"Proctor!!!"

Yes, the Yankees are so bad, they've officially bumped the Mets from being the lead item on a frickin' Mets blog. Clueless Joe used 5 more pitchers in yesterday's game, and has now used pitcher Scott Proctor in 15 of the Yankees' 23 games. Joe used Proctor in 83 games last year, and now he's on pace to use him more than 90 times in 2007. Ninety! Toasted Joe has obtained an exclusive list of Torre's upcoming ideas for Scott Proctor:

1. Petition the league to allow Yankees to use one pitcher multiple times in the same game, so Scott Proctor can start and then come back once Luis Visciano implodes.

2. Train Scott Proctor to throw a pitch, then outrun it to home plate and catch it himself, Bugs Bunny-style. Why? Why not?

3. Have Scott Proctor invite A-Rod and Jeter over for weekly sleepovers at Scott Proctor's apartment to ease the tension between the two of them.

4. Use Scott Proctor's mystical healing hands to fix Carl Pavano's "discomfort", just like Mr. Miyagi did for Daniel-san before the big karate tournament.

5. Have Scott Proctor put on a Superman costume, then fly around the world really fast, over and over again, thus reversing the rotation of the earth and turning back the hands of time, allowing the Yankees to rethink their decision to include only clunky, brittle veterans in their starting rotation in 2007.

Finally, last Yankee note: I heard a sound byte from Johnny Damon on the radio this morning that went something like this: "Well, there have been some positives in April. Alex and Sean Henn." Mad Dog was HOWLING.

***

As for Los Metropolitans, after two worrisome, closer-than-I-would've-liked victories, I feel good. Do I expect them to dominate the Nats? Yes, but I will NEVER be one of those fans who whines because my team didn't win by enough runs. A win is a win is a win. And a Maine is a stud is a Maine is a stud. Seriously, like, wow. I thought he'd be a solid #3 this year, but who expected this?

Finally, hats off to Julio Franco, who's been Toasty Joe's personal whipping boy all year. Game-tying hit on Saturday (not a cheapie, either) and a Mex-like play at first base yesterday to help Maine preserve the lead. Listen, he still has no business being our first option off the bench, I really believe that. But you gotta give credit where it's due, and the man had a good weekend for sure. And I was all set to unveil my new nickname for him. I guess "FourSixThree" will have to wait for another day. Good work, Julio.

**SATURDAY NIGHT UPDATE**CO-FUCKTARD OF THE WEEK**

First base umpire Tony Randazzo.

Chico Suave/Fucktard of the Week

I don't know about you, but when I saw that this was the pitching line for yesterday's game, I was a little, shall we say, "concerned":

NYM: Perez (2-1, 3.31)
WAS: Chico (1-2, 6.38)

You all remember the SUCK ME phenomenon, right? It's baaaaaaaaaaaack. So when I saw that matchup I knew we were in line for at least five quality innings from this chump and a few pathetic 3-pitch strikeouts by Carlos Delgado. What a surprise.

Matt Chico? Just look at his picture! You're telling me this guy is going to get a win off of this lineup? (Of course, if being good-looking were a prerequisite for success against the Mets, there'd be no explanation for why Chad Cordero owns us as well). 1-2 against the Nats, the worst team in the NL? Sickening. Brutal. Any other adjectives you wanna use.

But, I'm not in panic mode by any means. The Braves have been mediocre since the first week of the season, the Phillies dug themselves a big hole, and the middle of our order still hasn't come around yet. So, I expect good things. But for now, I'll confess it - I am NOT - repeat, NOT - looking forward to another season of SUCK ME.

By the way - no problem whatsoever with Willie's decision to let Ollie hit in the 6th with the bases loaded. He was cruising at that point, and besides, what's the alternative? Julio Franco, Mr. 4-6-3. Enough said.

In other news, I am thoroughly enjoying the puddle of diarrhea that's pooling up in the Bronx. And with that in mind, the Fucktard of the Week goes to Clueless Joe Torre. Yeah, his pitchers aren't getting the job done, but can someone tell me why he needs to mix and match every single inning, using, for example, 3 relievers in one inning against Tampa Bay? Pitching your only reliable starter in RELIEF? In APRIL? What he needs to do when one of his starters melts down is just throw one guy out there and let him take it on the chin for 4 innings to give the other guys a blow. I've bashed Willie for saying he doesn't manage every game like it's the seventh game of the World Series - like that gives him a license to do things that make zero sense - but Torre actually DOES manage every game like it's the seventh game of the World Series. It's comical. It's a disgrace to baseball. Joe, please, in the name of all that's holy and sacred....keep it up.

The 2007 Mets...Now With Scrubbing Bubbles!™

That's right....we've taken everyone's favorite team and added a special new ingredient, sure to get the job done. It's the 2007 Mets with Scrubbing Bubbles™! Works on stubborn grass stains, waxy build-up, and down-to-your-last-strike-against-an-All-Star-closer at-bats! Safe to use on formica, tile, Linoleum, and extra inning games! Act now and you'll receive a free "Rubbing Ramon," effective against dust, dirt, mold, and good for a tape-measure home run off the bench. Call 1-800-NYSCRUB! That's 1-800-NYSCRUB! Act now!

(References to the New York Mets' bench players as "scrubs" are meant in jest. We love them all. Except maybe Julio Franco. He's old. Offer not valid in the Bronx, where the bench players actually ARE "scrubs." All rights reserved. Act now!)

