The Curse of ESPN's Sunday Night Baseball Continues

As Joe Morgan and Jon Miller noted, ESPN's Sunday night baseball broadcasts are at the long end of a precipitous slide in quality and content that begin back when Red Barber did the play by play for the very first televised baseball game back in 1939. Ok, well they did mention the part about Red Barber.

Actually to cut them some slack, the ESPN baseball himbos put together a relatively informative, mostly inoffensive little show tonight. We learned that the Mets have never even once this season put together a winning streak of more that 4 games. Morgan even got off a decent line about sliding into first: "I never saw Carl Lewis dive at the finish line." I never saw Carl Lewis inject himself with performance enhancing drugs, but that's besides the point. Morgan thinks Pedro's mere presence will help the Mets, apparently by energizing the "Latin community." Care to explain that one Joe? Is it because of the literature Pedro will hand out at the games, or the posters he will hang? Because he's a good dancer?

This game was lost the instant a 400lb David Wells bunted on the Mets defense for a base hit. You can't win and let that happen. It says that in the bible somewhere I think. Actually maybe it was really over when Moises Alou struck out in the 5th with the sacks drunk on a 69 mph curve. Or, strike that, it was definitely over when the entire Mets pitching staff could not manage to discover the third out of the 6th inning. Whatever, Maine looked good until the wheels came off, but only 3 of the 6 runs were earned thanks to the wooden (or tin) play of Jeff "If I Only Had a Glove"Conine and Lastings "make it a triple" Milledge.

I thought the Mets had a chance when in the 5th, LA's Kemp, after chasing his tail at second, killing the Dodger's rally and keeping the Mets within one run was mercifully picked off 3rd base before he screwed up again, or when John Maine (with his eyes open) beaned eternal offensive force and swell guy Jeff Kent. And it turned out not to matter much that Alomar Sr. is an awful third base coach, throwing up a late stop sign, then actually finding himself between the ROOk and third base as Milledge tried in vain to get back. I know it says somewhere that the 3rd base coach should never get between the runner and the bag. The Rook has looked ok in the 2 hole, but the team was really cookin' with Castillo there, so I think that's the way Willie needs his gut to tell him to go.

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By the way, for any worldwideleader producers who may be reading, neither myself nor any of the brotherhood missed the segment in your national broadcast revealing the secrets of Rick Peterson's mystical triangle of pitching. Duly noted. You should know, as you look over your shoulder, that the triangle is intellectual property, property that has been paid with by blood over the centuries that we of the Jacketed Brotherhood have guarded its three profound sides. The relationship between "physical conditioning," "mental toughness" and "fundamentals" is not meant for public consumption. It is certainly not meant for Joe Morgan. While the sacred triangle might be "too complicated" for Morgan, we will be defending it with our lives if necessary. If you think, ESPN, that you will burn in hell for the "Budweiser Hotseat" feature or Stuart Scott's speaking parts, well my friends, you ain't seen nothing yet.

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Joe Morgan, Marlon Anderson (pictured) wants you to call him asap!

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What is up with those awful AT&T "your world is wireless" commercials? The two ads feature the wonderful nightmare we have to look forward to: mobile phone use on airplanes and in movie theaters. Are they serious? Why not show a surgeon taking a call in the middle of a brain operation, or the wonderful talking while on the toilet phenomenon? Maybe they explain themselves in this 800 page iphone bill somewhere. Hmmm. Not clear what horrific future AT&T has planned for us, but suffice to say, it is the opposite of what we want.

***
This wasn't what I would call a discouraging loss. I mean, we have to let LA win once in a while so the Dodgers will come back next year, right?

Mets get into the driver's seat, dispatch LA

Watching the game broadcast yesterday, what could have been an embarrassing case of the befuddled interviewing the impaired turned out ok. It was nice to hear Tim McCarver and Ralph Kiner reunited, chatting away during the third inning while Kenny Albert adjusted his tie. I didn't even know Fux Network was capable of nice touches, but judging by some comments, fans rediscovered the charms of a Joe Buckless TIMMY; he was for me, a voice of the Mets until the brass forced him out. Meditate on Ralph's assessment of David Wright's current season compared to last years: "Maybe even closer to being greater." I think that about says it.

I was worried that I would have to add Dodger's catcher Russel "Gaybeard" Martin to my shit list. I have coveted him since he became LA's main catcher and offensive force; hey the Dodgers got rid of Paul loDuca right? But yesterday he came off as kind of a hothead, apparently taking issue with El Duque's apparent taking issue with him waving his elbow in, trying to get hit by a pitch. I caught him making a macho fake throw down to third with the basesloaded latter that made me arch my brow. However, he sounded professional and mature in his postgame comments.

Yesterday's warm, but strange, moment came when Carlost Delga'doh came thruough big time upon receiving a standing ovation from the crowd. First of all, why fans boo Delgado is beyond me. But why they suddenly decided to throw their vocal support behind him, I really don't know. Then, to make it even more bizarre, the Shea public address system played "Domo arigoto Mr. Roboto." What am I missing here, I thought. Matthew Cerrone has cleared this up with his theory that Roboto rhymes with Delgado. But sometimes it seems that it is just as likely that Delgado's career has crossed the River Styx, or that he will be playing in Japan next year.

Tonight we will probably get to hear Joe Morgan's expert take on David Wells' pitching, and how he once wore an antique Yankers hat on the mound when he was a Yankme. This will no doubt lead into some incisive ruminations about Derek Jeter. Luckily I won't hear any of this because the sound will be muted on my tv set. For our suffering, I ask the baseball gods, please let John Maine survive the 6th inning.

The past week's events--the Mets improved play combined with the implosion of its nearest competition--have led some to conclude that the NL east race is over, and led nationally oriented commentators to take the Mets seriously as a league wide contender for the World Series. It is fun to enjoy this team jelling offensively and overcoming its pitching setbacks. But I don't know if I recommend savoring this until there is a stake in the heart of a certain team from Atlanta.

If the Mets do pull away, I'll be spending more time rooting for the Mariners to retain their small lead over the Yankees. This postseason, I want to party like its 1986.

I just got one of these; seems like required equipment for the creative fan, though I'm not sure what to do with it.

Insert Wright Pun Here

How can that many David Wright's be wrong? Wright's were everywhere. I mean when he wasn't working some bare handed magic, slamming the ball out of the park, or diving (a bit unnecesarily at times, times like the 8th inning) in front of Jose Reyes to make a play, he was (according to the Dodgers announcing team) making 20 million off his vitamin water percentage. On Ollie's 100 pitch to Ethier, Wright made another bare handed beauty of a putout off a carom no less. Is it the bling David? Cause I don't know if you're dating a mafia princess, but that enormous chain is hard to ignore.

