The All-Star Break Can Blow Me

The Mets are on a freakin' tear right now, winning nine games in a row, only to be interrupted by the All-Star break. Is there anything Bud Selig can't screw up?

Mezzanine Reserved Row D Is Ideal for Rain Delays

Hey, Mets fans (a.k.a. B&E readers)! The Boys of Shea Stadium are playing like a real team again. They've even won five in a row. I hesitate to say it was firing Willie that got the Mets going, but maybe Jerry Manuel scares the players into doing better.

Last night was another victory, one that featured a half-hour rain delay. My mini-ticket plan is in the mezzanine reserved area about two rows deep under the upper deck overhang. So when it began pissing down rain, we had the perfect seats to enjoy the downpour. It was really satisfying. It's funny the simple things that can make you happy. The heavy rains made me very happy.

Overall, it was a short rain delay, and when the players came back to finish the game, the Mets held on to win. A great evening at Shea, complete with Carvel ice cream.

The Douchebag Report:
Welcome to a new Mets game feature! At most baseball games, one ends up sitting next to a douchebag or two. And we Mets fans are not only no exception, they nearly define the douchebag fan! So why not call them out?

Big douchebags sitting behind us. I didn't hear any gay slurs, but they did spend a good deal of time commenting on how disgusting some of the lady Mets fans looked, and the only time the fucking idiots stopped talking was when a more attractive lady Mets fan sauntered by. And their baseball-related comedic banter wasn't remotely funny. Four out of a possible five douchebags.

No time for a hottie this morning, non-baseball fans.

There Is No Streak

New York's abuzz with Mets/Yankees games. In their previous meeting this season, the Mets took two from the Yanks at Yankee Stadium and had one rain-out. The rain-out was made up yesterday afternoon, and with the drubbing of nine RBI from aging slugger and occasional fan scapegoat Carlos Delgado, the Mets swept the Yankees at Yankee Stadium for the first time ever. Good times.

Naturally, I attended the night game at Shea, where the Yankees returned the favor and clobbered the Mets 9-0. Ouch.

So whatever mojo I may have had as a fan influencing Mets victories at Shea... Yeah, that's gone.

A side note, relating to Gay Pride Week. Trash-talking is a popular pastime between Yankees and Mets fans, often all in good fun, although as last night's blowout continued, we saw more and more security guards running around to break up fights and kick people out.

So what does this have to do with Gay Pride Week? Well, gay slurs are a frequent trash-talking approach taken by the less imaginative fan. So when, for example, a Yankees fan suggested loudly that Pedro Martinez get his ass off the mound and become a bullpen coach instead (perhaps a decent idea, actually), the inebriated Mets numbnut sitting nearby taunted, in return, "Only when Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez start going out, fucking faggots!"

It didn't really make sense as a reply to the Yankees fan's comment. But "fucking faggot" is really a classic. I mean, it works on so many levels. "Fucking faggot" is to sports taunting what a banana peel, pie in the face, or groin kick is to slapstick. You just don't fix what's not broken. You don't reinvent the wheel of trash-talk.

Oh, did I say "classic"? I meant "classless." When you take the discourse as low as "fucking faggot," you really present yourself as a douchebag, dickhead, cock-knocker, fartmunch, and pigfucker.

In defense of the homophobic Mets fan, he had also bragged loudly that over the course of the doubleheader, he'd downed no less than seventeen beers. The beer man suggested he not tell the beer man that. And the beer man served him number eighteen anyway.

Shea Stadium: All class.

OK, So Maybe He Can Kick Ass

This whole Willie Randolph firing from the Mets has me feeling pretty crappy about the crappy Mets. I've been giving Willie the benefit of the doubt here. After all, how do you motivate a bunch of overpaid, under-performing wannabe superstars? Is it Willie's fault that a player making more than ten million dollars this season alone is totally average in every way?

At the same time, I'm not going to be a big Willie defender. After all, the Mets have lost more games than they've won this year (and yes, there was the well-documented collapse of last season), and Willie's been the man in charge. At least where game decisions are concerned.

But seriously, the manner in which he was fired? Classless.

So do these overpaid, under-performing lame-o's need an ass-kicker? When the rumors of Willie's firing first surfaced, I was thinking management would put in place someone like Larry Bowa or Lou Piniella. You know, someone who instills fear in their players because they've got tempers like Yosemite Sam.

Instead Willie was replaced by his bench coach, Jerry Manuel. Truth be told, I don't know much about Jerry. He's had some success in the past as a Major League manager. He was Willie's bench coach. He sat there and calmly muttered advice to Willie. He probably knows a thing or two about baseball. But an ass-kicker? I don't know.

Because the whole Willie firing left a bad taste in my mouth, I opted to take a short break from the Mets. I'd heard something about how during Jerry's first game as manager Jose Reyes had some sort of hissy-fit on the field because Jerry wanted to pull him. I was like, "Terrific. Jose's acting like a five-year-old testing boundaries with his parents." And I didn't think much else about it.

Enter Titivil, not my usual source for baseball news. His post pointed me in the direction of this story.