***

(1) Coming into last night's game, the Mets were in first place and had a nothing-to-sneeze-at 12-6 record. However, it felt like just about all of their wins were of the 10-2 or 8-1 variety. Thus, it was tremendous to finally see them winning a tight one-run game like they did countless times in 2006. You can't be a championship team without the ability to pull games like that out of your ass, and lord knows, that one last night required some serious pullin'. Great stuff.

(2) Was anyone else thinking that the end of last night's game was just like the end of "Major League"? Except instead of an aging catcher laying down the bunt it was a speedy reserve outfielder, and instead of having the winning run score from second, Green scored from third, and instead of having the game decide the AL pennant against the Yankees, it was a game in April against the Rockies, and instead of the pitcher sleeping with the third baseman's wife before the game, David Wright probably slept with his own girlfriend, and instead of Rene Russo emerging from the stands to kiss the hero, Kevin Burkhardt emerged from the photographers' box to stick a microphone in front of Endy. Other than that, it was identical.

(3) Quick question: Is Julio Franco really going to be the first option off of the bench in the late innings of a tight game all season? Even against a right-hander? Really? You're telling me we can't do any better than that? You know his game-winning hit against the Nats a few weeks ago was really just another one of his patented double-play balls™ that someone found a hole, right? Oy. Here are some players I'd take pinch-hitting over Julio at this point: David Newhan, Michael Tucker, Ricky Ledee, Gerald Williams, Karim Garcia, Shane Spencer. Hell, slap a uniform on Dave Gallagher in the SNY studios and send him out there. Just no more Julio Franco. PLEASE.

(4) Speaking of Dave Gallagher, he's about as charmless as John Flaherty over at YES (well, maybe not THAT bad). But after he noted that Damian Easley had been a teammate of his, I thought "my GOD...how long has Easley been playing?" The answer? Since 1992. 1992! G.H.W. Bush was president! Communism had just fallen! The Angels were still called "California"! I was finishing up my freshman year in college! 1992! (By the way, subtract 10 from 1992 and you've got the year Julio Franco broke in. Jeebus CHRIST he's old).

Finally, the Yankees. Nah, I'll just leave it alone. It's too perfect as it is.

Colorado, Please Enjoy Our Fine Chow Maine

Well that was awesome. Again.

Chow Maine turns in another sterling-silver performance, utterly baffles yet another lineup, gets another whole big stack of runs to work with, and notches another "w." I could get used to this. See, Chow Maine is definitely Toasty Joe's type of pitcher. No corner-nibbling. No soft-tossing. Not many deep counts. Just strikes, strikes, strikes. Keep the game moving, keep the defense on their toes. Give up the occasional solo HR, shrug it off, and move on. Call him the Anti-Trachsel. Of course, that's how it's supposed to work with him, and in the past sometimes the strikes became line drives, and the solo HRs became 3-run shots. But by and large, that ain't happening anymore. So today's post is for you, Chow Maine. It's only been 12 hours since you left the mound, but I'm already hungry for another start. (Sorry. Cheap Chinese food joke. Carry on.)

A few odds and ends:

(1) OK, D. Wright is still dreadful....BUT I was very excited to see him fly out to deep right field yesterday. I know, it sounds pathetic, but it seems to me that Sugar Pants always does that when he's about to come out of a slump. I really think the end is in sight.

(2) I frickin' love Jose Reyes. Nary a hit last night (a rare occurence), but he still manages to put his stamp on the game with two more stolen bases. The guy's a total freak.

(3) Nice work by Willie with Burgos in the 9th. In case you missed it, The Amburglar is handed a 5-run lead, and the headcase starts to walk the ballpark. Willie hustles out of the dugout, tells him to fuckin' throw strikes, and hustles back. A few pitches later, game over. I liked that.

(4) Some particularly egregious Met-bashing by Mike and the Dog yesterday. Get this: Talking about the Yankees' 3-game humilation in Boston, they shrug it off by calling it "just round one....they'll meet again....it's a long season...." etc., etc. OK, fine. But addressing the fact that the Braves have won 4 out of 6 from the Mets? "Awful....I'd be VERY concerned if I'm a Mets fan....here we go again...." etc., etc. How does that work exactly? The Red Sox sweep the reeling Yankees, who fall 4 games out of first with 3 teams in front of them, while the Mets only win one out of 3 to fall (gasp) a HALF GAME out of first...and the METS fans are supposed to be panicking?

Speaking of the Yankees, I found it interesting that the back page of today's Daily News says "Panic," referring to the decision to call up Phillip Hughes for a start on Thursday. Funny, I have no problem with that move. When I think of "panic," I think of using your only reliable starter, a 34-year-old with a cranky back, in multiple RELIEF appearances in cold weather in FUCKIN' APRIL. I think "panic" is using THREE pitchers to get through the 6th inning in an April game against the fuckin' Devil Rays, after coming off a 3-game series in which everyone but the clubhouse attendant threw at least 30 pitches.

You want panic? Look no further than Clueless Joe in '07. My prediction: he'll be history by August.

Merry Wedding!

Sorry about the lack of recent posts, but Toasty Joe has been on a two-day hiaturs, attending the wedding and rehearsal dinner of Tommy, aka "Maybe I Can Help" (maybe I should just call him "Tommy I Can Help"). It was a rousing, fun-filled affair, with lots of great food, stylish threads, crazy dancing and even a midnight boat cruise up and down the East River. Not bad, man - Flitgirl and I are gonna have to work hard to top that this July.