The good old days seem to be back. The good old days when you could count on the Dodgers to roll over for us. Sometimes, it's good to turn up a bad Penny.

And it was a special night, one full of details. Tim McClelland, the guy who caught George Brett cheating with the pine tar, was behind the plate making his patented delayed calls ( I think he ended the game with one). On the mound was the inimitable Ollie By Golly. Everytime he came up to the plate, I wondered why he bats without gloves? On purpose, or did his mom forget to thread his mitten holder through his jersey this morning? The camera caught someone who looked suspiciously like Endy Chavez smiling in the dugout. And we got to see Ollie and diFelice combine on a passed ball that actually went into the stands. Just a bit outside.

Methinks the recent acquisition of David Wells is not going to help Brad Penny with that “fat slob” thing he has going on. Watching him drag his lack of an upper body unless you count the belly to first (and beat out the throw, sigh) was cringeworthy. Hide the batting donuts, cause these two might crack some teeth on them.

On this lovely “Los Mets” night, sure to cause consternation in the blog world, you had to feel sorry for the announcer. She had to resist announcing that here comes “El Swingo” everytime the strikeout buddies, Lastings and Carlos D came up. Actually these two looked a little less clueless tonight working walks and not swinging at every last ball. And Thrilledge's 5th inning swan dive in the outfield and subsequent pose hold was entertaining to one and all. I don’t get exercised about the booing thing, but even I don’t like to hear Delgado get booed. You don’t think he knows he sucks?

I sense a little displaced emotion in Delgado’s fist pumps after put outs at first, don’t you?

Coming into the Dodgers top of the 8th with the Mets bull (shit) pen coming in, you had to know trouble was a brewin.’ Even though it was Sosa coming in. And cause I read the papers sometimes, I knew the Mets only had to get past the top of the 8th to make it into the loving embrace of Scot Proctor, who sucks.

Countrytime came in and got back to what he does best lately, making it interesting and putting the Mets leads in jepardy. Basically, basking in the warm feeling of this victory, we won’t remember how Jeff Kent basically came within about a half inch of his bat of tying this game and sending us into a very sad weekend.

Meanwhile, the Padres were taking their new found confidence (courtesy of our boys) and wiping the field with the Phillies, who may be in their death knell period right now. Ain’t it ironic? Or something.

Mets Padres "Highlights" and Lowlights

Don't run that way on the NL East escalator, you little punk!

I am trying to treat this team as my children, knowing that if they make the playoffs, I'll have to make peace with even the lousiest portion of the roster and cheer for them all as if I didn't hold a grudge. The team the Mets sent to the playoffs was much better than this one, and we lost to the evil St. Louis team. So who knows, maybe we send a lesser entry and win it all?

Anyhow, last night's come-from-behind loss to the anemic Padres offense would have hurt more if the Br*ves hadn't got beaten dramatically as well. And, I have to admit, everyone, at some point in their lives, is shut down by the tremendous power of Heath Bell's blubbering thighs. So with an inner calm, I look at these Mets as my children, one of whom I want to buy a cell phone and give cookies to, and one that I want to start beating and sending to military school. Hey, anything goes in America, as long as you aren't sponsering dogfighting, right?

For space reasons, I will not comment on the Mets defense, which as everyone knows, wins playoff games. As a result, Luis Castillo will not get his due, but David Wright, who apparently thought he was playing the hot corner for the Ringling Bros. traveling team, can breathe a sigh of relief. Sadly Alomar Jr. the washed up catcher and Alomar family member the Mets are forced to depend on while loDuca serves out his banishment to the hot-teen-less Mets minor leagues, made the kind of beautiful plate blocking play that wins Ron Darling Emmys for describing it.)

Goofus: The Mets entire pitching staff

Duck! Its the Mets pitching staff regressing to the mean!

Let's start with Sir Thomas Glavine, Duke of Batting Practice. A typical Metsfan's myopia about this guy is maddening. Glavine is rickety. Period. Perhaps he'll pull an outstanding performance out of his ass, but just as likely, he will get his old doors blown off in a pivitol game one or two of a playoff series. So what you have to give him for his ancient stores of knowledge and guile, you have to take away from him for continuing to play at his age and deteriorated talent level. This is not a number 1 or 2 starter.

Glavine's presense gives credence to what is rapidly becoming a new norm, the 5 or 6 inning starter. I hate this. Sure if you're the kind of fossil that makes up 2/5s of the Mets rotation, its understandable that you just don't have it anymore. But Maine and Ollie also get into the act, as if emulating an older brother that just stole a car. That's not the kind of young pitcher that helps a club out as much as he could. I don't remember an era when young pitchers with low milage had to be hooked so early from their starts. Sucky pitchers, yes, but young "studs" as Mets enthusiasts would have you believe Ollie and Maine are? Where is the conditioning or stamina we expect from highly paid athletes? I might have to accept it, but I damn sure don't have to like it.

I recognize the right of some fans to mindlessly pay tribute to how swell Glavine has been in whatever small sample (e.g. "his last four games,""some games in which he did not get rocked" or "since the allstar game") you choose to try to excuse his suckiness. I also recognize others' rights to hang the toilet paper backwards on the roll (infidels). Well fans, Tommy can make his own excuses. Apparently, Glavine thought he was being squeezed by the umps last night. The ump did seem to have at least two different strikezones, one for left handed hitters and one for righties. And as his fans all know, Glavine is too classy to blame a bad outing on the umpires (or roll his eyes at his teammates plays for that matter). Wait a minute, who said this then?!

“I have no comment on his strike zone tonight, thank you.”

Well from my vantage point, Tom, the umps didn't have much chance to squeeze you, since most everything you threw was launched into the outfield.

Countrytime Lemon!

A pitcher who really was squeezed came on to blow the save. According to Countrytime Lemon, he pitched great!

Wagner said he was pretty surprised he blew the lead.
“I’ll be honest with you. That’s about the best I’ve pitched in two weeks,” he said. “Three hits, two runs - maybe I should pitch worse.”

Well it looked sucky on tv.

It was more than just a save that he blew, it was a heartwarming turn by the clubs gallant offense. An amazing comeback from a 6-1 deficit. The long and the short of it is that Billy Wagner looks eminantly hittable. He is comfortable with putting guys on base and then bearing down. The ump might not have given him the benefit of the doubt, but when you are beaten by .213 hitting T. Sledge, it is time to stop harrassing the rooks and look in the mirror yourself. Know your place, Wagner!