Well, holy shit. Jerry Manuel threatened to "go gangster" and use a blade to spill the blood of his All-Star shortstop. Maybe he is what the Mets need in a manager.

Still, Willie, you got totally screwed.

And Omar, look out, baby. This is the team you built. If they don't succeed now, it's your fucking problem. And Jerry Manuel's not afraid to get out his trusty blade and cut you.

For the non-baseball fans, I offer a gangster hottie:

The Mets Stink, and It's All Tom Nieto's Fault

The Mets finally fired Tom Nieto. This has been a group of underachieving, overpaid wannabe superstars, and no one is to blame more than the lackluster first-base coach.

In the last week alone he tried to hold Jose Reyes at first on a triple, he flat-out refused to take Carlos Beltran's ankle armor after a walk, and his pep-talks ranged from, "Take a seat; there's no point" to "Thirty-seven planes have flown over Shea since the third inning."

And don't even get me started about his butt pats. I mean, let's face it: those things are caresses with a dollop of squeeze.

A New Streak?

I attended last night's Mets game, and the difference was astounding. It wasn't just that they won; they played like they cared. Two-out rallies, solid defense, decent pitching, delicious Carvel ice cream with hot fudge served in a souvenir helmet. So although it's too early to say that the Mets are back, the Mets are back.

And because I tried to post this for Mike Piazza's retirement, and it didn't work, I offer you ladies and gay fellas this choice image. Enjoy.

My Mets Streak - R.I.P.

The Mets have lost six of seven, Willie's under fire from management, and the fans are getting restless. So I figured last night was a perfect time for me to take my winning streak back to Shea.

Alas, even my Mets mojo couldn't overcome the magnitude of their suckitude. And so my streak ends at 16 (or so) games, spanning over parts of three seasons. The Mets play with no passion, no fire, no attention-span. Jose Reyes provided all of the offense, hitting two home runs, but he balanced that with a booted ball in the first, which resulted in two unearned runs. The Marlins then earned a few more runs, and the Mets didn't seem to care enough to answer.

Prior to the game, Willie had a two-hour-plus meeting with management, presumably to discuss his future (a potentially very short future) with the team. Maybe this group of underachievers needs an ass-kicking manager. The strong, silent type doesn't seem to be inspiring them much.

I wonder if Coach Eric Taylor of the Dillon Panthers knows anything about baseball.

Mets Streak, you were an awesome force of winning energy. You will not be forgotten.

Maybe He'll Join the AARP

In spite of a particularly busy week, I can't let Mike Piazza's retirement from baseball go without comment.

I haven't always been a Mets fan. In fact, I became aware of baseball (and began playing) when my family lived in the Houston area, so for most of my life, I was an Astros fan. I might well be the only Mets fan who remembers 1986 with both clarity and sadness.

When I went off to college, sports were decidedly uncool, and I pursued other interests. I didn't really begin to follow baseball again until after the infamous strike of '94. In 1996, when Yankees fever was reaching its pitch in NYC, I have to admit that I got caught up in it. I was thrilled when the Yanks won the World Series.

But I'm a National League guy, so I started attending Mets games instead. In fact, when David Wells pitched his perfect game for the Yankees on my birthday in 1998, I had decided to attend the game at Shea Stadium instead. I was a bit bummed, I admit, but I had made my choice, the Mets were my team, and Mike Piazza actually joined them less than a week later.

The mid-nineties had been a rough time for the Mets, and when they signed Piazza to a giant, multi-year commitment, it was difficult to understand why Piazza would agree to lock himself in to play for such a lousy team for such a long time.

But led by Piazza, those Mets teams of the late 90s and early 00s were some of the most exciting teams I've ever followed. Other than Mike, there were no real stars. They were a ragtag bunch of solidly good players over-achieving and having a blast doing so. Todd Zeile? Rick Reed? Benny Agbayani? I mean, really, come on.

Yes, there was heartbreak, and it's a real shame that Piazza wasn't rewarded with a Mets championship ring for his efforts, but the ride was a good one.

Like so many other Mets fans, I say a fond farewell to Mike Piazza to whom I offer at least partial credit for my rediscovered love of baseball. What other player in what other market would need to answer questions from reporters to confirm that he's straight?

(And if the Blogger glitch ever gets worked out, the accompanying photo should offer enough beefcake to those B&E readers who don't much care for the baseball.)

But What's Really Astonishing...

John Edwards endorses Obama. A third staunchly pro-Republican seat in Congress (this one in Mississippi) turned Democrat. And Fernando Tatis hit a single in last night's Mets game.

Really? Fernando Tatis?

As Mel Allen might've said, "How about that?"

This is Bad Even by MTA Standards

A Mets article in the New York Times leads with this:

The journey from Brooklyn to Queens is a short one geographically, but it took Nelson Figueroa 13 years to make the trip.

Looks like Nelson discovered the perils of the G train!

Zang! zzP-POW! Wocka-wocka-wocka!

The Phillies Lost, so by Default...