As for the Mets, blah. Obviously I didn't catch a single pitch last night, so I can't offer much (or anything) in the way of insight. Needless to say, losing to the Braves at Shea always sucks raw donkey rectum. Hopefully we can take the last two games this weekend.

***

My prior engagements yesterday also resulted in me neglecting to name this week's Fucktard of the Week. I know you've all been waiting for it. I'm gonna go with Indians "closer" Joe Borowski for his absurd meltdown on Thursday, in which he blew a 4-run lead to the Yankees with two out and nobody on base. The capper was a 3-run walk-off from the white-hot Yankee third baseman -- when first base was sitting there wide open. Huh? You, sir, stink. And more importantly, you're the Fucktard of the Week.

Deal with it.

Let's Hear It For Dontrelle Willis' Sperm

You may have noticed that Dontrelle Willis was not exactly himself last night. Perhaps it was the 4-hit, one-walk, four-run, 34-pitch first inning that tipped you off. This from a guy who's used to having anyone wearing a Mets uniform curl up into a ball at the very sight of his flat-brimmed, cocked-to-one-side cap.

The reason? Apparently Dontrelle's wife is due to give birth to little Dontrelle, Jr. any minute. Do ya think maybe that affected his performance or concentration just a tad? He says no, but c'mon. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to figure this one out: Dontrelle's potent sperm gave the Mets a break. (I bet that sentence has never been written before)

That being said, I'll take it. Chow Maine was absolutely brilliant - easily the best I've seen him pitch, even better than the complete game shut-out against Houston last year. Every pitch was working, he was throwing strikes (aside from a few blips), and the Fish didn't even get a whiff of a hit until the 7th. (By the way, how perfect was it that Smirky Smirkerson was the one who broke up the no-no. As if I needed another reason to hate him.) Very encouraging outing, especially after his blah performance his last time out, which was freaking nine days ago.

***

OK, I know for a fact I'm going to be in the minority here, but I don't agree that D. Wright's hitting streak somehow shouldn't count (or should be given an asterisk) because it spans two seasons.

First, from a very basic definitional standpoint, a hitting streak is defined as getting a hit in every game you play. Period. Wright has done that for the last 25 games. Thus, he has a 25-game hitting streak. If Cal Ripken doesn't get criticized for extending his consecutive games-played streak over multiple seasons, then don't criticize hitting streaks (which are infinitely more difficult than games-played streaks) that do the same thing.

Second, I always thought that if you're on a roll, you WANT to play every day. So wouldn't you think a 6-month off-season hiatus would HURT your chances of extending a hitting streak rather than help them?

Anyone with me here?

"To See Ramon?"

OK, I'll say it.

I love Ramon Castro.

Seriously, is there a better backup catcher in the game? The guy sits on the bench for three innings, he's ice-cold (literally), and Paulie Lo gets dinged and Ramon gets the call. So what does he do? How about 2-for-2, 2 RBIs and a walk for good measure. Oh yeah, and he catches 6 innings of shut-out baseball.

So, today's post is dedicated to you, Ramon. Sure, you might be exposed if you played every day, and you might never get a whiff of a game in the playoffs, but who cares. You, sir, are the Willie Mays of back-up catchers. On behalf of Met fans everywhere, I salute thou.

Not much else to say about last night's absolute domination of the "team to beat" (other than to note a nice game from Goldfingers), so I'll throw in a few Yankee-related points today:

(1) Well, well, well....I think that was Jose Reyes making a terrific throw from deep in the hole to nail a Phillie last night. Funny, I didn't hear Michael Kay call in to apologize for saying "only Derek Jeter makes that play" a few weeks ago. Would that be the same Jeter who leads the league in errors? Oh, THAT Jeter. Sure, I know him.

(2) Speaking of the Yanks, check out this column from CBS Sportsline scribe Gregg Doyel. Hey, we all know I hate the Yankees, but even I think this is a bit harsh:

Yankees fans are unbelievable. Their owner spends more than any owner in any U.S. sport, the team wins the obligatory World Series every now and then, and Yankees fans act as if the game was invented in the Bronx. It wasn't. It was just financed there, starting with the December day in 1919 when the Yankees bought the Babe.

Yankees fans are ingrates and boors, and most of the time that's fine with me. Buy your ticket, drink your beer and stay up there in New York ... and way the hell away from me.

Nah, come to think of it, he's spot-on.

(3) During the torrential rainstorm on Sunday, I was stuck inside watching the Yanks/A's game. It was the first chance I got to hear former catcher John Flaherty in the booth. I've read from more than a few columnists what a great job he does, so I was interested. He was BRUTAL. Possibly the most colorless color commentator I've ever heard. Sure, he appears to know his x's and o's, but he has zero personality, and he gave no flavor whatsoever to the game he was watching. Example: Since it was Jackie Robinson Day, in between pitches for about 2 innings or so Kenny Singleton (who I don't mind, by the way) was telling stories about Jackie, of the old rivalry between the Dodgers and Giants, baseball in the 1950's, etc. Flaherty said NOTHING. Zip. Not one single word. Just silence. He just sat there and waited to talk about Andy Pettite's pitch selection. I understand the topic was before Flaherty's time (he's only 40), but c'mon - I'm 33, and even I could talk about Jackie Robinson and NL baseball in the 1950's.

