It's Mets For Me: Off-Beat, Tangentially Relevant Mets Ruminations

Off Base Since 2005! Mets commentary from the counter-intuitive to the unintuitive and all the intuitives in between. ** "Through the use of humor and gross inaccuracy...a certain truth can be gained." Rob Perri ** (pester me or follow me @itsmetsforme on twitter)

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Mets Kicked in the Nats

The 2007 Mets are straining our abilities to believe. Keith Hernandez is pissed. Though there is little agreement over who to blame, everyone knows how badly the Mets bullpen has been stretched. But who is worrying over the health and sanity of the Metsblogging community? Willie Randolph and Co. are asking us to describe and re-describe the hot and cold, often bumbling and spiritless brand of baseball offered by Sterling enterprises, and the community is showing the strain. You just can't go to the well that many times before you find yourself writing posts with the words "sucks" and "donkey balls"! So far, all we have to thank the 2007 team for is making us root for the Br*ves. Thanks a lot.

'80s alum Howard Johnson was able to teach Jose Reyes how to hit again before the game, do we need to bring in Raphael Santana to remind him of how to play shortstop? For such a fast guy, Jose sure does tend to make his mental errors standing absolutely still. And as Carlos Delgado managed to coral a grounder Jose just stood there watching the pretty pretty baseball game. Covering second base never occured to him. Or he was ready to cover the pitching rubber, should it be attacked. I dunno. I don't care. I hates brainless baseball. Hates it.

Which brings me to bozo play number two. Paul LoDuca should be red faced in addition to Red Assed over swinging at the f*&$! first pitch in the ninth. This with a speedster who had risked it all to steal third, jockeying down the line. This with the Gnats thoroughly rattled; they gave up a lot of damn runs. The Gnats were Gnats. The Gnats were on the ropes. Don't ya just want to see if a wild pitch or some other event might happen? Aren't ya juuuust a little curious, Paul?

Ah and down the list we come to the starting pitching performance. Well, what hasn't already been said about the Tom-ahawk Glavine show? In fact I may have said it myself. The smoke is as gone as it is after a Great White concert in Rhode Island. The mirrors are cracked like after an angry Milton Bradley coke binge. I think anyone advocating re-signing Glavine for anything other than batting practice pitcher has to have their head examined. The amount of luck necessary for Glavine to have a decent start would not fit in Ramon Castro's cap, put it like that.

While the Mets still may be drinking Cham-pipple or perhaps some other boxed intoxicant come October, rather than the sweet sweet champagne Field General William Randolph waxed poetic about a few weeks ago, nothing hurts so much when combined with a Philmes loss. That that Philmes loss was provided by the resurgent and looming Tomahawk Choppers would be disconcerting if only the Mets weren't clawing (or at least pawing) for their lives. When the roof is on fire, no one worries much if the couch starts smoking.

Still, waiting for the Phillies to choke the Mets into a playoff berth is exhausting. Although Phillies fans are expecting their team to come up small, going into history as the "team that got beat," we Mets fans draw no comfort from this. There is no comfort anywhere. Old Duque is saying "I threw very well today." Yeah that's nice grandpa, quiet down and finish your soup; JAG is coming on soon. If you behave, we'll let you jog in the outfield soon.

Maybe you'd prefer to focus on the squad's remarkable comeback against the cellar adjacent Washington team, but isn't a comeback like that like almost winning the Special Olympics when you are not otherly-abled (i see a movie idea in there somewhere, perhaps staring Johnny Knoxville)? No, a bit of gallows humor is appropriate for this occasion. If the Mets were swinging from a tire swing or say, a rainbow, well then we'd have a different kind of laugh, wouldn't we?


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This blog is meant completely and entirely in jest, unless you count the angst, and is not meant to offend anyone, unless you are a Br*ves fan. It's not affiliated with Sterling, the Mets, common sense, good taste, or anything really.