Mets Spank Yanks 13-2, that's right 13-2, to Semi-Sweep

It was a victory Mets Nation deserved, prevailing against great obstacles. The Mets overcame ChUmpire Bob Davidson on the field, while fans overcame ESPN himbo's Jon and Joe, their Yankee homerdom (Jon revealed he spent the pregame hanging out in the Spanks clubhouse, and actually offered to buy the team during the broadcast!), and general stupidity (Morgan's 9th inning claim that Reyes and STD had to be able to dance--like a fullback??). Offensively, it was Reyes, Wright and Alou producing like the blue(and orange) print says they do, and there was no separating Church from Plate.

Davidson made one of the worst calls in recent memory, reversing Mike Reilly's correct call of a fair ball off the foul pole, apparently at the special request of Super Terrific Derek and Johnny Traitor. It was so egregious an error, even the boneheads in the booth could tell this was a screw job. I watched the game under protest and shall record the final score as 13-2. The whole sordid affair was made doubly tragic by the robbing of Carlos Delgado, a guy who really can use every HR and RBI he gets. Bring on the Br*ves!!

ESPN considering these gentlemen to take over Sunday night baseball

Mets Win NYC Gagging Rights for the Day

Met fan contemplates the Subway Series.
(pics swiped from this hilarious site)


Emma at Eephus Pitch couldn't have described this season's Subway Series any better: "Resistible Force vs. Movable Object." When the mediocre Mets meet the last place Spankers, someone has to lose. Unless Bud Selig is involved, there are no ties in baseball. The sad-sack Mets managed to eek out a W from the tail-spinning, Arod-less Spankers. Bragging rights have given way to gagging rights.

I can't say I went into the game with a positive mindset. Even though the Mets have a winning record and are in the thick of the NL East race, Mets fans are currently having their tailgate parties out on the ledge. As usual the so-called MLB "Extra Innings" declined to carry this game although Faux Network didn't even feign interest, and they didn't call their national customers to apologize. And listening to the YES broadcast was so painful, you can understand why Paul Simon bought tickets to the game to avoid listening to the mindless prattle.

When Super Terrific Derek (STD) took Johan Santana yard right off the bat, so to speak, I started to make the move from "fed up" to "disgusted."* I mean, the Mets can get the best pitcher in baseball, overcome adversity, call meetings, feign unity, but still Jeter or Larry will be there to deflate them. The Mets looked to be in more trouble than Nelson Figueroa is with Jenny Finch.

Mindless base running is a key indicator of the problems Mets have keeping their heads in the game, committing personally to help this team win. After another "senor moment"-- the second inning pick off of Moises Alou--I started the shift from rooting for the Mets to just rooting against the Yankees. I'm not proud of this, but it's easier on my heart.

Then the semi-remarkable happened. The ball started to bounce in favor of the Flushing Folks and the Mets overcame the built-in baseball god Spankee biases. Brian Schneider revives his reputation as a defensive catcher by blocking the plate from notorious pansy Johnny Traitor, not enough to make us forget about the Jesus becoming a phenom for about $10 million less in DC, but it was the kind of heartbreaking play the Spanks usually use to stomp us.

The Spanks were up to their old baseball god manipulating tricks, but even these didn't work. Bottom of the sixth, the second base ump Alfonso Marquez makes a safe call followed by an out call on STD as the Captain heroically tried to stretch a single into a double. Problem was, STD never even touched the bag. How could he be safe without occupying the bag? Did Jeter call time out as he slid into the bag? The only things that can explain Marquez' initial default safe call are ineptitude or the Steinbrenner checks he cashes to feed his secret gambling habit. Either way, Marquez should be disciplined and ridiculed.


But are we Mets fans overreacting?

You knew it had to happen, as Santana tired in the 8th, the Mouth from the South got the call to pin down the 4 out save, something squarely within his job description. Would the poetic injustice continue? Eighth inning so far so good. Joe Girrardia brings in the super hyped Joba and Buntran smacks a triple--could this be the Mets day? With a key chance to tack on some runs in the top of the ninth--a man on third and one out--Alou struck out looking on a pitch that looked outside (YES demurred to show us the overhead camera view) to bring up Delgadoh! And wouldn't you know it, Carlost got the job done, wacking Joba's offering down the first base line to plate Beltran. Then in the ninth, after letting two guys on and bringing the tying run to the plate, Wags struck out the immortal Morgan Ensberg on six pitches and evil was turned away once again.

The Mets 13 hit attack was paced by (gasp!) the top and middle of the line up. The ball bounced their way. Tonight we can party like its 2006. Bottom line, the Mets got the win they needed badly, and I can back away from the ledge a bit.



Will a Subway Sweep be enough to save the Mets season?

*(can you locate yourself on this helpful scale?)