On my first trip to (the last season at) Shea Stadium, the Mets beat the Phillies. Really, the Phillies beat themselves, what with those four errors and six unearned runs. But hey, we'll take it!

For years, the rivalry in the National League East was a Braves/Mets thing. The Braves kept winning the division, and the Mets were sometimes close. Occasionally (as in 2000) the Mets would advance further in the playoffs. Other times, the Braves would defeat the Mets in the playoffs. It was a classic rivalry. Some racist, homophobic trash-talking from a cracker-ass relief pitcher hopped up on the juice added the necessary color.

During last night's game, some meathead (and, dare I say, douchebag) Mets fans got trashed and started screaming at a nearby Phillies fan. A little fun, even borderline mean-spirited razzing can be a good time, but these taunts were full of "faggots" and "fucks" and screamed at the top of their lungs.

Now, I'll defend a certain amount of colorful, salty language at a ballpark, but this was obnoxious even for those of us who don't get terribly offended by linguistic unimaginativeness. I think a family near us complained to an usher, who came and asked them calmly to sit down and shut up. The usher had no pull with these douchebags, and one dude in particular just wouldn't stop screaming obscenities.

It took some time, but security finally made its way and escorted the douchebags out.

My buddy and I then discussed that if the National League East rivalry becomes more about the Phillies vs. the Mets rather than the Braves vs. the Mets, it has the potential for being a lot more volatile. Not only are the rival cities much closer in proximity, but Phillies fans really seem to care with the same passion as a Mets fan.

The thing that was always disappointing about the Braves rivalry was that you couldn't help but feel that when push came to shove, Braves fans kinda didn't give a shit. I'd say it was because they just knew they were better than everyone else (which was usually true), but they couldn't even sell-out playoff games. What's wrong with those guys?

Fans in Philly are famous for getting raucous, rowdy, and violent. It got so bad at Philadelphia Eagles games that they set up an official city court within the stadium to immediately charge the evil-doers with a crime.

I hadn't seen behavior this relentlessly aggressive at a Mets game before. I didn't like it. Nope. Didn't like it one bit.

Look, I read Among the Thugs. I know I'm not cut out to be a hooligan.

For this pander, I thought I'd post a photo that's sure to please my straight male and lesbian readership. You straight ladies out there that don't much care for baseball: don't worry your little selves. You'll get your hot dudes the majority of the time.

Early Season Highlights

We're just two games or so into the baseball season, and already there's just so much excitement to report. Here's the B&E Baseball Cheat Sheet:

The Mets had themselves a lovely opening day. Johan Santana pitched brilliantly, and all the right bats got in on the action, showing much promise for the season ahead. In game two, Pedro tweaked a hammy, and Matt Wise had his coming out party as this year's scapegoat. And he's not even a Japanese second baseman!

Older fans of B&E may remember Xady Watch, the weekly rundown on Xavier Nady's success in the Mets right field. Toward the end of the 2006 season, Xady got traded to Pittsburgh, where he's been stuck ever since. But he's still playing every day! And on opening day, Xady hit not one but two home runs, including the game winner in the 12th. It's nice to see Xady in the headlines, particularly for the Pittsburgh Pirates, who've had one hell of a tough time of things in recent years.

Some of you may have heard of Alex Rodriguez, a.k.a. A-Rod, a.k.a. Stray-Rod (when he's caught hitting the town with women other than his wife), a.k.a. Ster-Rod (when linked to Canseco's steroid dealer - and actually I haven't seen that one anywhere, but I figured why the hell not.) Yahoo! News was kind enough to post a little ditty stating that A-Rod is making more money this year than the entire Florida Marlins roster. And yet the Florida Marlins have won more World Series championships (two) than Alex Rodriguez (zero).

President Bush got booed mightily at the Washington Nationals opening day during His Royal Highness's ceremonial first pitch. Nationals Manager (and former Mets third base coach) Manny Acta served as catcher. Manny's a fine bald man who, if you believe Keith Olbermann, is also a left-leaning political junkie who enjoys arguing with the right-leaning members of his coaching staff. I'm assuming that when Manny handed Dubya his ceremonial first ball, he didn't say, "You're a war criminal," but it's nice to know that he might've been thinking it. Keith's video about the boos can be found here.

And because I've promised pandering to the non-baseball B&E readers, I offer you this fine photo of five young, hot shortstops from 1997, four of whom are still playing even. Usually with their shirts on. (Thanks to Deadspin for enjoying homoeroticism in baseball as much as I do.)

Mets Scouting Report 2008! Position Players!

You've been waiting, B&E readers, and I'm now delivering! But will the Mets deliver a World Series victory in their final season at Shea Stadium? Will they even make it to the post-season? Much depends on the non-pitchers, too! Who do we have? What do they do? How do they look? If the picture is any indication, they look like really hot thugs!

Familiar faces! New blood! Keep your eye out for September meltdowns! Check out the starters!

Wright & Reyes!
Affable All-Stars with their best years ahead, or troubled adolescents who stop hitting when it matters most? I'm asking you, Jose!

David speaks English! LoDuca's gone! The press will talk a LOT to David! He might get some important hits, too!

