Welcome to 2004

Picture, if you will, a time not too long ago.

"Lord of the Rings" was honored by the Academy. John Kerry-mania was sweeping the nation (kinda). Jerry Orbach and Ronald Reagan shuffled off this mortal coil. The pilot episode of "Lost" (a show I've still never seen a single goddamned episode of) premiered on ABC. George W. Bush muttered the immortal words "I hear there's rumors on the, ah, 'internets'" and lamented the apparent inability of certain American gynecologists to "practice their, uh, their love with women all across this country."

In other words, not too much was happening (um, except for that whole tsunami thing. That wasn't good).

Of course you know I'm speaking of 2004.

But let's flash back more specifically to July 1, 2004 - exactly five years ago to this day.

A certain unnamed baseball team (let's call them the "New York M's".... no, that's too obvious. The "N.Y. Mets") was:

(i) 38-39;
(ii) 3 games out of first place; and
(iii) stuck behind the Phillies and the Marlins, and hovering above the Braves and the Expos in the standings.

(I shit you not. Don't believe me? Take a look).

Sure, they were reasonably close to first place, but they were irrelevant. They knew it. We knew it. The rest of the NL East knew it. (In fact, the only ones who didn't know it were the front office nitwits who, thirty days later, thought it would be a swell idea to trade one of the best starting pitching prospects the team ever developed for a sack of horse manure because he enjoyed hip-hop music. But that's a story for another time). It was a thoroughly depressing time, to be sure, but also a fairly stress-free one. No pennant races, no nail-biters, no "meaningful games in September." You'd head out to Shea, down a few beers, watch Kaz Matsui wave lamely at a few pitches, see Jason Phillips run the bases about as fast as Nell Carter on quaaludes, go home, and count down the days until the Giants opened training camp. No fuss, no muss.

It is now July 1, 2009. These same "N.Y. Mets" are:

(i) 37-39;
(ii) 3 games out of first place; and
(iii) stuck behind the Phillies and the Marlins, and hovering above the Braves and the Expos Nationals.

Sure, they are reasonably close to first place, but they are irrelevant. They know it. We know it. The rest of the NL East knows it.

And you know what? I'm starting to get comfortable with this. No stress. No looming collapse. Just bad baseball with a pre-determined outcome day in and day out, as I count down the days until the Giants open training camp.

Oh yeah, it's 2004 all over again. And I'm ok with it.

Until I realize that this means we're going to hire Willie Randolph next year.

Your Weekend Recap: Toasty Joe & Wife Appear On TV. Little Else Goes Right.

Yes, you read that correctly. The picture you see to the left (click to enlarge) was captured upon my review of Saturday morning's encore presentation of Friday night's Rays/Mets tilt. And yes, that circled couple in the CF stands (also indicated by the oh-so-subtle arrows) is none other than Toasty & Flitgirl. Interestingly, when we scored these seats, which are among the more remote reaches of Citi Field's expanse (just to the left of the home run apple), I had no inkling that we might appear on television. Hell, I had a hard enough time seeing home plate. But, there you have it.

Now, if you look hard enough at the picture, you might see that Flitgirl is doing something I'd wager none of the other 38,492 spectators is doing. You guessed right: knitting. In fact, I'll wager she polished off about 1/8 of a sweater between the 3rd and 8th innings. Which I guess is...what....good? By the way, this is the same Flitgirl who, upon attending a Brooklyn Cyclones game with me several years ago, openly wondered whether a batter is out if an opposing team's FAN catches his foul ball. She has improved since then, although:

1. She still thinks Tsuyoshi Shinjo and Armando Benitez are on the Mets.

2. She thinks the Mets acquired Ryan Church and Brian Schneider for someone named either "Miller Lastings" or "Lester Millings."

3. Her entire opinion of David Wright's 2009 season is that he does too much "man-scaping" on his eyebrows.

Well, lest this turn into a "tease the Flitgirl" segment, let me turn my attention to the actual games that were played this weekend. You know, as I posted last week, it's incredible how relaxed and numb I've become to these losses. It's really proving to be true - June 12, 2009 was a watershed moment. Everything else is like cream cheese now. But consider: the Mets are missing their lead-off hitter, their clean-up hitter, their #2 starter, their #3 starter, and their set-up man. How in god's name can any of you expect this team to be slightly better than .500? (Which, conveniently, is what they are). Call me nuts, but I think in a few months' time, the Phillies are going to sorely regret the fact that the Mets are somehow, some way, only 2 measly stinking games out of first right now, when by all rights they should be at least 10 games back. (Hmmmm, I'm not sure what this sensation I am having is - "optimism"? So that's what it feels like).