Heilman the Mailman

WHen asked how he would like to have his pitches sent by opposing hitters, Aaron always chooses "airmail." His ground service ain't great either. Heilman fields a bunt! Horton hears a who! I'm supposed to be grateful cause in the 10th inning Aaron keeps his head and makes a routine defensive play? Well I am. And I'm not happy about it. Aaron Heilman is consistently prone to giving up the big team crushing homerun in the big spot. When it absolutely, positively, needs to get launched into the misty night, Heilman is your man, if you are rooting for the opposition. If Aaron isn't focusing on his fielding or pitching, what the f*ck, praytell, is he focusing on? I guess that long trudge from his parking spot must wear him out. I'm kinda tired of him too.

Gallant: Met's Offense

Luis Castillo tried his damn bestest to win this game for the Mets, both with his bat and with his glove. What can you say about a boy like Luis? Damn fine work.

Marlon Anderson, who either hails from a planet of superior beings who do nothing but pinch hit, or was raised from birth to substitute for other hitters or pitchers in highly significant situations.
Marlon is to pinch hitting what Brazilians are to soccer. He's just naturally better at it than most people. I imagine his mom unexpectedly handing him a bat and a helmet while he was still in the cradle, and saying "go to it, son." Keep Marlon out of the outfield, and he can continue to use his wrists to right wrongs and injustices all over the league.

Beltran who has been able to maintain his focus while Gary tries to jinx him from the booth by talking about how Belty is on a tear right now. Buntran is good for a couple bigtime RBIs every game it seems. And that has to be good enough for us.

Wright, who is solid and consistent at the plate. Not spectacular, but he is the offensive bedrock, now and in the future.

Reyes, though looking slightly lost at the plate lately, still found a way to contribute at the plate and on the base paths (and then there's that amazing hose attached to his goofy shoulder).

Shawn "It ain't easy being" Green is taking his licking and keeps on ticking. He may be an adventure in the field, but he is performing as well as can be expected from a near retirement ex-slugger.

I'm not sure what Thrilledge needs to do to learn how to hit or foul off a slider or curve, but he needs to get to it. I saw Jose Reyes learn to do it, so I know its possible. Carlos Delgado, well he was in the lineup too.

It's time for Omar and Willie to bring in a foster child. Someone to liven up family trips to the mall. How bout a Humber?

Luis Castillo where have you been all our lives?

Watching the painful postgame interview with Luis Castillo in which our newly acquired hero gamely struggled to deploy English in the face of an adrenaline rush, I couldn't help but mull the Mets fateful decision to import a certain English as a second language Japanese delicacy those many years ago when they might have tried a bit harder to convince this guy to come play in Flushing. Castillo might have been the answer then, but he certainly is acting like the answer now.

Last night's amazin' win was amazing enough to qualify for dropping the "g" from amazing. Amazin' Offense, and just as Amazin' Bullpen. Except the pen is BAD amazin'. As we remove the paper bags with eye holes from our heads and celebrate this weeks winning streak, we should not let the thrill of victory keep us from identifying the goats: Milledge (forgiven)
Sosa (forgiven), Heilman (unforgiven), Wagner (forgiven). And watching Maine struggle brings back memories of Leiter and Trachell from the past.

At this point, John Maine couldn't finish off an ice cream cone. While I'm sure Prof. Rick is clinking test tubes and boiling potions trying to solve this problem as I type, Maine needs to induce some ground balls and quick, because this formula (50 pitches an inning) does not work in the playoffs.

No relief:
Anyone who tells you the Mets bullpen is not a concern headed down the stretch is a liar or Steve Phillips or both. Actually this relief must make Phillips giggle with seething schadenfreude. Heilman stinks up the joint every night. Mota has been disowned by almost all of the fanbase and probably some in his immediate family. Wagner is in the midst of a stellar season but seems to be getting all the yips out now; it is almost a certainty that he will grace the bases with the "John Franco Two" runners, just to make things interesting. Shoenwiess recent improving performance is hard to evaluate, since he has been down so long it looks like up. Sosa will most likely buckle at some point under the weight of Willie's use. Perhaps the pen can get all their struggling out of the way in August. Maybe the Mets upon expansion of their rosters will happen upon some farmhand wunderkind? Or perhaps the rotational fortifications will make the issue moot in the playoffs. I will wring my hands until then.

Bend ya knees, Rook!
In rap videos, the rappers don't really dance. They just stand there moving and swaying, while the scenery performs around them. That's why they hire dancing girls in bikinis I suppose. Being something of a rapper AND a right fielder, Lastings Milledge often takes roots to fly balls that even MC Hammer would chuckle at. LM demonstrated this clumsyness last night, setting up a Padres rally by butchering a ground ball with his feet. While he atoned for it with his bat in the ninth (a fact down-played with much of the attention going to all the other heroes) "the Rook" needs some work on his footwork.

Tingalingling!
Beltran is a quiet star. His production sneaks up on you. Last night, there was nothing he couldn't do. I think Metsfans would prefer him to be a loud star. To this end, I propose fitting Carlos with a tiny bell much the same as the one I remember Sammy Sosa used to wear in Wrigley field to signal his fellow outfielders.

On the other (pissy) hand, Moises Alou may need one of those "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up" alarms around his neck. You see, Moises likes to dive. This does not necessarily work in harmony with two other of his salient characteristics: he is frequently injured for extended periods of time and getting up is not so easy when you're in your 40s. But he likes to dive just the same.

Omar and the Vets:
Omar's move to reacquire Marlon Anderson has already paid off. Anderson is like an everyman getting it done under stressful conditions; the American Holywood ideal. His swings, launched from the bottom of his shoes, sometimes look ridiculous. But in the clutch, he just always seems to get it done. Having trafficked so frequently in elders, Omar appears to have acquired a taste for them. All of your catchers go down in the span of two days? Don't worry, Mike diFelice and his canon arm are here, straight from the post office wall. Stash can't walk? Don't worry, Damion Easley is here. Damion goes down? No problem, Anderson can pick up the slack. Omar makes finding diamonds in the rough and putting them on the diamond look easy. The rest of us see a Walmart greeter, Omar sees a baseball world-beater.

Mets Hope to Slap a Padre Around

The Padres play in Pet-ophile park. Hmm.