Jose! Jose-Jose-Jose! Jo-se! Jo-se! That's a song you can't hear in print! Jose, you don't have to pretend to have fun when you hit that slump! Just get on base and make shit happen!

The Carloses!
The muscle in the middle of the lineup, or the dead weight dragging down the options of the front office? Depends on whom you ask!

Do better, Beltran! Do better, Delgado! Their play is worth half their salaries! Wait! Nothing is worth half their salaries! They really get paid a lot. A LOT! For the love of all that is good in this world, do better!

Other starters!
Genuine contributors to the cause, or false prophets making falser claims? That doesn't make sense!

Luis Castillo! Second base! Multi-year contract! Bad knees! I'm ready for Anderson "Batman" Hernandez! But I think he's not ready for us!

Brian Schneider! Catcher! An upgrade? From the Nationals? Low expectations guarantee success!

Ryan Church! Right field! Replaces Jewish Shawn Green! Asked his chaplain if Jews are doomed to hell! Chaplain said yes! Chaplain suspended! Church concussed in spring training in karmic retribution! Play ball, righteous one!

Moises Alou! Left field! No, wait! Hurt again! Still!

Endy Chavez! Left field! Fans love the Endy! But wait! He platoons!

Angel Pagan! Left field! His name is a contradiction in terms! Ryan Church is confused!

The backups!
Continued production off the bench, or seat-fillers on Emmy night? The Wire should finally win an Emmy!

Ramon Castro! Perennial backup catcher! Wait! Injured! Raul Casanova! Backup catcher! Look out, ladies! Damion Easley! Functional! Marlon Anderson! Functional! Fernando Tatis! Really?! Fernando Tatis? WTF!

That's the bulk of it, B&E readers/baseball fans!

Fernando Tatis?!

LET'S GO METS!

Mets Scouting Report 2008! Pitching!

Oh, yes, B&E readers! I'm about to hit you full in the face with my 2008 Mets scouting report! You have to indulge me! No pandering to non-baseball fans with pictures of the sexy-sexy for scouting reports! It's the Mets! You get the ace! Johan Santana! Using that change-up to sneak in the back door of your souls!

So what's in store for Mets fans (a.k.a. B&E readers) in 2008?!

Starting pitching!
The best four-and-a-half man rotation in baseball or under-performing tired-out tossers? If last year's any indication, it depends on the month!

The ace! Johan Santana! He replaces Tommy-Gun Glavine! $137.5 million cheap! And he works once every five or six days! I want that job!

Number two! Pedro! No wait! It's John Maine! He's younger! Best spring training in baseball! He's Mr. March! Look out!

Number three! Pedro! He hasn't pitched in a spring training game this year! He's a veteran! Practice is for fags! Bullpen be ready! Minor leaguers be even readier for that early call-up! Pedro! Make your appointment with the doctor now! Great clubhouse guy!

Number four! O Perez! Oh, puh-leeze! You give me agita! Throw strikes!

Number five! El Duque or Mike Pelfrey! Oy!

More pitching!
Best bullpen in the National League or under-performing tired-out tossers? Wait! I used that line for the starters!

Billy Wagner! The closer's even older this year! Heilman! Poor bastard still wants to start! Pedro Feliciano! Not that Pedro! Duaner Sanchez! Dirty's still hurt! Scott Schoewenouewnweiscz! HGH made his name longer! Jorge Sosa! Like Sammy only a pitcher not on the juice! Joe Smith! Don't submarine yourself back to the minors!

Stay tuned for the B&E Scouting Report on the position players!

LET'S GO METS!

Here It Comes!

That right, B&E readers (a.k.a. baseball fans)! We're less than a week from Opening Day! I've been doing very little reporting from this year's spring training, but inside, I've been feeling hope, optimism, and despair--those emotions every Mets fan feels throughout the baseball season.

Let's go, Mets! Let's finalize that tenure at the industrial dump called Shea Stadium with a World Series victory!

Yes, we can! We are the change we've been waiting for!

He's Got Confidence in his Manhood

Mets reliever, Ambiorix Burgos, had $270,000 worth of jewelry stolen from his hotel room in Port St. Lucie. Somehow he got all but $30,000 of it back. Ambiorix is a mediocre relief pitcher (possibly getting better), and I don't think he's making much more than the league minimum. So what the hell is he doing with more than a quarter of a million dollars worth of jewelry in the first place?

Oh, the Love. Yes, the Love

I was a bit busy this week, which kept me from writing a proper Valentine's Day post.

On February 14th...

PITCHERS AND CATCHERS REPORTED TO SPRING TRAINING! Let's go Mets! Save the team, Johan Santana!

Baseball, I've missed you. I love you so.

The Good News of Yesterday

Rudy Giuliani came in a distant third in Florida, and THE METS GOT JOHAN SANTANA! Yes, there's still a deal to be worked out, but specifics shmecifics.

All of you B&E readers (aka baseball fans) are probably surprised and dismayed at my lack of baseball reporting during this off-season. Well, I've been quiet because the Mets have been quiet. I'm not going to spend valuable time reporting about a mediocre catcher and a few fair relievers.