The 2008 Metfan Sanity Scale

not as happy as I could be
not thrilled
irked
malaisey
disgruntled
fed up
disgusted
pissed
reciting rosary
apoplectic
Lo Duca
blotto
gone to safe place
danger to others
lose control of bodily functions
wake up with blood on hands and no memory
danger to myself
move to cabin to facilitate rage
new Royals fan

Willie Wears Welcome, Regular Rooters Realize Rudolph Revoltin'

The Washington Nationals ruminate over how easy it is to beat the Mets.

Even in good times, the climate we Mets fans operate in is best described as hysterical, not in the ha-ha way but in the pull the children in-doors, out-of-proportion with reality way. Right now, after another demoralizing loss against the last place gNats, Mets skipper Willie Randolph best travel only at night and avoid open roads, because the bloggers are headed to the barricades with torches. It has gotten so bad that my suggestion of the ritual sacrifice of Rick Down has not been taken up by any serious observer. The trigger for the recent organization of internet posses targeting Willie for dismissal, as could have been predicted, is the usage of one Aaron "Poopeyface" Heilman, he of game 7 of the 2006 NLCS. In the eyes of Metsfan observers who have yet to claw said eyes out, having received a passable start from retread Claudio Vargas, Randolph maliciously squandered this gift by bringing in shell-shocked Errant Hellman to put the game out of the reach of the Mets awful-fence. Added to the fun, the Mets showed neither fire nor discipline in the proper measure. Under Willie's watch, older player Moises Alou (with the games he has missed in his career, it is arguable to call Alou a "veteran") made the decision to take his hot, healthy bat out of the line-up over a strike call. Is this the discipline and experience Omar Minaya had in mind when he infused the roster with the elderly? Instead of building on Maine's Message and Vargas' Valour, Willie blew it out his ass. And Mets fans have had enough.

Let's look at how a successful team manages its games with Nationals. The first place Marlins (payroll $20 million) have treated the Nats like a cellar dwelling resource, a bottom-dwelling bank, beating them 8 out of 9 times. Take 8 games off of the Marlins 23-17 record and see where they are in the standings. How have the Mets handled Warden Acta and the D.C. Offenders? A less dominating 5 and 3. Emotionally, having suffered a couple of blowouts at the Nats' hands, the team doesn't view the Nats with any swagger whatsoever--it's the Nats chanting in the dugout--and in most matchups so far, doesn't look superior to the Washington club. To win the NL East, the Mets need to beat teams like this soundly. Instead they find ways to lose.

***
What the Mets are missing. (note energy and fun, note high-five, note player available in trade for Lastings Milledge at one point)

At last!!

The quest for certainty has been man's preoccupation since at least Descartes. Reflecting upon the visit of the last place Nationals to Shea, whereupon the band of misfits easily walloped our local boys and presumptive contenders, we can now say two things with all the confidence in the world.

1. Figuero sucks. And I say this in the nicest possible way. Figgy literally pitched and played his way to designation (for assignment). For good measure, he threw away a key ball to the plate. It was fun having a well-traveled Mets fan pitching for us, but enough is enough. A good back story isn't enough to be a regular feature for a team with playoff aspirations. Every inning before the first pitch, the Nats would trot out to man first and second base to start things off, or at least it seemed that way. If you can't handle the other team's pitcher (O. Perez, 3-3, 2RBI), well. It's a pity Figueroa couldn't harness any anger he might have felt when Elijah Dukes, apparently high on his own supply, led a bizarre little league cheer for fellow socially awkward outfielder Lastings Milledge as he batted.

2. Sosa. Sucks. I don't mean that in quite so gentle a way as with #1. There's nothing else to say on that score.

I don't care if they give a guy named Guiseppe a start, the pitchin needs fixin. Still to be grappled with are the following questions: Did you think they had a shot to come back at 6-3? 10-3? Have they come back from a sizable deficit this season yet? Does this team have a higher gear? At least the Mets are falling behind in one key area. The WNBA finally came up with a slogan dumber than the '07 Mets ("Your season has come"): "Expect Great." What is their target audience, illiterates?

Fire Rick Down.

"It's Mother's Day today at Shea, so to all you mothers out there, Happy Birthday."

There is no better way to start something, a post, a sermon, a suicide note, whathaveyou, then with a quote or paraphrase from Ralph Kiner.

Not Ralph Kiner but also, nobody's mother.

In honor of mothers everywhere, I present the "Mother of all game recaps."
First game. It was all about the Carlos. The Mets pitching was nothing to write home about. They won handily.

Second game. Keith was very vocal, expressing his love for Metsblog and Xavier Nady. Most interestingly, as revealed in the SNY broadcast's Ask the Booth feature, Keith says as a player he never read a book during the downtime between double headers, because it would ruin his focus, presumably on the baseball. Unlike Budweiser and cigarettes.