Also, another big strike against Flaherty: At one point Marco Scutaro wasn't able to snag a pop-up hit (by A-Rod, I think) into shallow centerfield. Flaherty: "No offense to Scutaro, but there's no one better at making that play than Derek Jeter." JESUS FUCK!! So now you're bland, colorless, AND yet another Yankee whore? Nice combination, John.

Oh, and as for Mr. Scutaro? I don't think he was offended. In fact, I think he got over it very nicely. Hee.

Red Sox Broadcaster Introduces The Phrase "Sauce-First" To The World

Hat-tip to Deadspin for the link. The slo-mo replays are hilarious.

A View From The Back

You're looking at our view from the picnic seats for yesterday's game. As fascinating it was staring at the posteriors of Endy Chavez and Chris Snelling for 3 hours, I must say the game itself left much to be desired, as the Mets were brutalized by a SUCK ME pitcher for the first time in ages. In fact, I started thinking it was a 2002-2005 Throwback Day, but Jason Phillips wasn't there to throw out the first ball.

Not much else was working, either, as the Mets continued their infuriating inability to bring in runners from third base with fewer than 2 outs. In fact, I'd wager that they've driven in more runs from third with 2-out hits this season than they have with hits/sac flies/grounders with fewer than two out. Anyone want to look that one up?

Anyway, the real story yesterday was Toasty Joe's very first trip (in 20+ years of attending games at Shea, mind you) to the Pepsi Picnic Area™. I must say, this was a good time. Wrigley Field it ain't - the food was brutal, the beer lines were outrageous, and the walk from the 7 train took about a half-freaking-hour with all the construction - but a good time was had by all. We snagged seats all the way to the left (or the right, depending on your perspective), right up against the Nats' bullpen. Unfortunately, as you can see, there's a big, garish, black fence that prevented us from interacting with the players. Doesn't say much for the Met organization's trust for its fan base, now, does it? (Someone posited that it's a holdover from the John Rocker days, which I guess I can understand). I seem to recall that in Philly, the fans can peek right down into the visitors' pen from the freaking concourse! And those fans are animals.

(By the way, the guy in the Nationals cap and "Hulkamania" t-shirt is one of my groomsmen. I may have to re-think that choice).

Fortunately, I am tall, so the fence did not prevent me from snapping a pic of the Nats in their pen. Feel the excitement, people! I was actually hoping to capture Jon Rauch staring up in awe at the giant frappuchino cup like one of the apes from "2001." Oh well.

Incidentally, there was a security guard stationed in the front corner of our section who barked at you if you peeked over the fence for too long. What is this all about? You can't look over a fucking fence? It's one thing if he catches you throwing something, or spitting, or cursing at the players...but you can't even LOOK at them? Isn't that why we paid for our tickets? To look at baseball players? I don't get it.

(Quick anecdote here: In 1999, my friend Jeff and I were sitting on the other side of the visitors' pen (in the mezzanine) for a game against Houston - we 're talking last row, right on top of the players. We were in full heckle mode, but in a friendly way. I even made some pitcher named Brian Williams laugh. I kept calling him "Bison Dele." At one point he was stretching out his leg, and I believe I referred to him as "Jane Fonda." He got a kick out of that. And, as the game wound down, Jeff said to a certain reliever named Wagner: "hey Billy, see you in October," to which he replied "Hope so." Fun times. Of course, then the douchebag security guards told us to stop talking to them.)

So, in sum, I was glad to experience the picnic area before Shea closes. I think I've now experienced everything Shea Stadium has to offer. Which ain't too much. Is it 2009 yet?

R.I.P.

Goldfingers/Fucktard of the Week

Goldfingers...
He's the man, the man with the moist touch,
Like a toilet brush.
Such smelly fingers;
His teammates won't slap him five,
But he don't mind...

Golden drops he will pour into his hand;
He called out Steve Bartman in the stands;
He's old and slow, and Count Choc's not his biggest fan...
But he don't mind ...

Mister Goldfingers...

Yesterday I decried the anemic hitting performance of a certain Mr. Alou, whom I sloppily dubbed "Mr. Pee-Pee." Tom then suggested "Golden Hands," which I thought was a fine effort, but it required slight modification on my part. I thus bring you "Goldfingers." While he wasn't exactly the star of the show last night - that honor goes to Messrs. Glavine and Reyes - he went 3-for-4, smoked the ball in every at-bat, knocked in a crucial insurance run, and went a long way towards shutting me up. Thus, I dedicate this game to you, Goldfingers. Now I just have to figure out who will get the honor of the name "Octopussy." Early indications point to Ollie Perez.

A few odds and ends:

(1) I could sit here and talk about Jose Reyes' speed, power, defense, athleticism, attitude, etc., but it's all been done to death. I do, however, want to point out an aspect to his game that's kind of going overlooked, especially this season, last night in particular: The dude is fucking clutch. Right now, he's third in all of baseball in RBIs, and that's from the fucking leadoff spot, with the likes of John Maine hitting behind him, not to mention Jose (.172) Valentin. Compare that to the two guys who are ahead of him in RBIs: A-Rod, who hits behind the likes of Damon, Jeter, and Abreu, and Miggy Cabrera, a #3 hitter. How is Reyes driving in all these runs? It's been said over and over again, but the sky's the limit with this kid, people.

(2) Outstanding job by Tommy Glavine working through some tough early innings. Darling said it last night: I hope O.Pee was watching.