But Johan Santana is news indeed. The Mets will begin the season with a legitimate number one starter, and it feels good, B&E readers, I won't lie.

All of you non-baseball fans out there have had a good break from the baseball story, so no hunky picture today. I barely have time for this post, must less all the searching it would take to find a photo of, say, sexy Rudy Giuliani.

The End of the Mets

What everyone is calling the Mets' "Stunning Meltdown" hasn't affected me as much as it would have if, say, the Mets had somehow deserved to go to the playoffs. But they were the worst team in baseball for the past month, so it would almost seem wrong if they were playing in the postseason.

What does seem wrong, however, is that former Mets second baseman and fan scapegoat Kaz Matsui is playing in the postseason. Mmrrr?

So the Mets sent this email to all of us on their list:

Dear Mets Fan:

All of us at the Mets are bitterly disappointed in failing to achieve our collective goal of building upon last year's success. We did not meet our organization's expectations -- or yours. Everyone at Shea feels the same range of emotions as you -- our loyal fans -- and we know we have let you down. We wanted to thank you for your record-breaking support of our team this year.

Equally important, Ownership will continue its commitment in providing the resources necessary to field a championship team. Omar will be meeting with Ownership shortly to present his plan on addressing our shortcomings so that we can achieve our goal of winning championships in 2008 and beyond.

You deserve better results.

Many thanks again for your record-breaking support.

Mets

I'm not seeing any offer for free tickets there, front office.

Anyway, for all of you lucky non-baseball fans and even luckier non-Mets fans, enjoy Johnny Depp. The missus loves Johnny Depp.

The Mets Collective Blood Type is O-

Anyone who's been paying even remote attention to baseball will know that the Mets are hemorrhaging. They stopped the bleeding on Sunday, only to pick the scab on Monday. They've been bleeding ever since.

The Phillies aren't exactly taking advantage of their golden opportunity, and the Mets are still up by two games with five to play. But if the Mets had even played mediocre baseball this month, they'd have clinched the division two weeks ago.

It's been bad enough that I'm not even trying to watch any games. I did a Mets news blackout over the weekend. It's just bad for my blood pressure.

Ladies and gentlemen (baseball and non-baseball fans alike), enjoy this photo of the most attractive couple in Britain, Matthew MacFadyen and Keeley Hawes:

For You, Virgil

Once again, the Mets have gotten swept by the Phillies.

Or, in non-baseball fans may prefer...

The Boys in Blue can't beat the Scum in Scarlet.


Come on, Mets. Take care of business. Enough screwing around.

An A'Phillies' Heel

In the past month, the Mets have consistently beaten everyone they've played. Except the Phillies.

If you look at the standings, the Phillies are, in fact, the only team that the Mets "have to" beat. The Phils are in second place, chasing the Mets, and the Mets have had a couple of prime opportunities to put the Phillies away. Then the Mets choke.

Last night was no exception. The Phillies won in the 10th inning, thanks to two Mets errors.

I'm not all that worried about the Phillies, because they seem to squander whatever opportunities the Mets hand them, playing sub-par baseball against the worst teams in the league.

Still, it's like that annoying little brother who won't leave the room when his older sister wants to make out with her boyfriend. I would know. I was that little brother.

But I'd be remiss if I didn't point out that my streak continues. I attended Wednesday evening's Mets/Braves contest, which the Mets won 4-3. It was my tenth game of the season, and the Mets have won all ten.

I should really start attending Phillies' games.

A quick note to regular readers of B&E who bleep over the baseball postings:
I'm not above pandering. I will do my best to give you something non-baseball-related to enjoy within my baseball posts. First: Brad Pitt as Achilles.

Ah, to Have Roger Cedeno Out of my Life

It's always bothered me (a lot) that Roger Cedeno held the Mets record for most stolen bases in a season. This is a guy for whom sportswriters created a shortcut key in order to type more efficiently, "Cedeno misplayed a fly ball, resulting in a triple."

Well, Jose Reyes finally swiped enough bases to get Roger out of the Mets' record books. And I couldn't be more pleased about it. Even though the Mets can't seem to beat the Padres.

Ladies (and gay men), enjoy this hunky photo of Professoro Reyes, who first will steal the base and then will steal your heart.

As for me, dear B&E readers, I'm heading out to Shea tomorrow night to see if I can keep my winning streak alive and improve to 9-0 this season. Let's go Mets!

Three Baseball Milestones

In the last week, Alex Rodriguez became the youngest player to hit 500 home runs, Tom Glavine won his 300th game, and Barry Bonds broke Hank Aaron's hallowed home run record.

Because A-Rod and Barry are both jerks, I won't say much more about those guys, except to point out that Barry's record-breaking home run ball was caught by a fella from Queens who was wearing a Jose Reyes jersey. Sweet.

But this 300 wins thing is happening less and less it seems. There's even some speculation that Tommy Gun, the 23rd to join the list of pitchers who accomplished the feat, might be the last to do so.