Trial by Fire Begins tonight

Tonight, the Mets send John Maine to the hill to try to keep their winning ways alive. Maine has been struggling in my mind, and it would be nice to see him step up with a great performance to begin this pivitol homestand (and the Dodgers and Br*ves are up next). The Br*ves won last night while the Phils and Mets relaxed, so the pressure of the standings and the knowledge that the Mets are so-so at home adds to the tension. The Pads will be throwing some tough pitchers our way, including a confident Chris Young tonight, and Jake Peavy later in the series. Young is coming off four or so games of scoreless baseball. Sounds to me like he's due to give up a bunch tonight. My dream would be that Carlos Delga'doh comes back tonight, his head cleared by a few days on the bench alone with his notebooks, and reverts to the offensive monster I had grown to admire.

Looking at the standings, I wonder if a sweep of the Padres is technically in the Mets best interests. See, looking at the Wild Card standings, the Pads sit a game or two in front of Phils (who I would love to see in the playoffs), and the Br*ves (who I would love to see miss the playoffs). And then the Dodgers are right behind these guys, and I would love to see them in the playoffs, mostly because I live in Los Angeles, and like watching the Dodgers lay down for the Mets in person.

I have no real comment on the Mets acquisition of 41 years young Jeff Conine. One thing Omar has done with a high rate of success is to find part time role players who perform when called upon, so I expect Conine will be no different, if Willie uses him right.

***
Metsblog is reporting that the Mets fan who caught Barroid Bonds record breaking homer is also trying to cash in by selling the Jose Reyes Mets jersey he wore that night, ketchup stains and all, to the highest bidder on ebay. I'll be monitoring this sale closely to determine the market for my slightly vomit-stained Timo Perez jersey, worn by me during the 2000 Subway Series.

***
MLB.com has a hard-hitting piece on batters bucking the trend by not wearing batting gloves. They each have their reasons. Gloves distract Vlad Guerrero, for instance, from swinging like a mad butcher at pitches no matter where they are. The story wisely stays away from Moises Alou, who is known to urinate on his hands for toughness. Jorge Posada is also said to cover his hands in a bodily fluid nightly, and he explained his preferences in the article:

"I use a lot of dirt, a lot of rosin, a lot of pine tar," Posada said. "It's a feel thing. I don't use a certain amount of anything, though. I like the feel [of bare hands]. I like the stickiness of it and the dirt on the bat. I like to feel the bat in my hands. I don't like having it be too bulky..."
Arod was unavailable for comment.

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Non-future Met pitcher Carlos Zambrano is tired. He is most likely exhausted from being up all night counting all his money.

It's Mets for Me Can't Stand Ya 81 edition

EDITOR'S NOTE: As we celebrate our second anniversary we cast around for special features to add to the site, features that would really enhance your experience as a reader of novelty sports blogs as they brought us, artistically, up to a new level. We didn't come up with anything. Anyhow, here is the first entry into what we hope will be a regular feature in this space. Today we welcome guestblogger Constnza81 to the fold. This is because we are eager to sample the perspective of some of Metsnation's brightest internet stars, NOT because Constnza81 has agreed to release my dog, Snoogums, back into my care if I gave into his demands.

Celebrating Two Year's of Snarky Commentary and Miniscule Readership

I can't remember if it was two years ago where a sarcastic and witty blogger named ItsMetsForMe first caught my attention with his observations about Manny Aybar and Jose Offerman. To say he changed the landscape of Met's-related blogging then is an understatement — or overstatement, I always confuse the two. Either way, IMFM, as he's affectionately referred to by those too lazy to write out his entire name, has used that two year's to build an empire that's read by few and loved by fewer, truly a testament to his genius. As an avid reader, I know I can browse his page, and find a great entry every day — unless he's too busy to post or gets bored or forgetful. I know his polls are frequently updated and fresh and are always accurate since only a handful of visitor's actually participate. IMFM has also been able to create a slew of infrequently updated spin-off pages. I still haven't figured out what “The Deuce” is all about, but I'm sure it was meant to be funny. That's what's really important.

IMFM's influence on the rest of the blogging community is without bounds. We all recognize that the word Br*ves, will never contain an “A” again, unless it's being typed by someone who is ignorant to IMFM's ruminations. His vivid blue font in the HotFoot bleachers on gameday makes this star in the making instantly recognizable.

Join me in saluting IMFM by visiting his page an extra two or three times this week, bringing his overall readership to 12.

Constzy: Guest Blogger or Internet Stalker?

After months of hounding, IMFM has finally relented and allowed me to submit a guest column. I initially promised him my submission before the weekend was finished, but I was so caught up with the Mets epic sweep of the red-hot Nationals (second best NL East record since whenever the Mets started tanking in June), and the penultimate episode of Big Love, I just couldn't be bothered until 24 hours later. That's called getting off on the right foot.

Controversy (Sex) Sells. There's an old saying in the media “if it bleeds in leads.” I don't know what the blog equivalent is. Let's just say, “it there's a flame war, people read more.” Needless to say, a reputation on the Internet is always earned by playing nice. Matt Drudge became a media star when he broke a story about some intern becoming sexually involved with the President of the United States. While I'm yet to break a story of that nature, I do have a knack of following up every rational, intellectual post I make with some psychotic, impulsive ranting. In other words, I'm just what the doctor ordered for IMFM's blog. I am the SoCo to his lime.

More Unabashed Omar Love: Yes, "O" has a penchant for signing lots of really old guys while picking up other players off the trash pile -- I mean, how can I constantly defend someone who's traded away a plethora of talent this season that isn't exactly All-Star caliber, but certainly useful in a pennant race caliber? This year's bullpen is shaky at best, and horrifically awful at worst. But he's Omar, and I love him, you know what I'm saying?

Oh Yeah. The Mets Have a Good Weekend:

Since I'm assuming I'm going to earn my paycheck around here actually blogging about some interesting in game action, let me just say it's always a good weekend when you can beat around a bottom feeder and gain two games on the team's behind you in the process. Apparently, while the Mets were playing souless, malaise-like ball against two below .500 clubs, the spirited, rejuvenated, unbeatable because they got a new cleanup hitter but no starting pitching upgrade Atlanta Br*ves lost 4 of 6, and are now further back in the standings than where they were when they made their dramatic upgrades at the trade deadline. Meanwhile the Phils are still the Phils and I refuse to treat them like a threat until they have a pitching rotation that stretches beyond “King” Cole Hamel's and Jamie “Is this a Goiter?” Moyer. Maybe they can draft some pitcher named “Jimmy Ellington” and then the Phillie faithful can call him Jimmy “Duke” Ellington. Or perhaps an Italian kid name Marco Prima who they can nickname Marco “Louie” Prima.