The Muncher started the second game in typical fashion (high pitches, no ability to put hitters away) except he HAD NO MOUTHPIECE!! Why did no one notice he had no 'piece? He just doesn't seem to know how to pitch yet. We should ease up on Pelf since it is only his third season in professional ball, and by the third inning, he had settled down enough to record a 1-2-3 inning. By the fourth, of course, Pelf had thrown 400 pitches, though throughout the game he was a victim of dinks dropping in between the infield and outfield.

Although they've scored 24 runs in their last two outings, the Mets awfulfense is still not picking up runs when it can which, I'm told, is the key to winning at the baseball game. With bases loaded in the second inning after a gift error from the Reds, newly activated HEAD! struck out embarrassingly. Third inning, Wright comes up with Reyes on third and 1 out against human joke Bronson Arroyo and ex-Met hero Keppenger can't handle the ball at short. Kep must've been livid after that bobble, since he probably hates the Mets franchise as much as some Met fan boys love him; of course he was in the middle of a 5 for 5 night. Then Wright was inexplicably gunned down at the plate on a Beltran double to the wall, after bearing down on the Reds plate-blocking catcher with all the grit of a princess on the way to the ball.

Later after the game got out of hand, and long after I had turned my attentions to the NBA playoffs/napping, Willie trots out Billy "I don't do non-save situations" Wagner for some walking, dueling Wright and Delgado errors, followed by some gatorade cooler abuse. If the guy doesn't want to come in in non-save situations at this point in his tenure with the Mets, then I really don't see the point of "getting him some work" since he almost always sucks in these situations, added to the new possibility that he'll hurt himself punching a cooler.

One step forward, one step back. How they gonna catch the Marlins (in terms of world series, the most successful franchise in the NL East by the way) by treading a couple games over .500?

Willie: "I'm no genius. I'm just trying to lead my club."

Is there a Vast Media Conspiracy Directed at Willie?

Willie Randolph is getting it from all sides--even his brother is taxing the poor guy (click link for title quote too). I've never been a big fan, but in this post I advance the thesis that it is possible the hog piling on Willie has gotten out of control. Bloggers would probably reject the idea that they are being led by the nose by the "old" media, but it seems clear that the media is nurturing stories where none yet exist. And far more respectable bloggers than I are calling for heads to roll.

Willie was not fired for last season's collapse, but now it seems that the team's mediocre start is leading people to see the malaise as cumulative. There are even reports that Willie is about to be evaluated. Dan Graziano thinks Willie needs to learn to manage a bunch of losers:

But unfortunately for Randolph, his players are soft. His players are the types who don't raise their games in big spots, who do take at-bats off. His players coast through long stretches of the season, assuming their talent will carry them through without any extra effort or emotion on their part. His players are not self-motivators, and they are a group that might respond well to being scared every now and then.

Willie is shrugging most it off, but draws the line at the claim that he has lost his players:

Randolph was dismayed last week that closer Billy Wagner criticized the team, preferring him to have done it behind closed doors.
Randolph said: "I'm as close to my players and my players respect me as much as any team I've ever been around.
"That's dangerous when you start saying things that you don't know about, just because you're searching for things to talk about. That's very, very dangerous. If it's true that's one thing, but if it's not ... ."

Meanwhile, all the sudden the greatest active managers in Mets history are getting some serious play in the press. Davey Johnson is getting some love. The Daily News ran a great interview with Johnson where he reminisces about the 80s Mets clubs he managed to glory or near glory.

Lookin' good now, eh?
Meanwhile Bobby V has a freakin' documentary devoted to him (linkage appropriated from CSTB) and the column inches to go with it. So what gives media? Did the invitation to Willie's birthday party get lost in the mail? What are the viable options? Bobby V., with his "progressive and creative baseball mind and his Veeckian flair for showmanship," was banished to the land of the rising sun and he isn't coming walking through that door folks.



Before we throw our heads back to bay for blood we should stop to consider a few questions. Do we really want Willie to start flipping burgers (see below) instead of toasting subs? We're being primed for a serious shakeup at the managerial level, but is chaos and a voyage into the unknown what's best for this team? If the Mets are under-inspired, then any manager firing would have to be timed perfectly to motivate unless we want to kiss this season goodbye. And the Wilpons are no lock to show good timing or discretion when it comes to selecting new management. It says here, if Willie was going to be fired, the time to sack Willie would have been after the collapse, not while the team is in the middle of an identity crisis and could probably go either way. I'm not saying that Omar should stand pat, or that I think Willie is the ideal manager, but I am saying that constant flux is not a hallmark of solid organizations. Finding a good plan and sticking to it is what we wanted Omar to do in the first place, remember?