Incidentally, I was reading the Daily News Yankee blog this morning (call it schaddenfreude), and I discovered that there were apparently a few epic brawls in the stands at last night's Yanks-Marlins suckfest. Diligent reporter that I am, I immediately ran a search on YouTube for "yankees marlins fight." Oh, my. This is like the Citizen Kane of fan brawl videos. Seriously, you've got it all: Alcohol. Female involvement. Miami's finest arriving a few minutes too late. And, last but not least, a solitary, crying child, imploring daddy to explain why he's fighting. Scorcese couldn't have directed this any better.

OK, Enough of This Crap - I'm Posting

Man, I don't know what the heck's going on with my blogger jones this season. Either the Mets finally killed it, or it died of natural causes. I think it's a little of both.

For those not in the know, I previously spent three full seasons offering insight, perspective, humor, and non-Sabermetric-related analysis of this here baseball team. So why have I chosen this season - in which so much has happened - to stand largely mute? Could it be the back-to-back horrific finishes the past two years? The crippling injuries this season? The shoddy defense or untimely hitting? The fact that our lineup is now packed with more scrubs than a Clorox convention? Oliver Perez?

Once again, I'm going with all of the above.

But fear not: I'm here to tell you that Toasty Joe is going to fight his demons. After all, what would a third consecutive year of bad baseball be if we didn't have gallows humor? And that's what I aim to provide.

Now, having said all of that, I must tell you - from about 11:00 p.m. last Friday night to maybe 4:00 p.m. the next day, I was thoroughly and utterly convinced of something: The Mets, with help from Luis Castillo, had done something that I didn't think it was possible to do:

They broke baseball.

I don't mean they blew a game, broke their fans' hearts, and so forth. I mean they broke baseball. Permanently. As in, there is no longer any need or any point to me watching any baseball games. Not just this season, but ever. That's how soul-crushing, stomach-destroying, and mind-annihilating Friday night's turn of events was. Had I been updating this blog regularly, that would've been my headline on Saturday morning: "The Mets broke baseball."

But of course, they didn't really break baseball. (Although yours truly nearly broke his head slamming it against a wall). In fact, they somehow made it MORE tolerable. For example, after a splendid victory on Saturday, they went out and took a complete dump on the field in a 15-0 drubbing on Sunday. Did I give a shit? Not really. And then last night - they blow a 1-run lead in the 9th and lose the game. Did I gnash my teeth and stomp and curse? No chance.

For you see, I learned something last week: No matter how bad a loss is, it's not June 12, 2009.

In fact, how's that for next season's slogan?

"The 2010 New York Mets: No Matter How Bad A Loss Is, It's Not June 12, 2009. Get your season tickets today!"

Five Dollar Footlong

Well, those privileged enough to be at the cozy friendly quirky confines of Citi Field last night (which does not include me) were blessed with one of the weirdest games this commentator has ever seen. Consider:

Johan Santana's pitching line. 6 innings, 120 pitches, 11 Ks, 6 walks. Say what?

Adam Dunn's 678-foot home run. Yikes pipes. I actually went and checked the roof deck of my apartment in Brooklyn to make sure it didn't knock over our new CB2 main-sail umbrella. (By the way, that's the same umbrella that threatens to do a Mary Poppins off the roof every time there's stiff wind. Perhaps we should've thought that purchase through a bit more).

Fernando Martinez petulantly rolling his eyes instead of heading towards first base on a pop-up that, of course, fell in. C'mon 'Nando. At least made a move towards first. At least start walking there. Give me something to work with here. That was HORRIFIC. If he's in the starting lineup tonight, it will be a disgrace of Willie-sized proportions.