The Chumpire Strikes Out

On the occasion of another egregious blown call last night, I ask the musical question: when do we start noticing how bad the umpiring has been this season? It's tough to make a blanket statement because they don't (yet) keep statistics on blown calls. But my gut tells me that something sucks and it is wearing blue, and it ain't a smurf hooker.

My pal Jaap has ably chronicled a few other high profile chumpire moments this year, often with the help of advanced photoshopping skills. The long and short of it is, these mistakes are starting to pile up.

During last night's victory over the hapless Gnats, David Wright was basically picked off of first base, and his dash for second occassioned an extremely high throw from the first baseman. The second baseman, having to lunge up in the air to retrieve the ball had no shot at tagging Wright out, and he slid under the tag safe for all to see. The play had three notable characteristics: 1) visible with the naked eye from 3000 miles away on my tv, and 2) really visible on the instant replay and 3) the ump called Wright out. Am I crying over nothing? Sure, you say the second base ump's mistake didn't affect the outcome and these things happen.

But why should we settle? Bruce Weber over at the NY Times has an opinion piece today that basically warns the MLB that they are setting themselves up for a Tim Donaghy-like scandal by skimping on the salary, benefits and training of the minor league umpires. Weber drops this factoid: most MLB umps are pulling down $200,000-400,000 a year. Still feel sorry for them?

Look at it this way. Last night's blown call was egregious. If a shortstop trying to make it at the major league level lets a few slowly hit rollers roll right through their legs, guess where they're going? That's right, back to the minors or worse. You can't blow the easy ones and expect to keep your job. What makes the umps any different?

Is human error a part of the beauty of baseball? Yes, it is. But when umpiring mistakes like last night's, the equivilant of balls right through the wickets, start to become commonplace, it's time for some reform. What kind of reform, I have no idea.

How about a Questec for calls at second base?

****

I have never been a basher of Carlos Buntran. But he is not any easier to love when he continually watches third strikes, fastballs groved right down the middle, right into the catchers mitt, muchless called third strikes on nasty curveballs that have made him infamous. This, you might remember, happened again last night immediately after the David Wright fiasco detailed above. My theory is that he spends too much time in the tennis ball machine practicing reading numbers off the balls as they shoot towards him. Basically, he recognizes the pitches too well, and ends up admiring balls that he could take a lusty swing at. It is arguably unfair to hold Beltran to a higher standard. This is Buntran's relationship with the Metsfans in a nutshell: he's so good, but he could be better. That said, he seems to be breaking out even as I kvetch, and that's always a good thing for the Metsies.

****

Legitimate #1 Carlos Zambrano just resigned with the Cubbies, meaning that there is one less high quality arm in the pool for the Mets to blow $15-20 million a year for 5-10 years on this winter. Con: With pitchers available shrinking, the Mets will have to pay even more for even less; Pro: He's kind of a hot head. Plus, I get the sweats when I see the name Zambrano on the back of a Mets jersey anyhow.

I can't help feeling that his team really needs a bankable ace to turn itself into the dynasty I deserve. But it is soooo risky to pony up the big money in the crazy starter market that it is almost irrationale to get into the bidding, I can't blame Omar for abstaining. The two thoughts battle it out in my tiny head.

Bring out your dead!

A few minutes after the Mets finally sucessfully fielded their opening day roster, players started dropping like flies.

Now, it looks like Carlos Delgado's body is finally joining his mind on that season long vacation. Hopefully, the knee injury suffered in last night's "effort" against the Bucanneers is not serious, but if it is, perhaps Carlos can clear his head and return to his spring training form, which he has hinted at recently. I have no idea who will replace him, other than Mr. Greenjeans supplemented by Thrilledge in right. Maybe Omar will Mike Carp diem, and seize the day, if'n that dude is still on the team.

Let's look at the ALL-INJURED team the Mets would field, each ranked with a totally meaningless 1-10 scale as to the probability of their return.



"but... i'm not dead yet!": Willie dragging Ct. Red Ass to the DL

Catcher: Paul loDuca 9--injured hammy, pride. Impact: the Old Dirty Backstops (accused sex offenders difelice and HEAD castro) can probably hold down the fort, but LoDuca has yet to make his mark on this season. IMPACT: His status as leader is probably still intact, so a playoffs bound team will want this guy around

First base: Carlos Delga-'doh 9?--knee injury, baby fatigue IMPACT: a refreshed and healthy Carlos is key to post season hopes. Last year's playoff Delgado was money!

Second base: Jose Valentin 2--totally fucked up, might currently be wearing a vest, but thats his only option to stay in metsland. IMPACT: Stash sucked the pipe in the playoffs, and Mets have plenty o' secondbaseman available.

Pitching:
Pedro Martinez: 7 Fans are praying for the return of IDEAL-PEDRO, but it says here "don't hold your breath." Don't ask me, I just read this stuff.

Duanar "Dirty" Sanchez: 6 from what I hear, could return this year, but unlikely.

Scott Shoenwiess: 10 remember, this dude is pitching through his injury! Has lowered his era and even earned a bit of Willie's trust lately.

El Duque: 8 not technically injured. I think fans overvalue Orlando, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't be curious to see what he could do in a playoff series or two. Two words for Old Duque for pregame warmups though: Exercise Bike.

Carlos Beltran Injury (special section):
Carlos Beltran 10: again, not technically injured, right now. But since his oblique injury, he seems to be at less than 100%, though he is producing. An Astro-nomical Beltran playoff tear would make all the sad thoughts go away.

Reserve superhero (special section): Endy Chavez 6.5--hammy injury worse than expected. IMPACT: Endy's return would be like a little delicious mint on your pillow before bedtime. Why? Because Endy has a knack for the big play lacked by many of his other teammates. And you can't be mack if you lack that knack.

Whom I forgetting?

With some 40 games to play, and parts of the core taking their licks now, we can still hold out hope for a re-energized injury free team come October.

Mets Put Pirates on their Fannies

No thanks to Jose Reyes, but the Mets pulled one out last night. Just in time too, because the Philmes and Br*ves (thanks to the sinister stylings of Larry "Hooter" Jones and the disgusting Willie Harris) also won their sets. The subjects of worldwide derision, My Two Carloses, made solid contributions, as did back back back up catcher Mike DiFelice, last scene on the post office wall somewhere. El Duque was just plain awful at the start of the game, but he didn't come over on a raft or something like that and play on a team with the insufferable Derek Jeter without a powerful ability to endure, and ended up pitching the 6 innings Mets braintrust expects out of their starters. With two runs in the 8th, the Mets overcame the Snell of defeat and kept pace with their NL East pals.