And I tell you what: when I think about what it takes to win 300 games, my mind gets just a tad blown. You have to win 15 games a year across a span 20 years, or 20 games across 15 years, or any number of other equally impressive math equations.

You've gotta stay healthy, you've gotta play for a team (or teams) that give you run support, and you have to be not only good but one of the best for two-plus decades. And when I think about it like that I don't see how anyone has ever done it. I mean, Cy Young won 511 games, but he was playing primarily against wood nymphs, I think.

Way to go, Tommy Gun. I know that at heart you're an Atlanta Braves man, but I'm happy you've been a Met during the waning years of your career. If you could help them win a World Series this year, you could really retire on a high note.

That Makes Seven-for-Seven

With ninety-five degree weather, delays in the 7 train, passengers packed in like sardines, a lack of AC in the cars resulting in the distinct smell of sweaty balls, and lightning cracking all around Shea, I thought for sure my Mets karma had finally run out.

But David Wright hit a two-run home run in the first inning, and Tom Glavine pitched a one-hitter through five. I didn't think Tommy Gun looked that sharp. He threw a lot of pitches and gave up a couple of hard-hit balls resulting in nice plays in the field.

And then, while I was getting my traditional Carvel hot fudge sundae, the rains came. Lightning, thunder, felled trees, power outages throughout Queens. I got really wet.

But the Mets won. They'd played five. Tommy Gun got win number 297.

My weather karma stinks. My Mets karma remains solid.

Unfortunately, I don't have another game on the books again until August. I might have to do some walk-ups.

Another Epic Battle Between Good and Evil

So I finally did some research about this other New York baseball team I'd been hearing rumors about. Turns out they're called the Yankees. They're not doing so well this season, except during one stretch when they were super-hot. During their hot stretch, the New York Mets were particularly cold.

I also discovered a Mets/Yankees prediction made by Sybil Trelawney (stored in the Department of Mysteries), who said, "Neither can live while the other survives."

My Favorite Former Met

With the emphasis on former...

Two nights ago, legendary Mets closer Armando Benitez (legendary for blowing the most important saves of any given season) and (almost) current closer for the San Francisco Giants balked twice, one balk of which scored the tying run. Armando responded in typical fashion and gave up a dinger to the next batter to lose the game for the Giants.

The Giants traded him to the Florida Marlins the next day. The good news is that he'll be facing the Mets many, many more times. I figure he's got a few games to win for the Mets (now that he'll be facing them more often) to make up for all the ones he lost in the playoffs while playing for them.

If that doesn't make any sense, I blame the coffee sitting in front of me, which I haven't had a chance to drink yet.

It's OK, Buddy

I've discussed Mets fans before. There's a desperation there that occasionally I feel, too. I admit it.

At Tuesday night's game, there was a youngish fella whose life depended upon the outcome.

In the 10th inning, when the Mets went down 1-0, this is what he looked like:


In the 12th inning, after Endy's bunt single won it, he looked like this:


Dude, it's OK. It's one game on a Tuesday night at Shea Stadium. Just one of 162. I'm thrilled they won, too. But it's only April. You're killing yourself.

We're Now a Two-Mets-Cap Household

The missus got us some free tickets to this past Tuesday night's Mets game. I tell you, the missus is a fine woman. And the seats may have been the best I've ever had at Shea. Ten rows from the field about thirty feet behind first base. Carlos Delgado is a large fella.

We were so damned close to the action that the missus' napkin ended up on the field.


I'll limit the talk about the game itself to saying that it was the best game of the year so far, with a come-from-behind victory in 12 innings sparked by some outstanding pitching and a couple of bench players.

We also took my Mets money for a spin. It's been burning a hole in my pocket. Foot-long Nathan's and a big fucking Pepsi in a souvenir cup. Then we dropped by the Mets Clubhouse Shop on the field level.

The missus thinks that Shawn Green's a cutie, so she was considering a #20 ladies jersey. I told her that his wasn't the best jersey in which to invest, as he probably wouldn't be here beyond this season. But she has yet to enjoy the excitement of Jose Reyes in person, and no one wants to be Mrs. Wright yet this season.

Alyssa Milano has a new line of baseball fashion for ladies, but we didn't stop for very long at that rack. You might be surprised to learn that her designs are a bit on the trashy side. The missus is not trashy.

So we focused on caps. There were some decent caps for ladies. And she almost went with a nice light blue number made out of a light cotton. But much to the missus' credit, she said, "But what about the caps that look like what the players wear." I swear to Christ, a tear nearly came to my eye.

For some reason, men's caps are huge. I've mentioned this in a previous (and recent) posting. The missus' head was positively swimming in them.

Then, off to the side, almost hidden from view, we saw it. From the Cooperstown Collection. I assume that means it's a classic design, but it didn't look familiar to me. Granted, I didn't pay much attention to the Mets in the 70s.

Still, this cap is beautiful. I'm almost jealous. I mean, I love my new Official Mets Batting Practice Cap, complete with racing stripe and NASCAR style, but the missus found a hat I've never seen anyone else wear. It's simple and lovely.