Dan Murphy, a canary-colored Subway billboard, a clueless right-fielder, and Sheff being Sheff. I have now seen this replay about 25 times, and honest to God, I still have no idea what happened -- which means, in my opinion, the umps probably should've let the call on the field stand. But hey - we've still got a long way to go to make up for all the shit Angel Hernandez has pulled over the years, so I'm taking all the breaks I can get.

Now, speaking of video review, I have to weigh in on Saturday night's game up in Boston (which I haven't done yet because I've been a slacker of the highest magnitude). I said it at the time - I can't recall a more unbelievable regular-season win for this team since - well, maybe ever. Maybe. At a bare minimum, we surely learned at least two things:

(a) Omir Santos needs to catch every day. Every. Single. Day. I love everything about his game, from the clutch hits, gritty at-bats, game-calling, defense - everything. I'm so over Ramon and his flabby, enormous head, his strikeouts, and clueless catching abilities. Let Schneider come back and handle day games after night games, but it's Omir all the way.

(b) J.J. Putz stinks. He was lucky to survive Saturday night with his life. Plus, he's issued 16 walks to 18 Ks. That's good. You always want a multitude of guys on base when you're an 8th inning specialist. Is there anything we can get for this guy on the open market? Thoughts??

(Maybe I'm being harsh, but I am developing a serious Bobby Parnell man-crush. There's our 8th inning solution right there. Love that man).

Follow the Leaders!

First up... you know him as the roly-poly maestro of over-pronunciation... a man who incapable of adding anything of value to any broadcast beyond pronouncing names like "Ramirez" and "Gonzalez" like some third-rate seventh-grade Spanish teacher... a man who voluntarily shows up on national television dressed like a fried egg (see picture, credit to Bronxbombersblog)... why, it's Jon Miller!

Next up... a Hall of Fame second baseman from the Cincinnati Reds... probably the stupidest motherfucking broadcaster ever to walk God's green earth... a man who once said "leadoff walks are worse than other walks, because you give the other team a better chance of bringing that run around." A man who prefaces every single observation - no matter how trivial, banal, or obvious - with "I've always said that..." Yes, it's your favorite and mine, Joe Morgan!

And, finally, ESPN is immensely proud to introduce a new addition to the already-impeccable Sunday Night team. A former GM and serial philanderer... a man who thinks Carlos Beltran needs to make more "game-winning plays" to be a "leader".... Steve Phillips!

Got a question about who the "leaders" are on the Mets, if any? You're in luck!

Hear Jon, Joe and Steve talk about the Mets needing a "leader" - for three hours straight!

Watch in awe as they discuss what it means to be a "leader"!

Listen in amazement as "leadership" qualities - none of which have anything to do with banalities such as batting average, RBI, OBP, slugging percentage, or hitting, fielding, and running abilities - are addressed in full!

Listen as Joe reports how Met fans "are still waiting for Beltran to get on a hot streak"! That's right...batting over .400 for the first six weeks of the season is for non-"leaders"!

Hear Steve destroy Beltran for a single at-bat that took place three years ago - and learn that a true "leader" bats 1.000 for his career, commits 0 errors, and makes 0 baserunning blunders!

Watch as Jon continues to resemble a fried egg....but a fried egg with "leadership" qualities!

It's ESPN's Leader Sunday Night Baseball! Catch the leader fever!

Oh, and there might also be a baseball game being played.

Leader!!

A Fella Could Get Used To This

No, I'm not just talking about my seats for last night's game, which, as you can see from this picture, were, um, rather good. More on that later. I'm also talking about 4 straight wins, second straight series sweep against a division rival, fourth straight strong starting pitching performance, fourth straight save for Frankie, an actual home run explosion in Citi Field of all places, and so on and so forth. Tons of positive signs right now: D. Wright is most certainly out of his mind-bendingly awful slump, Beltran is so locked in it isn't even funny, Johan is ridiculous, Reyes may have gotten off the shnide last night (we shall see), the defense has been solid, Parnell is awesome, Perez is safely on the DL. All wondrous things. (Negative side of the ledger? Ryan Church looks lost right now.)

A few notes about the recent events:

1. Shane Victorino is a bush-leaguer who badly needs a fastball in the ribcage. I think everyone can agree on this.

2. The crowd really enjoyed the display of Jerry Manuel's temper last night. Good to see. I know he ain't perfect, but I still like him. Let's give him a full start-to-finish season under his belt and reevaluate him then.