(3) Gary and Ron mentioned that Mex was absent from the booth last night because he had been in a minor fender-bender and his airbag hadn't deployed. I didn't think much of it at the time, but then a hear a few hours later that N.J. Gov. Corzine had been brutally injured in a car crash caused by an as-yet unidentified vehicle. Hmmm....

***

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for: the Fucktard of the Week. Lots of potential candidates this week. Do I go with Willie "I'm not playing every game like it's the 7th game of the World Series, therefore I'm free to make moves that make no sense whatsoever" Randolph? I could go with Mr. Don Imus, but his moronic remarks were actually made last week, so he's ineligible. Al Sharpton is always a possibility, but giving Al Sharpton an award for being a fucktard is like giving fire an award for being hot.

No, I think I'm gonna go with the CEO of CBS, Mr. Les Moonves. Listen, I don't think Imus should've been fired for one stupid remark, but Mr. Moonves made a business decision, and that's obviously his preogative. (I'd be infinitely more outraged if the FCC forced him off the air). But to fire a guy who's been your loyal employee for over 20 years, who's generated tens of millions of dollars for your company over that time, in the middle of the fucking 2-day radiothon for Sudden Infant Death Syndrome which Imus had spearheaded for the past two decades is beyond outrageous. You couldn't wait maybe one more day? Congrats, Les...you're the Fucktard of the Week.

Incidentally, I was flipping around last night after the game and stumbled across that dreadful "Mind of Mencia" show on Comedy Central, which I think is controlled by some conglomerate of CBS and Viacom (someone please correct me if I'm wrong). Anyway, Mencia has a skit called "Are You Smarter Than A Wetback?" I can only assume Reverend Al is working on those protest signs as we speak, and that Mr. Moonves is drawing up Mr. Mencia's pink slip. Otherwise, that might make them somewhat, I don't know, hypocritical.

The Night O.Pee & Mr. Pee-Pee Peed The Bed

So I was sitting at my desk yesterday afternoon, just another hum-drum day, when I get the instant message that we all dream about, this time from SonnyD:

I may have an extra ticket to the game.

Wha-wha-WHAA? But there was more:

7 rows behind first base, apparently.

Needless to say, despite the fact that it required a shlep all the way uptown to change clothes, and another shelp all the way over to Queens, I was in.

Unfortunately, as good as the seats were, that's as bad as O.P. was. Crikey! It was so bad, we had to laugh. However, I will say this: Given the Willie-related controversy on this site over the past week, I can confirm that I had no problem whatsoever with Willie's decision to pull Ollie in the third inning after he'd given up 7 walks and hit a guy. It was a move I supported 100%. Happy now?

Nothing much happened on the offensive side, either. Chief culprit was Mr. Pee-Pee (pictured here).
I have yet to think of a proper nickname for Moises, but I know it has to involve urine in some way. Since I am feeling about as creative as a staple remover right now, Mr. Pee-Pee will have to do. (For those who don't know, Moises apparently pees on his hands before every game to toughen them up. No, seriously. I shit you not). Anyway, Mr. Pee-Pee was atrocious at the dish last night. Consider:

Bottom 2nd, grounds out to Eaton.

Bottom 4th, bases loaded, nobody out, hits into back-breaking double-play.

Bottom 7th, flies out.

Bottom 9th, strikes out looking with the tying run on deck.

Now, I understand that no one else really was tearing the cover off the ball, but for some reason this performance sticks out in my mind as being especially meek. Keep this up and it won't be long until the "Alooooouuuus" turn to "booooooooooooos."

Seeing as how this was my first trip to Shea this year, I noted a few things:

(A) The giant Dunkin' Donuts frappachino cup (or whatever the hell it is) in left field is hideous. And just to add insult to injury, it rotates during the 7th inning stretch. Swell.

(B) OK, it's time to clean off the home run apple and hat. Seriously. Just get a high-powered hose and some Lysol and go to town. It's in abominable shape at this point. Either that or get rid of it. I think it will be funny seeing it on the side of the road, waiting to get picked up by the garbage truck.

(C) It was hardly a packed house last night, but the bathroom lines down at the field level were pretty long. However, if you leave for the can when there's 2 outs and nobody on (as opposed to just after the inning ends), there is a 5,000% difference in the time you will have to wait until you can urinate. Highly recommended.

And that's all for now. I don't plan on trudging through the puddles out to Shea tonight, if they get it in. Two out of three would be swellicious.

***

p.s. Apparently novelist Kurt Vonnegut has died. I know he is a notable, accomplished writer, but whenever I hear his name, I think of this:

"And another thing, Vonnegut! I'm stopping payment on the check! Fuck me? Hey Kurt, you read lips? Fuck you!"

AfterMASH

The worst title for the worst spin-off of a great show of all time is the inspiration for my two topics today.

Let's start off with the aftermath of the furor surrounding Willie's decision to let the Amburglar pitch to Ryan Howard with first base open on Monday. Listen, people. I'm not going to repeat myself, and you're probably all sick of this stuff by now. You can read my thoughts and all opposing and supporting viewpoints here and here. I thought this decision was 100% indefensible. Having said that, however, I'd like it known that I'm not prepared to adopt Mr. Met's decision that Willie is a bad in-game manager. Yes, he has the occasional decision that will make me scream in anger even BEFORE it blows up in his face (like Monday). But I think, by and large, he did a good job last year, save for a brutally managed series in San Fran (remember this?). Is he a big-time manager? Probably not, but I like him and I thought the contract extension was well-deserved. Having said that, I have a right to annihilate him any time he does something patently stupid like he did on Monday. Enough said.

