Pedro-fied!!
Let the "Pedro stage" of the 2007 Mets season begin!!
If there is a regular season situation more exciting than Monday's, I have no idea what it would look like. The Mets, having practically written themselves out of any heroic admirable tale with listless and unlucky losses to the Dodgers and (gasp) Phillies, promptly wrote themselves right back into my heart by doing the improbable, and doing it with style. After the four game pasting, even I was starting to doubt my John Lennon-inspired mantra, "I don't believe in Phillies."
It's old news now, but it is worth savoring. They did the only thing that could fully redeem them in my eyes, they swept the Atlanta Br*ves in Atlanta and drove a stake through the heart of their eternal main competition. Read that sentence again, the Mets demoralized the Br*ves and sent them to the golf courses, or to cheat on their wives, or whatever Br*ves do in the off-season. Not the other way around. That's big.
Then, against the backdrop of the Br*ves and Phillies beating on each other in a win-win situation for the Mets, here comes Pedro, he of the surgically repaired arm, well-rested toe and magical powers of persuasion, to deliver what might be some saving grace. During the late stages of his rehab, Pedro had alternatively talked a big game and kept expectations low. No one with any sense pinned the Mets playoff hopes on Pedro, but when no one is looking, we all maneuvered our Pedro action figures on our desks and imagined the potential paradise of Pedro (ok maybe not all of us). What would we get?
We got it all. A decent start, a "W" next to Martinez' name, another game gained on the poor Phillies, and Pedro wakes up feeling great the next day.
Now we just sit back and enjoy the ride; the starting pitching catching its breath, Wagner is getting power from his legs, the hitters starting to rake, Endy is in the house (imagine Endy and Marlon on the same bench!), loDuca is regaining his pride through the magic of RBIs and post-game comments, and the brooms are starting to sweep in the Mets' favor. The only cause for concern seems to be the hip of Carlos Delgado. Delgado had finally found the path after a season of wandering in the forest. I'm fixated on news about Carlos Delgado's tweaked hip because his rebirth (looking less like Mo Vaughn and more like, well, Carlos Delgado) is what is making watching the Mets winning streak really really fun! Even if the MRI shows only a strain, it might be enough to knock Carlos out of his nice little groove, and that would be a tragedy.
If there is a regular season situation more exciting than Monday's, I have no idea what it would look like. The Mets, having practically written themselves out of any heroic admirable tale with listless and unlucky losses to the Dodgers and (gasp) Phillies, promptly wrote themselves right back into my heart by doing the improbable, and doing it with style. After the four game pasting, even I was starting to doubt my John Lennon-inspired mantra, "I don't believe in Phillies."
It's old news now, but it is worth savoring. They did the only thing that could fully redeem them in my eyes, they swept the Atlanta Br*ves in Atlanta and drove a stake through the heart of their eternal main competition. Read that sentence again, the Mets demoralized the Br*ves and sent them to the golf courses, or to cheat on their wives, or whatever Br*ves do in the off-season. Not the other way around. That's big.
Then, against the backdrop of the Br*ves and Phillies beating on each other in a win-win situation for the Mets, here comes Pedro, he of the surgically repaired arm, well-rested toe and magical powers of persuasion, to deliver what might be some saving grace. During the late stages of his rehab, Pedro had alternatively talked a big game and kept expectations low. No one with any sense pinned the Mets playoff hopes on Pedro, but when no one is looking, we all maneuvered our Pedro action figures on our desks and imagined the potential paradise of Pedro (ok maybe not all of us). What would we get?
We got it all. A decent start, a "W" next to Martinez' name, another game gained on the poor Phillies, and Pedro wakes up feeling great the next day.
Now we just sit back and enjoy the ride; the starting pitching catching its breath, Wagner is getting power from his legs, the hitters starting to rake, Endy is in the house (imagine Endy and Marlon on the same bench!), loDuca is regaining his pride through the magic of RBIs and post-game comments, and the brooms are starting to sweep in the Mets' favor. The only cause for concern seems to be the hip of Carlos Delgado. Delgado had finally found the path after a season of wandering in the forest. I'm fixated on news about Carlos Delgado's tweaked hip because his rebirth (looking less like Mo Vaughn and more like, well, Carlos Delgado) is what is making watching the Mets winning streak really really fun! Even if the MRI shows only a strain, it might be enough to knock Carlos out of his nice little groove, and that would be a tragedy.
posted by I.M. Forme @ 9:01 AM
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