I swear to Jebus that Orlando Hernandez threw an eephus pitch on a 3-2 count at one point.

The whole damn league is in a playoff race right now, with the Red Stockings holding (but for how long?) the largest lead (4 games) over their competitors. To take advantage of this happy happenstance, I say Bud Selig makes an announcement, that, as penance for the many sins of his administration (ignoring steroids, fucking up the All-Star game, designated hitter, the Cable TV fiasco, fat umpires, bat corking, invasion of Iraq, Rockies Field, etc.), he hereby declares 2007 a "No- Wild Card" Zone. That's right, only division winners go to the show this year, just like when I was growing up. And no DH.

Old Man Moises Alou is like fine silverware that you leave in the drawer and only use for special occasions. He gets tarnished, but its nothing that a little urine can't fix. Willie has to be kidding if he thinks that Alou's presence hasn't butressed his lineup of slap happy sallies. Hell I thought I saw Delgado get a hit the other day. I hate to follow the crowd, but it seems at this point that it is no mere bluster to say that Alou excels when he is healthy. Time to fit him for a Cliff Floyd Bubble. Considering that Omar knew he was rolling the dice with Alou's health when he signed him, the calculated addition of players that will most likely be disabled for a significant portion of their contracts/careers is one of the most interesting aspects of modern baseball. What a phenomenon of modern sports we have here: the major league temp worker. Pedro Martinez and Omar aside, I "credit" the Yankers organization for spearheading this innovation; the Yankmes are an organization which routinely signs injured players in hopes of payoffs years down the road, or signs mercencaries who refuse to play entire seasons so they can get the steroids and hormones out of their systems.

Now Pedro, who's rehabilitation starts are getting almost as much ink as the parent club's games lately, is like your favorite uncle who usually brings you a present when he visits. But since he lives in his car in the Bay Area, you're never sure if he's gonna come for Thanksgiving. Is Uncle Petey coming soon, Ma? Mets fans can't help but dream of the senario if an effective Pedro is added to their playoff roster. If IDEAL-PEDRO returns, throwing in the mid 80s, that will give the Mets three veteran pitchers tossing softies; imagine how a fireballer 7th inning guy would look after those guilesome guys?


******

I'm a Lastings lover, but man, he plays the corner outfield spots like he's on a unicycle and a bear is chasing him. He's on the unicycle, not the bear. Nevermind.

In all the coverage of Phil Rizzuto's passing, not one mention has been made of how this affects the "Money Store." Will they be having a sale in his honor? If so, I will be there.

That's just awful, man. Former Met Jose Offerman is using a bat far more effectively than he did during his stay with our Orange and Blue.

*****
Celebrating a Dubious Anniversary

Well I just noticed that my blog is passing its two year mark. And I had big plans to celebrate this occasion at one point, but ahh we'll have to see what happens. Looking back at my first month of posting, you can see a cornucopia of lameness, along with some hints of the bold agenda setting I am known for, with my attention to enduring issues of Mets nation:

A celebrity advice column covering everything from poker to physics, the sex crimes of Mike DiFelice, famous Metsfans, featuring a pic of Julia Stiles after she finished serial killing a family of four, a penetrating look at the private life of Kaz Matsui, and an ode to Rickey, before he was cool (again).

Two cheers for me.

****
Awfulman Award for Citizenship

In case you're too lazy to click the links above, here's a taste of the current Mets catcher's rap sheet:

DiFelice was arrested about 1:25 a.m. when he punched a 24-year-old male valet parking attendant after he had been thrown out of the Area 51 nightclub, police said.During the arrest, police said they learned that DiFelice had been thrown out of the club for allegedly assaulting two female patrons. Police refused to identify any of the victims.A 28-year-old woman told police that DiFelice grabbed her buttocks after he began rubbing her arm and she told him to stop. A 35-year-old woman who had intervened told police DiFelice burned her buttocks with a cigarette lighter. DiFelice then punched the younger woman in the face when she tried to help the other woman, police said.DiFelice broke away from club security personnel and again attacked the younger woman before he was removed from the club, police said.

Wow, just wow.

*****

SNY comes in for criticism for staging viewing party at a glorified Hooters

I love the SNY broadcast team. Of all the decisons made by the Mets powers that be in recent years, I have to say putting together Keith, Ron, and Gary with occasional Ralph-ian interlude ranks among the best choices of all. But by thoughtlessly celebrating a Hooters mentality, SNY is falling short of even the best we can often hope for in this corporate sanitized world, which is corporations keeping their noses clean by trying not to offend their customers. Without making too much of it, I think SNY dropped the ball here a bit. I confess I would have gone to this party if I lived nearby, mainly because of the increasing man-crush I have on Ron Darling, and in all honesty, as a guy, I just don't have to worry about this kind of thing in my day to day life if I don't want to. If the juxtaposition of the respectful, cerebral Hawaiian Ron Darling and the expoitative slightly tasteless Hawaiian Tropic Zone bikini beach party sticks out to you, you're not alone.

There are a lot of women fans and an increasing number of female authored blogs about the Mets, some of which seem to attract viewers with pictures of themselves, some which attract attention with the acuity of their insights into the experience of being a baseball fan, female or otherwise. I personally am more interested if David Wright's ass cheeks are not the main touchstone of the blog's contribution, but no one appointed me tastemaker. As an industry, baseball often celebrates social progress in their own rather hollow manner, in other realms such as the breaking of the color barrior. But when it comes to gender and sexuality, baseball has a long way to go in terms of having its culture come to terms with progressive thought or social justice, as Keith Hernandez' mouth will prove given the chance.

Sexism, like racism and other social problems, is tough to bring up in a sports context. But it's always there, just below the surface. Just look at the "Los Mets" controversy. Behavior construed as racist often takes over blogs for days on end. But sexism? Not so much. Why not?To simplify greatly, it's a male dominated culture, one that many of us go to escape the problems of the real world, so anyone raising issues has to be prepared to come in conflict with an outpooring of heated opinions, retrograde positions, raw emotions, and simple "controversy fatigue." On the issue of the Hawaiian Tropic Zone SNY viewing party, Metsgrrl fights the good fight over on her blog, and the commentaries are worth stopping over and checking out. Here's a taste, from a commenter named Ray:

Would SNY risk offending its Latino following by having Mr. Met have an afternoon siesta with the Frito Bandito? Bring back Piazza for a Manly-Met-Man I’m Not Gay Night at some demonstrably straight bar?

I would personally love to see a "Mike Piazza I'm not Gay" night. But I'm an irony whore hooked on nostalgia.