(Actually, looking back at that post from a year ago, I see that he walked Barry Bonds, who, like Ryan Howard, was hitting around .220 at the time, in the first fricking inning with first base NOT open. How you gonna do that, and NOT walk Howard in the LATE innings with first base OPEN?? OK, let's not get me going on this again.)

The second issue, which has been utterly beaten to a bloody pulp over the last 48 hours. is the Imus thing. People, I'll make my position very clear on this one. In fact, I only require five words:

Don't like him? Don't listen.

Easy. Simple. Learn it. Live it. Know it.

Now, having said that, I thought the Rutgers ladies were rather impressive in their press conference yesterday. Certainly, if Imus has a right to say what he said (which, by the way, I would describe as a brutally misguided extemporaneous attempt at humor), they have a right to say how it affected them. No problem whatsoever there. But it got me to thinking, why have they been affected this way? Why, as one girl put it, has this "scarred her for life"? Do you think that MAYBE, just maybe, this absurd whirlwind of media attention to one DJ's off-the-cuff stupid remark has had anything to do with it? Do you think that maybe, given what's going on the the world, the media should be doing something better with its time? Do you think that maybe if it wasn't for all these hysterical headlines, the majority of the population - these girls included - would never even be affected by this? Just some food for thought.

Now, having said all of that, I got a MAJOR kick out of the fact that Mike and the Dog spent about 5 hours on this topic yesterday. Here are two rich, white, and completely out-of-touch sportscasters. I can't imagine two people LESS qualified opine about race relations in America. And not surprsingly, in classic Mike/Dog style, they gave you the terse, obligatory "we can't defend what Imus said" at the beginning, but then they spend the next 4 hours and 59 minutes tearing into Al Sharpton. Very thought-provoking.

Best moment? When an irate caller started screaming at Dog "You're a PUNK. You're a PUNK! You're a PUNK!!" before they finally cut him off. I think we've all wanted to say that at some point.

Willie Randolph: Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader?

Jeff Foxworthy: Howdy, y'all. I'm Jeff Foxworthy. I wrote a bunch of great jokes about 15 years ago, like "if your family tree don't branch, you might be a redneck." Get it? 'Cause we like to have sex with our family members. Anyway, let's get on with the game!

[theme music]

JF: And now, he's the manager of the New York Mets, please welcome, Willie Randolph!!

Willie Randolph: Thanks, Jeff, great to be here.

JF: Hey Willie, check this one out. "If you like the Atlanta Braves....you might be a redneck!" Ha, ha ha.

WR: Ha, ha, ha. That's a good one. So true, so true.

JF: Don't I know it. Anyway, let's welcome today's fifth grader: Billy!

Billy: Hi. [nervously picks nose]

JF: Hey there, Billy. Don't think we didn't see you pickin' your nose there. You know what they say: If you pick yer nose on national TV....y'all might be a redneck! Ha, ha, ha.

WR: Ha, ha, ha. Yeah, Joe Torre does that all the time. I'm not sure if that makes him a redneck. But he does like to pick his nose.

JF: OK, let's git 'er done and get on with the game. Willie, the first question is for you. You're managing a baseball game in which your team is leading by one run. The other team has put runners on 2nd and 3rd with two out. First base is open. On the mound is a shaky young righty pitcher who's already thrown about 30 pitches, and who's prone to givin' up lots an' lots of home runs. At the plate is the reigning league MVP, a lefty, who hit 58 home runs last season. Do you:

(A) Walk the MVP, and have your pitcher go after next guy, a righty;

(B) Bring in a fresh lefty pitcher to battle the MVP;

(C) Let your tired righty pitch to the MVP, stick your thumb up your ass, and get a good spot on the bench from which you can and watch as the ball enters Pluto's orbit?

Think hard now, Willie. What are you gonna pick?

WR: Hm, let's see here. I can't go with (A), because I like to manage by "feel." And that just doesn't "feel" right to me. I can't explain it any better than that. As for (B), well, why would I put in another pitcher when I have one on the mound already? Doesn't that seem wasteful?

JF: So what are you saying?

WR: I'm going with (C), Jeff. Let's see what this kid's made of.

JF: Um, ok. Are you sure you read (C) all the way through?

WR: I don't need to do that. It just feels right. I trust my guys.

JF: OK, Willie. Billy, you're up. Which do you choose?

B: Well, my daddy once told me that, like, when you've got a lefty pitching to a lefty, it's better for the pitcher. And you said the guy is an "N.V.P," and I think that means he's really, really, um, good. So, like, only a poop-head would pick (C). I want (B). It sounds like this pitcher is, like, really sleepy, and when I'm sleepy I like to take a nap, not play sports. This one time my gym teacher made me play kickball when I was sick, and I, like, made a diarrhea in my pants. They had to call the nurse.

JF: OK, thanks Billy. Willie, sorry to say it, but the correct answer is (B). Billy is the winner!

WR: Well, it happens, Jeff. I trust my guys.

JF: Uh, yeah. But for being such a good sport, please enjoy your consolation prize: It's a comeback victory for your team, which ensures that no one will talk about your absurd decision!

WR: You kidding me? Thanks! I woulda been happy with Billy's soiled pants!