It's also adjustable, which means that I can wear it when the missus isn't looking.

Me Likey the Mets Money

In what might be becoming an annual tradition, Ma got me some Mets Money for Christmas. Use it like cash anywhere at Shea Stadium! Thanks again, Ma!

A few weeks ago I "won" a lottery giving me the opportunity to buy tickets to the Mets home opener (the second-to-last home opener at Shea Stadium). So I scheduled a day off from work and lined my pockets with Mets Money, waiting for the moment to arrive. It was this past Monday.

The game was great, etc. Come-from-behind victory and lots of booing on Jimmy Rollins' head. Exciting.

But e'en more exciting was that I used some Mets Money to buy myself my first-ever properly-licensed, not-given-out-for-free-at-the-stadium Mets cap. It was 40-degrees at game time, so I was wearing my pirated knit Mets stocking cap, and the freebie FoxSports Met cap has been long ruined by my sweaty tendencies.

Inside my souvenir stand MasterCard-sponsored gift bag, however, was the most exciting purchase I've ever made at Shea (and more exciting than the Carvel ice cream in souvenir mini-helmet is pretty goddamned exciting): The Official Mets Batting Practice Cap.

I've tried to buy Mets caps before. But the official caps have always been too square for my head. They look absolutely ridiculous on me. As you can see, this Official Mets Batting Practice Cap has a rounded top. It lays nicely over my bald dome.

Plus, the Official Mets Batting Practice Cap is kind of tacky. Note the orange racing stripe and the black stretchy material above the ear. It gives it a sort of NASCAR feel. Most of the other people wearing this cap at Shea on opening day were giant Italian dudes. I like fitting in with the giant Italian dudes.

During spring training I read an article about how some of the players hate the newly designed Official Mets Batting Practice Caps. This is another reason I like it. It's controversial. Like Imus only not racist.

But perhaps the biggest reason to love my Official Mets Batting Practice Cap is its technology. It wicks sweat away from one's head. As I mentioned, it was sweat that ruined my freebie cap. I'm a sweater. No denying it. It might be snowing at the beginning of this baseball season, but eventually, it will be nearly 100-degrees, and I'm gonna need help keeping my poor, bald head dry. My white-trash Official Mets Batting Practice Cap will do that for me.

I wear a cap of some sort every day (I have to protect my tender scalp from the sun during my walk across the Brooklyn Bridge). And I've been working at the new job since the end of September. In the cooler weather, I've been wearing a Scottish tartan wool golfing cap or a stocking cap to protect my ears.

So yesterday, when I put on my Official Mets Batting Practice Cap to leave for the day, the response I got from coworkers was, "You don't wear baseball caps!"

Oh, colleagues. I don't just wear baseball caps. I wear the Official Mets Batting Practice Cap.

Mets Scouting Report! Position Players!

Hello again, B&E Readers/Mets fans! The past 36 hours or so have been brutal, I'm sure! The suspense! The anticipation! The questions! "What about the bats?" "What about the gloves?" "What might the lineup look like?" "Tell us, Mr. B&E!" But that last one's not a question!

The powerful offense from last year is back! And only one year older! What could possibly go wrong?

Willie might be mixing up the lineup! Then again, maybe he won't! He reads Judy Blume!

The Marquee Names!
The cornerstones of a franchise, or flashy overpaid anvils weighing down the options of the front office? We lob it in, you hit it out of the park!

Wright & Reyes! I believe the children are our future! Still young! Still exuberant! They're the left side of the infield for the next many years! They like each other a lot! They wear pink! I'm not implying anything!

Carlos & Carlos! Beltran rebounded last year! Continue the good work! But this time, hit over .300! Delgado and his wife had a baby! He named him Carlos! After Beltran!

The Other Starters!
Solid support system good for a few runs, or mediocrity masquerading as "the team to beat"? We share, you care!

Paul LoDuca! Catcher! Gambler! All-Star! Would be the best player on many other teams!

Moises Alou! Left Field! Old! Replaced Clifford Motherfuckin' Floyd! A gamble? Ask LoDuca!

Shawn Green! Right Field! He's a has-been! He's a still-can! He's a Jew!

Jose Valentin! Second Base! Played there all of last year, and I still can't believe it!

The Remainders!
Excellent emergency fill-ins, or rally-killers biding their time on the bench? We don't know, and you don't either!

Lastings Milledge! Great name! Bad attitude! Better attitude this spring! Won his roster spot by playing well and not being a jerk! Could replace Green or Alou in the outfield if one them stinks like my drunken uncle!

Julio Franco! Grandpa! Endy Chavez! Great catch against the Cards! David Newhan! His dad's a sportswriter! Ramon Castro! Perennial backup catcher! Damion Easley! Who dat?

Tomorrow's the day, B&E readers! Mets vs. Cards! Rematch of last year's NLCS! Only less meaningful!

LET'S GO METS!

Mets Scouting Report! Pitching!

Greetings, B&E readers, or "Mets fans," as I like to call you these days!