I'm trying to avoid a holier than thou stance here, and it isn't easy when I'm just sooo great. But I ain't saying I'm above the fray here. If there is a culture of heterosexual male privilage, I certainly benefit from it. Do I lazily make what could be construed as veiled gay jokes in my post titles occassionally hoping for a cheap laugh? Um, yep. Have I published pictures of Julia Stiles in a tank top? Yes, but I was young then. But my point is to give these complaints a hearing, and consider if we honor the sport of baseball when we demean a section of audience, those who love it with the same passion as anyone else and deserve respect. If you're not moved to at least think it over after visiting Metsgrrl, well just remember, Larry Jones patronizes Hooters.

Let's leave the Mets association with Hawaii to the discussion of our favorite Hawaiian sons, Darling, El Sid, and Benny Agbayani...

"The good news, if there is any..."

On a day featuring a fatuous and painful tribute to the ex-Br*ve Tom Glavine, the Mets finally grabbed a "W" in Florida to end a lousy week. The Ralph Kiner quote from the telecast the other day that I used as a title sums the Mets situation up nicely. What is the good news right now?

Well there is good news for us fans. At least we aren't Glavine, who has to figure out where the hell in his garage he's gonna put all that shit. I mean who needs a "car" and jetskis with their name on it? Or 300 golfballs?


Seaver and Kiner in the booth both seemed to accept the premise that this year's team is something of a first place disappointment, although the extent to which Tom Seaver is paying attention to things not within the purview of the category, "Tom Seaver" is debatable.


The three NL East competitors begin play again today after a long Monday break. This week may go a long way to explaining the Mets ultimate fortunes, for the sad sack Pirates and Nationals are on the ticket. If the Mets can beat up on these 4th division teams, and that is by no means certain, than perhaps they can catch a break with a few Br*ves and Phils losses.


If things don't go well starting tonight, it may be that, to paraphrase FDR, the only team we have to fear, is ...the Mets themselves!

There Goes the Sheaberhood: BillyGoat, Black and Blue Beltran Blow Ballgame

Coming off the emotional atrocity that a typical Mets-Br*ves series represents, the plan had to be this: Sweep the cellar dwelling Fish while the Phillies and Atlanta destroy each other, thereby restoring peace to the Shea-berhood and padding the Mets lead on at least one of their two rivals. Either way, Mets win, right? There was only one problem with the plan: the Mets can't even beat the Marlins. It's just one damn thing after another with this team. While the boys from Flushing have sleepwalked through the season, comfortably nestled in first place, the team chasing them, the one wearing hoods and burning crosses, means business (even if they can't seem to put it all together against any team not wearing orange and blue).

Yet the Mets continue to smile and dugout dance, and talk about retiring with world series rings. While this passivity keeps the team budget for Gatorade coolers and batting helmets in line, it is cold comfort for passionate fans. Meanwhile, Larry Jones digs in to the batters box to deliver another key hit for the Br*ves as comfortably as I sit on my couch complaining about it. These days, snakebit Paul lo Duca can barely get playing time or hits, much less throw a temper tantrum. It's enough to make Mr Met throw his head on the field in disgust.

The team complacency is matched only by lack of gelling-ness, which, although it isn't a word, seems to describe this team. Willie the conductor can't seem to get the orchestra to play the same song. When one part of the team starts to come around, the previously reliable parts, like Countrytime's 9th inning Houdini act or Buntran's smooth Centerfielding, start to hit awful screeching notes. Continually confounded by one minor league hurling master or another, the Mets are now 1-3 against scrubs from the farm. But that record of futility is just this season; flailing away against unknown pitchers seems to be a dubious calling card of 21st century Mets clubs. Do they have anyone preparing them for pitchers? one often wonders. The mixed metaphors of this paragraph are meant to reflect the nauseating experience of watching the Mets this year. Have you thrown up in your mouth just a little? Or maybe a lot?

A week or so ago, it looked like HoJo's mojo was injecting new life into the awful offense, and the deadline addition by addition of Castillo looked like the most Omar could have pulled off, short of letting Rickey (who is shown on television stretching his legs in the dugout...juuuust in case) take the field between the white lines.

Encouraging signs. Hmmm. Well, the Mets offenCe has started to stage late inning comebacks, which is good. I still like the Castillo acquisition, though it messes with LoDuca and Lastings Milledge's posible roles at the top of the order, when it works, it really works. I'm not so impressed with his range or throws to home plate though. And the pen seems fortified by Jorge Sosa's performances. But the rotation has compensated and started springing leaks, the kind of holes that 5-6 runs drip through.

The hope is that the Br*ve's can continue to not be able to get out of their own way, and the Mets can get hot in September and October. The only thing slumbering in the Delgado household is Carlos' bat. Only the most ardent Pedrophile thinks a Martinez contribution is in the (citi) bank. Hoping to back into the World Series is not as fulfilling a senario as 2006 led us to expect. It is hard to be an optimist at this point, that's for sure.

Now, as if my bloodpressure needed it, Toothless Tommy is using the 300 win spotlight to talk retirement while also threatening to take up rotation real estate again in 2008. According to the Post, Glavine would only think about continuing to pitch if the Mets do not bring home the World Series title this year. If I could want a Championship more than I already did, I do now! Since things don't always go as I want in Flushing, I can see Tomahawk being retained next year, even though his pressence at the "top" of the Mets rotation is clogging up the rotation as far as I'm concerned. Relying on his inconsistency, smoke and mirrors performances, and the umpires mood to score wins for the Mets is something I wish the Mets would avoid. Adding to the madness would be if Omar pays this meatballer more than union rate, seeing as there will most likely be NO COMPETITION FOR GLAVINE'S SERVICES, as there was last time around; the Br*ves won't want him, and Glavine limits his options at the outset to the Mets and their most hated adversaries. My teeth are getting ready to gnash.

Willie's Crying Game...play at your own risk

Top 10 Things that piss me off more than losing to the Br*ves:

#10. nothing



Many Mets fans will blame Willie Harris' spectacular catch of Delgado's blast for the loss. First, I am in the minority, but by the looks of where Harris jumped from, that ball might have been off the top of the wall. It certainly wasn't Endyrific in any event. Second, I found a different culprit that begins with "W" and ends with "illie."

Willie, or more precisely, Willie's Strategery

Viewing this emotional loss as soberly as I possibly can, I say Willie can take some blame for this one.

Conceding a run against the hated Klan in the seventh was, as one of my favorite bloggers says, fucking ponderous.

And Marlon Anderson wasnt exactly "the answer" in CF today, not with Thrilledge playing so well. Willie hates rooks, and under this regime, they know their place; on the bench, planning their rap careers, not helping the team win. Omar talks up defense, and Willie stubbornly sticks to his guys.