JF: And that's all for "Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader?" Good night, and remember: "If you're a dumb hick, you might be a redneck." Dagnabit, that doesn't really work, does it...

[closing theme]

The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

A.K.A. a quick way for the lazy blogger to recap a busy weekend:

The Good: Mets starting pitching, Jose Reyes The Freaking Triple Machine, Shawn Green's bat, the Phillies' 1-5 start, watching Chipper drop a pop-up, AJ Soprano's girlfriend in a towel.

The Bad: Jose Valentin's bat, Shawn Green's glove, Aaron Heilman.

The Ugly: The image of Carm giving Tony a birthday blow job, Carlos Delgado's glove, dropping 2 of 3 from the Braves.

After Friday night, I had trouble believing the Mets would lose 2 in a row all season, so I certainly didn't expect them to drop the next two. Saturday was just plain smelly, but they probably win anyway if Green gets one more inch of elevation on that line drive. That play led to some hopping around and swearing in my apartment, much to the bemusement of the puppy (and the Flitgirl). As for Sunday, well shit, I don't like Aaron, so I'll choose to pile on him. I still maintain he's a disaster waiting to happen every time he's out there, notwithstanding his strong finish in garbage time last season.

On to more important matters: I thought last night's Sopranos was a top-notch episode all around. As always, each scene was pervaded with this sense of dread, even when it was just four people sitting around telling old stories. Extra-special high marks for two laugh-out-loud moments: Tony abruptly hanging up on that idiot Christopher when he calls to wish him a happy belated birthday (I laughed for a good minute), and Bobby's line about the rules of Monopoly. ("The Parker Brothers went through the trouble to write these rules down. I think we should respect that.") Lots of references to the ducks from the first episode, and a hat-tip to the Godfather in the scene with Bobby's first hit. Just as Michael hesistated and nearly botched the Sollozzo murder, Bobby left all kinds of evidence behind before finally dropping the gun (as Michael did in Louis' Restaurant).

Overall, I give it an A-minus, and I couldn't be more excited to see how David Chase finishes this baby out.

Fucktard of the Week

This week's winner is - you guessed it - New York Knicks coach Isiah Thomas, who was fined $50,000 this week for claiming that NBA referees have a "lack of respect" for Stephon Marbury, and that Stephon is "officiated differently than other guards who drive to the basket."

Couple of thoughts here:

(1) What exactly has Stephon Marbury done to earn all this "respect" from the referees? Is it all those championship rings he doesn't have? All those playoff series he hasn't won? His tatoos? Cheap sneakers? Explain.

(2) Yes, Zeke...Marbury getting squeezed by the refs is the reason you're not going to make the playoffs in the worst conference in the history of the NBA. It has nothing to do with the roster of fuck-ups you put together. You called it.

(3) Isiah later tried to backtrack, saying "I don't think the officials have an agenda" against Marbury. Listen, Zeke, either you do or you don't. Pussy. I hate Phil Jackson (for very different reasons), but at least when he said the refs were conducting a "witch hunt" on Kobe Bryant, there was no room for equivocation.

So congratulations, Isiah. Now you're an idiot AND you're $50K lighter. Oh, and you're also the FUCKTARD OF THE WEEK!

***

This week's runner-up? Michael Kay, for his comment during last night's Yankee/D-Ray game, after the Tampa shortstop didn't bother throwing to first after fielding a ball Jeter hit way into the hole between third and short: "Only one shortstop makes that throw, and that's the guy who hit it." Yes, Michael Kay might be the last remaining passenger on the "Derek Jeter is a great defensive shortstop" bandwagon. I think Suzyn Waldman is the driver.

Perfect

per·fect
adjective

1. conforming absolutely to the description or definition of an ideal type: a perfect sphere; a perfect gentleman.

2. excellent or complete beyond practical or theoretical improvement.

3. track #3 on the Smashing Pumpkins' vastly underrated "Adore" album.

4. a 1985 film about aerobics, in which John Travolta and Jamie Lee Curtis wear a lot of spandex, put on a lot of headbands and leg-warmers, sweat a lot, and probably get it on.

5. the 3-game series played by the New York Metropolitans Baseball Club in St. Louis, Missouri from April 1, 2007 to April 4, 2007.

If it's possible to play a perfect series, this was it. Flawless, sparkling defense. Timely hitting. Zero errors. Top-notch starting pitching. Stress-free bullpen work. And last night, the capper, a freaking 10-0, 2-hit shut-out. All against the defending World Series champions, in their house.

Yes, it's only April 5, but forgive me if I'm a little excited.

***

(1) I could've sworn I heard Gary say last night that John Maine is the first player in major league history whose last name is spelled the same as a state. Has he not heard of this guy, this guy, this guy, this guy or this guy? I'm confused. Perhaps I mis-heard him.

(2) Hey Jimmy Rollins, how's the view from the bottom?

(3) Watching Mookie Wilson's son (stepson? nephew? I can never remember) in right field last night was borderline depressing. It was like every baseball hit his way was a meteor falling from the sky. Hey Preston, it's your home freaking stadium. Just a hunch here, but I think you should know the nuances of the outfield by now.

(4) We didn't smack around Looper quite as much as I would've liked - I give him props for pitching as well as he did for as long as he did against a tough lineup. If anything, Tony LaDoucheBag is probably to blame for leaving him out there way too long. Probably the only instance I can recall of Tony under-managing.

