at all. Call me pessimistic if you wish (and I know you will), but something tells me that this is not a drill.

Someone ought to tell Lastings Milledge that this isn't a drill either. Oh and while you're at it, please tell him that the white thing flying at him does not, I repeat: does not have sharp metal spikes sticking out of them, has not been infected with bird flu, and will not give him cooties. There's no need to be afraid.