Chug-Chug-Chug

Well, it appears that finally, perhaps, maybe, could-be, hopefully, the Mets Locomotive is back on track. Of course, this has only been a relatively modest 5 out of 6 spurt, so I say this with much trepidation.

However, the signs are unmistakable. Timely hitting, quality starts, great (non-Heilman) bullpen work, solid defense, a glaring lack of boneheadedness and apathy, and, most importantly, a bounce in the step that we haven't seen in many months. I'm not completely breaking out the pom-poms until after this road trip, which is a chance to get even fatter against two bad teams. So give me 5 out of 7, and I'll be fully on board.

Unfortunately, I don't have much else to specifically add to this weekend's games, as the Mrs. and I were in St. Louis all weekend for a wedding. My thoughts on the fair city of St. Louis? It's humid. That's all I got.

Oh, well, one other thing. By far the highlight of the weekend was when the Flitgirl and I were tooling around in our rental car on Saturday afternoon, and she spotted a completely-buck-naked older man puttering around aimlessly on his front porch in suburban St. Louis, in full view of the general public. (Fortunately, as I was driving, my eyes were on the road so I missed this).

I am attempting to confirm whether or not this was Mark McGwire.

p.s. - I do have one thing to add about last night's game. One interesting thing you can learn by watching a game in HD is that Hong-Chih Kuo has no facial hair. I'm not talking about the fact that he doesn't have a mustache or a goatee, I'm saying he has NO FACIAL HAIR. Not a single living follicle. It's remarkable. And yet, we still can't hit him. Go figure.