Mets Have Wright to Umplain*

I considered typing this post in braille, so the umpiring crew from last night could enjoy it too.

It is no surprise that Tom Glavine did not have what it takes to beat the Br*ves; he never has and probably never will. And it isn't a wonder that John Smoltz had a gay old time against the toothless Mets, either. The real story last night was the (ch)umps. Blame the refs you say? That's a lame strategy you say. Well normally blaming the umps isn't my go-to move, but this game screams for retribution. In fact, I watched the game under protest. And I'm sure the MLB administration will answer my letter as soon as they get around to answering my DirecTV letter of complaint.

This umpiring crew, who shall go unnamed, is like a Mets Rouges Gallery. But they were beyond bad last night. Balls, strikes, pick offs, punch outs, they flubbed it all. I bet they didn't even dust off homeplate. It was enough to piss off the Pope. It is unbelievable that they get away with it. As John Smoltz might say, "what's next, marrying an animal?"

I used to joke about whether Willie was paying attention to the game, but now I am seriously wondering. I disagree wholeheartedly with anyone who thinks Willie should have sat on his sub loving hands last night. Whatever one's position on the usefulness of arguing, no one really knows what impact it has on the game. But these guys get paid like entertainers, do drugs like entertainers, so...entertain us at least for the love of Mookie!

However, I was flabergasted to find that some people find the idea of Willie going out and fighting for his team as bizzare and troubling as Ronnie James Dio singing the theme song for Batman.

It's just my opinion, but in this case the argument for Willie arguing is much stronger than usual. Who knows for sure? No one. And while it is debatable and ultimately unprovable how much of an impact the umps had, but cmon, bases loaded in a low scoring game against our most hated rivals with the Mets best guy up there, and he gets rung up by a shitty and totally unnecessary call? If that's not a game breaker for you, than pass the doobie brother. Did the Mets loose the game for other reasons? Sure, but that's besides the point--they had the GREAT SATAN on the ropes and the umps jumped in between.

As I said last night to no one in particular, that shit happens to the Br*ves and Bobby Cox is out there as fast as his 79 year old hips will carry him. Why does he do it? I imagine a shrewd manager who goes balistic on an obviously flubbed call is not only firing up his team, but putting social pressure on the ump in front of thousands of fans to make the next call in his team's favor; by the way, there was an opportunity for payback in this game.

As for the argument that Willie needs to keep his composure if he wants to impersonate the manager of a first place team, I say nonsense. If Willie lays down, shows no passion, and stays in the dugout like a scared rabbit, if he is the true leader of the squad, you have to think that perhaps they will follow his lead. David Wright obviously was passionate about the call, at least. And if Willie is going to continue to make questionable tactical decisions (batting Franco, not calling for a bunt), than some would argue he needs to get his WWF on and do something to help his team, like protect Wright, who obviously had no compunction about showing passion, after that horrendous call.

Plus as other commentators over at Metsblog for instance have noted, Willie gets tossed and you get the added bonus of the chance Manuel bats the Easlinator instead of the Retiree in the key spot.

The result of last night's game? Well, the Mets are still in first. They are in first while the entire team seemingly slumps. And though I feel that the Mets should never ever have Tom Glavine start against the Br*ves, he did only allow two runs. But you have to assume that the Br*ves know they can beat the Mets in any series, and that confidence can't hurt them at all.

Oh well, the Mets take on the Marlins tonight. Here, fishy fishy.

* title courtesy of Mr. Cver, now playing at a theater nowhere near you.