(5) Viva Chow Maine! What a performance. He still had that "blip" moment where his concentration started to slip away (after the perfecto got broken up in the 5th), but, unlike last year, he fought right through it this time. Swellicious.

So now it's off to Atlanta, our own personal pissing ground last season. I'd normally root for a 15-inning marathon game between the Braves and Phils this afternoon to drain the Braves' brand-spanking new and improved bullpen, but honestly, at this point, bring 'em on.

It's April 5, and I feel goooood.

NL Baseball...It's Faaaaaaan-fucking-tastic!

Forget about which league is "better" or has more talent. Yesterday's game was a perfect example of why NL baseball has, and will always have, superior brand of baseball. Consider:

(1) Top first: Reyes walks, Paulie Lo sac bunts, Beltran sac fly. 1-0. Fundies, fundies, fundies. Not saying this never happens in the AL, but you can count on one hand the number of sacrifice bunts you see up in the Bronx all season. In fact, when Mientkewiecz layed one down the other day, I thought I was gonna pass out from shock.

(2) Top sixth: Second and third, two out, the Cards do the right thing and walk Zorro in the 8th spot to force Willie's hand. Willie wisely stays with Duque, who's pitching a gem and already has two runs in his pocket. Duque pays Willie back by slapping one down the line, plating two more runs. I love this game!!!

(3) Bottom eighth/top ninth: After Green makes the last out of the top eighth, Willie double-switches Green out of the game for Schoeneweis, and plugs EndyEndyEndy (oy oy oy) into right field in the 9th spot, which is due up in the ninth inning. EndyEndyEndy (oy oy oy) rewards Willie by singling in the ninth.

Sacrifice bunts. Intentional walks. Pitchers getting RBIs. Double-switching. As Mets fans/NL fans, we take it all for granted. It may not be sexy, but it sure beats watching that fast-pitch softball they call the American League. (By the by, which league won the World Series again?)

Oh, and another Mets win always makes the whole concoction go down that much smoother.

"Ohhhh, Poor You!!"

Why was I excited for this week? Opening day? Sure. NCAA champsionship? Eh. (Congrats, Bookie) But the biggie is the return of Tony, Chris-tu-fuh, Sil, Paulie and all the gang this Sunday. Here is a brilliant (and very funny) 7-minute recap of the entire series so far. This was too good not to post. Watch it before the cease-and-desist letters from HBO come down. (p.s., I never realized how much Tony's goomahs all looked the same).

Did That Blow Your Mind? That Just Happened!

"Waaaaah, the Mets aren't winning enough Spring Training games!"

"Waaaaah, they look flat!"

"Waaaaaaah, there's something missing this year!"

"Waaaaaah, why did we keep Valentin and Green, they're garbage." (OK, that one was said by me)

Well, well, well...lookie who's back. With quick efficiency, timely hitting, solid defense, and just enough pitching, the Mets re-emerged with a bang last night, knocking off the defending chumps in a hostile atmosphere (well, it's St. Louis, so maybe "tepidly hostile atmostphere in a mild, cow-tipping kind of way" is more accurate) on opening night. It's not exactly "Game 8," but it does help wash away a little bit of the sour taste from last October. Kind of like drinking a thimble of Listerine after swallowing five whole garlic cloves. But I'll take it.

Some quickies:

(1) I watched the first 4 innings at Brooklyn Met Fan's Blondie's party, where I met up with BMF himself, the great Coop herself, and a few others. Nice seeing you guys, we definitely need to do that again. Adam, your next beer is on me.

(2) Viva Valentin! Man, that was a sick play. I also enjoyed the enthusiastic fist-pump/primal scream from Zorro as he ran off the field. I don't recall seeing much of that from him last year.

(3) John Harper's column in the Daily News today questions Willie's decision to throw a rookie into the fire on opening day with ducks on the pond. Honestly, I had less of a problem with that than I did with going to Wagner with a 5-run lead in the 9th. Did he really need the work that bad? Did anyone feel comfortable in that situation? He did close it out, but only after scaring the daylights out of me yet again by letting two Redbirds get aboard. We all know Billy doesn't exactly thrive in non-save situations. Why not let Heilman (2 pitches in the 8th) finish it out?

(4) Speaking of "did that blow your mind? That just happened!", I can't believe I actually saw a Met get picked off of first base with the "fake to third, throw to first" move. That NEVER works. Jose....Jose, Jose, Jose....Jose....Jose.....how could you?

(5) Please don't take the fact that I am quoting "Talledega Nights" as an endorsement of that otherwise mediocre movie (sorry Coop). Why anyone would watch that when they could just watch the vastly superior "Anchorman" again (which gets funnier every time you watch it) is beyond me.

(6) A WCBS/880 reporter was in the bar last night, and Toasty Joe, Coop, and BMF all got interviewed. One question he asked me was "Why the Mets?"

What I should've said: Why the Mets? Sir, you may as well be asking "why not the Mets?" From their humble beginnings as loveable losers, to their euphoric glory days or 1969 and 1986, to their meteoric rise to power last season, the Mets are truly New York's team -- nay, "America's team." And that is why, every time I lay eyes on the orange and the blue, I cannot help but shed a tear, for you see, the Mets are a part of me. Now and forever. Thank you.

What I actually said: Errrr......uhhhhh......I like 'em.

Finally, for the record, Joe Morgan (a.k.a. the Billy Packer of baseball) thinks that the fake-to-third/throw-to-first move is a balk. I guess baseball better take notice....The Lord Hath Spoken.