3. If the 2008 Mets had just ONE of the (non-Feliciano) pitchers in the 2009 bullpen, they would've won the division by about 10 games.

4. A brief word about our friends, the Phillie fans. First of all, I never heard a peep from these fans for 25+ years until 2007. Not a damned word. And now that they've all oozed out from whatever rock they were hiding under, I have never, ever, seen a group of fans more obsessed with a team other than their own than Phillie fans are with the Mets. It's beyond ridiculous at this point. Just hop on over to the various comment boards on the 700 Level for a peek. Jeebus, their team WON THE WORLD SERIES! Yet all they think about, talk about, scream about, fret about, and worry about is the New York Mets. By point of comparison, I am a Giant fan. When the G-Men won the Super Bowl last year, do you think I actually spent the next few months pulling my hair out over every little thing that the Eagles were doing? They were like a small, dirty piece of gum on my shoe: barely regarded as anything other than a minor anoyance. So, by all means, keep it up, Philly fans. Your team can win 1,000 championships, but you still won't win any class.

(Incidentally, the irony of fans who all root for the Philadelphia Eagles talking about "choking" is simply delicious.)

5. So, as you can see from the above picture, we had some ree-donk-ulous seats last night. Just a fantabulous way to watch a ball game. The concession area behind home plate is truly something to behold. It's basically like a first-class lounge at the airport. A fully appointed bar, no lines for anything, a marble-walled bathroom with a hi-def TV, different food stations, etc. Plus Shake Shack delivered right to your seat. Oh so nice.

Finally, what do these players have in common? Manny Ramirez, Alex Rodriguez, Jose Canseco, Roger Clemens, Andy Pettitte, Gary Sheffield, Mike Stanton, Dan Naulty, Darren Holmes, Jason Grimsley, Chuck Knoblauch, Glenallen Hill, Matt Lawton, Denny Neagle, David Bell, Kevin Brown, Jason Giambi, Randy Velarde, Ron Villone, Ricky Bones, Rondell White, and David Justice? Well, two things:

(1) They are all known steroid/PED users; and

(2) They have all played under Joe Torre.

Just sayin'.

Open Letters Are Fun

Prior to this weekend's games in Philadelphia (where the accompanying picture was snapped - see link here), you might've seen a hard-hitting piece of journalism in the Philadelphia Inquirer by one John Gonzalez. In case you missed it, you can click on the link above, but here's a sampling:

Dear Mets fans,

It's been a while since you last came to visit. You weren't missed all that much. We love to hate each other, sure, but it was kind of nice without you.

This is your first trip to town since last August. Philly has been a little busy since then. There was the World Series and the parade and the ring ceremony and, man, it just hasn't stopped. You probably saw most of it on TV since you didn't have much else to do after September. You remember all the pageantry that goes along with being a world champion, right? No? Well, maybe you have some faded pictures of 1986 in a shoebox somewhere.

Well, this whole "open letter" thing sounded like fun. His was pretty good, but I thought it required a few tweaks here and there. I think my version works a little better.

Dear Mets Phillie fans,

It's been a while since you last came to visit showered. You weren't missed educated all that much. We love to hate each other, sure, but it was kind of nice without chuckling at you.

This is your first trip to town parole hearing since last August. Philly New York has been a little busy since then. There was the World Series and the parade and the ring ceremony Broadway, the Met, MOMA, Times Square, Central Park, Lincoln Center, top-flight restaurants, the Guggenheim, Greenwich Village, SoHo, the Empire State Building, the Financial District, the Brooklyn Bridge, Prospect Park, the Statue of Liberty, four Super Bowl Championships, and two new world-class baseball stadiums and, man, it just hasn't stopped. You probably saw most of it on TV punched your sister since you didn't have much else to do after September getting out of the drunk tank. You remember all the pageantry that goes along with being a world champion first-class city, right? No? Well, maybe you have some faded pictures of 1986 1776 in a shoebox somewhere.

Ahhh. Much better.

Tale of Three Teams

Picture, if you will, three teams. All three are on the cusp of a three-game sweep of a divisional foe.