And, to nitpick, Willie was "Crying Gamed" today too-- being surprised by Cox on a suicide squeeze RIGHT after pitching out is braindead managing. Had Willie guessed right on any of these decisions, the Mets might have pulled this one out. THis team goes braindead entirely too much for my tastes. The little things matter, especially in the playoffs, should the Mets be so lucky. And little things include managing.

Sorry, them's the facts.

Here are some more.

Shawn Green, normally so adept at protecting himself from boo boos, today dives face first into the warning track on a foul ball, then pivitolly can't get out of the way of a wild pitch.

John Maine morphing from nice surprise to typical young pitcher undone by his own inability to concentrate. Still better than Mr. Benson.

David Wright finally gets it going against the Br*ves, unfortunately Castillo isn't a step faster and on base for him.

The glory seemingly promised by last year's Mets squad is all but squandered at this point. Time to start hoping the Mets can pull the East out, and to start rooting for the Br*ves wildcard foes.

To sum up, us Mets fans thought we had us a team with guts, a team that could go toe to toe with the Br*ves and come out on top...
Then... we lifted up that skirt and...NO BALLS!!

Nothing is what it seems to be.












is that paulie shore?

Mets Lose to Atlanta 7-3

Ramirez tosses Braves' first complete game of year

NEW YORK (AP) -- For Chipper Jones, it's all so simple.

"I'm seeing the ball really good right now. I'm just making contact," Jones said after homering twice for the second straight day to help the Atlanta Braves beat the New York Mets 7-3 Monday night.

Jones hit a three-run homer in the first inning and added a solo shot in the eighth for his 28th multihomer game.

He hit two home runs in the Braves' 7-5 win over the Montreal Expos on Sunday for his first multihomer game this season. It is the first time in his career that he's hit two or more in consecutive games.

While Jones provided the offensive spark, rookie Horacio Ramirez shut down the Mets by throwing his first complete game as a major leaguer. The left-hander, making his 15th career start, gave up one earned run and four hits in winning his seventh consecutive decision since losing to Florida on April 11.

"It was all Ramirez and Chipper Jones tonight," Atlanta manager Bobby Cox said. "For Ramirez, that was his best game by far."

Ramirez (8-2) struck out seven and walked two in throwing Atlanta's first complete game since Kevin Millwood last Sept. 6 against Montreal. The Braves were last team in the major leagues to throw a complete game.

"It was probably the best game I've thrown this year," said Ramirez, who said he'd never thrown as complete game at any professional level.

The game was interrupted momentarily in the ninth inning when a boy came out of the stands and ran toward center field. He didn't go near any players and was quickly surrounded by security and led off the field through the visitors' bullpen. The Mets have not decided whether charges will be filed.

The only trouble Ramirez ran into came thanks to some shoddy defense in the sixth. With runners on first and third with one out, Jeromy Burnitz hit a potential double-play grounder to Marcus Giles. The ball got past the second baseman for an error and went into right field, allowing Roger Cedeno to score and putting runners at first and third.

Ty Wigginton then hit a popup that first baseman Robert Fick dropped for another error. Giles picked up the ball and, in an attempt to get a force at second, threw the ball into left for his second error of the inning, allowing Raul Gonzalez to score.

Jason Phillips hit a sacrifice fly to make it 6-3.

"Offensively we didn't mount much," Mets manager Art Howe said. "They gave us the runs we did get. You won't see the Braves have an inning like that very often."

Atlanta was in control from the start, getting three runs in the first off Jae Seo (5-5). Giles and Gary Sheffield both had one-out singles before Jones drove a 1-0 pitch over the right-field wall for his 16th homer, giving Atlanta a 3-0 lead.

Ramirez took over from there. He pitched out of a jam in the fourth, when the Mets put runners at second and third with one out. Ramirez got Phillips to pop out to second and Vance Wilson to ground out.

"That kid pitched good," Wilson said. "I'd imagine we're going to see him again."

Fick padded the Braves' lead when he hit a three-run homer in the sixth for a 6-0 lead.

Seo allowed six runs and eight hits in six innings, struck out six and walked none.

Sheffield finished 3-for-4 with a double and two runs scored.

Straight outta Billerica!

The pressure was on the Mets tonight, both because the Br*ves and Phils both won earlier in the day, and because who could take another night of Glavine family eye-rolling. If he lost his second attempt at the 300th victory, the guys in the dugout would know he was pissed. But Toothless mostly got his batting practice stuff over the plate and over the home plate umpire’s generous strike zone. 6 hits and a handful of runs over 6 and 1/3 innings. I was ecstatic to see Tomahawk pitch tonight, not so much to watch him and his wife reach his personal, non-team goals, but because this means he won’t be facing the Br*ves this week in what may be the most important series of the season. Since he left Atlanta, Glavine has lost 300 times to the Br*ves.

The game was called, more or less accurately, by the affable nitwits on ESPN Sunday baseball. They were unimpressed by Castillo tagging up and taking second on the center fielder, a play I can't remember seeing before. The highlight had to be known bigot John Smoltz’s semi-congratulatory call into the booth. And the boys managed not to say “Derek Jeter” all night. But put it this way, it ain’t Joe Morgan’s brain that is enshrined in the Hall of Fame.

Offensively, the Mets were paced by the majesty and occasionally ill-advised daring that is Lastings Milledge, and Carlos Delgado’s 4 RBI’s. Moises Alou was uninjured. An early turning point was when Sorriano got thrown out at third coming up lame as he turned second. This killed the Cubs rally. Mota and the Mets bullpen would try earnestly to give those runs back, but the Cubs just couldn’t get it done.

Late in the game, they were dropping like flies. The home plate ump shook off a concussion. Castillo after a nice game was pulled in the 9th on account of heat exhaustion, so Ruben Gotay faced Ryan “Run” Dempster for him and grounded out. Also suffering from heat exhaustion was Glavine’s mom, who I swear did not move a single facial muscle the entire game. She made Bud Selig at Bond's games look like Krusty the Clown. In the Cubs 9th, Shawn Green did his best Mark Delerosa and let a catchable ball sail over his head. But Countrytime was able to bury the baserunner like he has burried male pattern baldness and wrap up the game.

So the MLB’s week of selfish stars was brought to an end by Glavine, the least selfish and most admirable star of the three Barroid Bonds, pAy-Rod, meeting his personal milestone. Br*vo, Mr. Glavine, Br*vo!

Bring on the tough talkin Br*ves!