QuesTek for Your Baseball Library: Meet the Mets 2008

I have long planned to bring a modicum of respectability to this blog by engaging in informative, thought-provoking reviews of every book ever written about the Mets or baseball. While I now have quite a collection of baseball books, nary a peep has been heard from me. The original launch date of this fabulous feature was going to be this past off-season, but between the bipolar lows of the collapse and highs of the Santana landing, I never got it off the ground. Also, I set my standards too high. I read books for a living. So, unlike the daily content of this blog, I'd have to think through and edit what I wrote about the books I reviewed, seeing as the authors or editors most likely put some effort into them, and it would be unfair to treat them with the dismissive and jocular tones I treat the rest of reality with (let's face it, reality deserves it). Plus, maybe they'd get mad. Anyhow, in the future I plan to evaluate books inside and outside of the baseball literary cannon for quality and Mets content, as well as bring to your attention more obscure baseball related writings when possible. Like QuesTek, these entries will strive to be impartial if fallible, sometimes a pain in the ass, but ultimately provide a baseline for your decision to tear yourself away from the TV and pick up a damn book. Of course, also like Questek, I hope to piss off Tom Glavine at every opportunity.


Meet the Mets 2008: An Annual Guide to New York Mets Baseball. Edited by Matthew Silverman and Greg Spira. Maple Street Press.

Why start here? (other than the book was sent to me gratis?) Meet the Mets is the kind of book that, though it could be enjoyed on the beach late in the summer, for full effect should be read before, or in the early stages of the season. Since it's kind of time sensitive, I thought I'd weigh in and give you my opinion as to whether this is worth buying. Better late than never.

These type of annuals, often published to make a quick buck by some obscure publishing house's editorial board that has equal expertise in the fields of auto racing, marijuana, and recipes, are often filled with shoddy content, shitty photos, and dated, forgettable analysis. They are normally disappointing both because of the lack of care put into their design, and the real time alternatives available on the interwebs. The editors of Meet the Mets have avoided these pitfalls, producing a spunky little number chock full of useful, mostly illuminating pieces. And I don't throw around the phrase chock full without reflection. The best move, for my money, was to spice up the 22 or so features with a historical feel: vintage photographs and articles on seasons past give the volume heft that would be missing if it was entirely devoted to the club's recent travails, capsule team reviews, and future predictions. The guide seems to have started production a bit earlier than the completion of the Santana saga, so the editors should be commended for pulling off relevancy in the midst of ground-shaking change. The annual is divided into three sections--2008 Mets, the farm system, and Mets history--that don't quite capture the content, but that's a minor quibble to aim at such a nice package. The 112 pages are glossy and without advertising. And whoopie, you'll find familiar names from high-quality Mets blogs on the table of contents.

There is plenty of unique content here to set Meet the Mets apart. In honor of Shea's final season, there are several articles that deal with Shea's legacy and look ahead to Citifield's impact, architecturally and otherwise. Tara Kriegler's article and the accompanying photos put Citifield in context nicely. Vince Gennaro's piece on the economics of qualifying for the playoffs, broadcasting, and opening a new stadium is thought provoking, particularly how the dynamics of Citifield debt will lead to a situation where the post-2009 clubs "can no longer afford to lose."

Most helpful, psychologically speaking, are the handful of articles devoted to a retrospective on "the collapse." Reading these, I realized how thoroughly I had repressed all memories of September; I remember only the unreality of the event, not the details. With the help of articles like Greg Prince's "Rouges Gallery," which reminds us of the villains and their crimes, I can face my demons and let the healing begin. I always remembered why I hate Ronnie Belliard, but now I recognize why the utterance of the name "Greg Dobbs" makes me clench my fists. Metswalkoffs anonymously contributes a nice little encapsulation of their blog's content. Perhaps less useful a couple months into the season are the articles assessing the 2008 Mets and their competitors (current 1st place St Louis Cardinals "unlikely to be a factor"), yet these are thoughtful and competently presented too.

In sum, I'd recommend picking this up for the beach or a long commute--it's only 13 bucks anyway. The content has been selected with care, obviously the work of experienced, loving fans. If you need evidence, I will only say that there is Ralph Kiner content. There are standard questions I intend to answer for every book I review, such as "would I buy this if it wasn't sent to me for free/loaned to me?" I might have overlooked it on the newsstand, but after reading it, yes, I would. I look forward to next season's edition, where the editors will face the challenge of duplicating their success without the "benefit" of a monumental collapses (cross fingers) or Shea's final season, perhaps scoring some more interviews and continuing to exploit bloggerland for articles.

Verdict: 4 out of 5 Mookies



You can visit the book publisher's hype here. The book is available on NY area newsstands, pharmacies, supermarkets, and if that fails, online.