The first team is looking to sweep out a team with the highest payroll in baseball, facing a pitcher who had been 17-1 (no joke) when his team was looking to avoid a three-game sweep.

The second team is looking to complete a tough sweep on the road against a first-place team who had come into the series with the best record in baseball.

The third team is looking to finish a sweep at home, in front of a sell-out crowd, against a rookie pitcher and an absolute joke of an opponent, by far and away the worst team in baseball.

Well, you know that first team? They fought back from yet another early deficit - as they had done all weekend long - to neatly polish off their opponent. Oh, let's not forget their straight steal of home, and the fact that a certain HGH-ingesting Texan is now 17-2 when his team is facing a sweep. In short, it has become clear that the Boston Red Sox would crawl over broken glass to win a baseball game right now.

And that second team? Well, they didn't even give their opponent a chance to get off the decks, scoring 2 in the first and tacking on continuously after that for a 13-2 victory. No fuss, no muss, sweep completed. It's what championship teams do, I guess.

Now, if the Red Sox could sweep a talent-packed team like the Yankees, if the Phillies could go down to Florida and crush the first-place Marlins for the third straight game, then surely the third team we've been discussing would cruise into a relaxing victory against a pathetic opponent, right?

Well, we didn't get a straight steal of home like we saw up in Boston, we didn't get a dozen tack-on runs against a team ripe to be swept down in Florida, and we didn't get a team that would crawl over broken glass to finish off an opponent.

Rather, we got a team that strolls casually to second base and gets tagged out.

Ladies and gents, your 2009 New York Mets.

Stupid Crap

"Stupid Crap."
(stoo-pid krap)
n.

1. Unintelligent excrement.

2. The act of defecating. Yo, let's find a bathroom. I gotta take a stupid crap.

3. Meekly allowing oneself to get tagged out at home in the late innings of a tied baseball game rather than lowering one's shoulder and plowing into the catcher or, God forbid, sliding. Holy shit, did you see that stupid crap? Beltran, you're an idiot.

4. Coming out of the bullpen and giving up the tying run by way of a based-loaded, four-pitch base-on-balls. Nice work, Fossum. I cannot even begin to fathom that stupid crap. If I were the GM, he would be cut on the spot.

5. Incessant, pointless complaints about the decorations at a brand-new, first-class baseball facility. The outfield walls are black? There's not enough Met history on the walls? I couldn't care less about such stupid crap. If they field a consistently competitive team and play smart baseball, I wouldn't care if they painted the whole park neon lime green, renamed it "the Hamburglar Rotunda," and built a shrine to the other McDonaldland characters in the centerfield concourse. I really wouldn't. I'm not even kidding here.

Field of Blame

QUEENS, NY. - The New York Mets have lost two out of the first three games they have played at Citi Field, their new luxury home ballpark. And to a man, the Met players place the blame for their lackluster defense, poor starting pitching, and lack of timely hitting on a single culprit: Citi Field itself.

"There's something about the place that's not quite right, man," said rightfielder Ryan Church, whose critical misplay of a ball in the first game at Citi Field on Monday night set up the winning run. "When I went back on Rodriguez's ball in the sixth, I thought for sure I had a bead on it. Then I remembered that there's no banner in the Jackie Robinson rotunda showing Jesse Orosco flinging his glove up in the air. After that I had no chance. None."

Lefty reliever Pedro Feliciano - who inexplicably balked home the winning run shortly thereafter - agreed. "I still don't know what happened there, man. One second I'm up 0-2 on Eckstein. Then it occurs to me that there's a Jackie Robinson Rotunda, but there's no Gil Hodges Rotunda. After that, a balk was inevitable, I guess."

Pitcher Mike Pelfrey, who started Monday's game, also blamed the new ballpark for his bizarre tumble off the mound while delivering a pitch in the second inning. "It might've looked like I caught a cleat or something," he said. "Actually, I was in the middle of my wind-up when I realized that Vinny G. from Rego Park was waiting for his food in one of the 2 or 3 places in the whole park where there's no high-definition flat screen TV showing a live feed of the game. It's tough to keep your head in the game after that."

Manager Jerry Manuel, while careful to praise certain aspects of the new park, was similarly concerned. "It's tough, you know," he said. "On the one hand, you've got delicious food and drink, more comfortable seats, a better playing field, superior aesthetics, hi-def TVs, bars and lounges, and state-of-the-art amenities of all kinds. On the other hand, I couldn't find a single picture of Todd Pratt jubilantly rounding second base after his game-winning homer in the 1999 NLDS. No wonder we can't catch a fly ball right now."

Pitcher John Maine, who allowed 5 runs to the Padres in the third inning last night, was thrown by the recent allegations of less-than-perfect sightlines in Citi Field. "I was cruising along there through the first two innings, but then I suddenly realized that Joey from Ronkonkoma up in Section 404 had a somewhat obstructed view of the far right field corner. I couldn't find the strike zone after that."

Third baseman David Wright placed the blame squarely on management's failure to properly honor the team's history. "Look, it's a nice park in a lot of ways," Wright said. "But come on. Apart from the banners running along the outer concourse depicting beloved Met greats from the past, the pictures of Mr. Met welcoming you into the rotunda, the Met logos running up each and every aisle of seats, the old Shea skyline in the centerfield pavilion, the new Home Run Apple, the old Home Run Apple, and the giant "LET'S GO METS" emblazoned on top of the gorgeous hi-def scoreboard, you wouldn't even know the Mets play here at all."

"Why do you think I left 4 guys on base last night?" he added. "It's all I think about."

Mr. Met....He's Just Like You!

...He rides the elevator!

Took this picture during my first game-day visit to the new stadium last night, at which I ate a Shake Shack burger, downed a beer, shivered a bit, enjoyed exploring a bit more, and, let's see, what else? Oh yes, saw them lose. Again. Meaning my in-person record since Game 7 of the 2006 NLCS has got to be somewhere around 2-12. Literally. For a team that consistently finishes well over .500, that's extraordinary. Please, keep me the hell away from Citi Field, no matter how much I beg and plead.

By the way, the story behind the above picture is amusing. We saw Mr. Met wandering around the centerfield concourse near "Catch of the Day," when he suddenly ducked into an elevator. As I saw him standing there with his "handlers," waiting patiently for the doors to close like some stockbroker on his way to work on a Monday morning, I thought it would make a hilarious picture. So I scrambled to get the shot, but the doors started closing. I snapped it anyway, and was sure that all I got was a picture of a closed elevator door, and cursed myself for missing the opportunity. Of course, when I looked at my camera, I saw the picture you see above. I don't know, I find it hilarious for some reason.

Now, on to Citi Field. As you know, the big complaints lately have been the lack of "Met-ness" in the joint. "You can't even tell the Mets play here," the people are screaming. And looking around last night, these complainers have a point. Nope, I didn't see any indication that the Mets play here. None. Absolutely none. None at all. None whatsoever. How pathetic.

Moving on, we had some ridiculous seats last night, as you can see from this shot. I used to sit in the RF field level seats a lot at Shea, but here it basically felt like we were actually ON the field. (In fact, if this had been Shea, that where these seats would have been - on the field). Definitely got a great view of the whole place, save the far, far RF corner. But I'll take it. Oh, and we were a mere two rows - TWO! - from "Chad" the ballboy, who got roundly abused by the fans near us all game long. Poor bastard.

I must also profess my love for the center field concourse - not just for Shake Shack and Blue Smoke, both of which are great (had my first Shack Burger last night - drool....), but the whole atmosphere out there is really nice. I especially like the back of the scoreboard, which you can see here. I'm looking forward to spending more time out here when it's warmer. Oh, and as an added treat, we bumped into Danny Meyer himself, whom I never would have recognized had it not been for my dad, a true foodie. In fact, no one else seemed to recognize him either, which allowed us to chat him up for a few minutes in front of the Taqueria. Nice fella. Even let me take a pic of him with Toasty, Sr., which you can see here.

Ahh, and as for the game itself? In what has become a running theme this season, my answer is this: "Meh." On the plus side, the bullpen was outstanding, and you can live with getting shut down (save for the first inning) by one of the best pitchers in baseball. On the down side, Maine completely fell apart, and getting dominated by Heath Bell is no kind of fun at all. But hey, even if the Mets aren't playing well, at least you can enjoy a good Shake Shack burger. I know it's true because Danny Meyer told me so. (seriously, he did).