That's right! Opening Day is nearly here! And I'm sure you've been asking yourself: "How will the Mets fare this year? Where the hell is the official B&E scouting report?"

It's right the hell here, Mets fans!

Only 162 games until post-season!

Pitching!
Experienced Veterans Ready to Lead, or Broken-down Old Farts in Adult Diapers? We report, you decide!

Number-One Starter! Tom "Tommy Gun" Glavine! He felt numbness in his fingertips last season! What will it be this season? A stroke? At 75-years-young he's a cantankerous wannabe hockey player, so watch for the high stick as he ekes his way toward win number 300!

Number-Two Starter! Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez! He claims he's 41! But he's Cuban, so who the fuck knows? Either way, he's got arthritis in this neck! And yet, with that high kick, his hammies are ready for duty!

More pitching!
Youthful Exuberance Ready to Unleash Its Power, or Yellow Rubes Without the Sense of a Goat? We say it, you spray it!

Number-Three Starter! John Maine! Like the state! And sunken battleship! He'll win 25 games and a Cy Young Award! Or maybe he'll suffer from the Sophomore Slump! It's possible he'll be exactly average! That covers everything!

Number-Four Starter! O-As-In-O-My-Lord Perez! He's a head case! He's got wicked stuff! He's a head case! He's got wicked stuff! Make up your mind! He's a head case with wicked stuff! Keep your eye out for the yips!

Number-Five Starter! Mike "Bats in the" Pelfrey! He's ready for prime time! He needs time to mature! Mature fast, Mikey! You're on! And keep that fastball down in the strike zone!

Even more pitching!
The Most Reliable and Durable Bullpen in Baseball, or Fragile Former Starters With Bruised Egos? We heard it, you repeat it!

Billy Wagner! Lefty power losing power! Aaron Heilman! Elbow tendinitis! Duaner Sanchez! D.L.! Chan Ho Park! Korean! Pedro Feliciano! Sultry vocals! Aaron Sele! Old! Joe Smith! Poor man's Chad Bradford! Guillermo Mota! Suspended 50 games for steroids! Scott Schoeweneweis! Third behind Grudzielanek and Mientkiewicz for hardest last name! Ambiorix Something! Cut me some slack! I remembered Ambiorix!

And Pedro! What about Pedro! We'll get one great game out of him in August! Great clubhouse guy!

Stay tuned for the scouting report on the position players!

LET'S GO METS!

The Off-Season

You may think there's less to say about baseball when they're not playing the game, but you would be sorely mistaken. The off-season is time for politicking, deal-making, and free-agency. And while following the minutae of contract negotiations might not be as outwardly interesting as the instant gratification of a 450-foot home run, watching the moneymen of baseball go head-to-head has its moments. Agents and players vs. general managers and owners. Assholes across the board. Let the games begin!

The Mets appear to be the big losers this off-season, failing to sign any of the marquee pitchers on the market. Most recently, Barry Zito opted to sign with the San Francisco Giants, even though the Mets were considered front-runners.

There's a stupid headline from the AP today: "Zito Picks the Giants by Instinct." Maybe I'm not an expert on the nuances of free-agency, but I have a feeling that Zito picked the Giants because they offered $50 million more than the Mets, and $27 million more than the next highest offer (which came from the unfortunate Rangers).

My predictions on pitchers have always been terrible. A few years ago, when the Mets traded Rick Reed (who?), I have a vague memory of telling someone, "Boy, that's a huge mistake. I have a feeling he's got a Cy Young Award in his future yet." And last year, I went crazy when the Mets dumped Jae Seo for some mediocre relief pitching. Seo then spent most of his year struggling, while the Mets' bullpen carried them through the season. And while I was correct in being angry about the Scott-Kazmir-for-Victor-Zambrano trade, even retarded monkeys knew that was a bad idea. Somehow the Mets front office were the only ones to screw that up.

So let's just admit right now that, really, no baseball team should leave its pitching decisions to me. I'm a terrible forecaster of pitching prospects.

That said, here are my thoughts on this off-season and some predictions and advice for the next:

- Zito's overrated, and the Mets were right to offer him less than his ridiculous market value.

- Jeff Suppan was a good pass, too. I don't want any right-wing, anti-stem-cell-research motherfuckers pitching in New York.

- Trading Brian Bannister to Kansas City was a mistake. He's going to have a 3.50 ERA for the Royals. But because they're the Royals, he'll also lose 20 games.

- The Mets still have Tommy-Gun Glavine, John Maine (another of my mis-predicted successful trades), and Mike Pelfrey in their rotation. John and Mike will have banner years, each winning 20 games.

- Pedro might be done. He'll return, have a couple of promising starts, and hurt himself again. Then he'll be relegated to being That Great Clubhouse Guy everyone loves.

- Omar Minaya should trade Lastings Milledge and a shitload of cash for Scott Kazmir. Lastings is a hack with a bad attitude. And the only way to shut up the fans and the press about letting Kazmir go is to get him back.

- Aaron Heilman? How about a legitimate shot for a spot in the rotation, for crying out loud?

- Raising ticket prices at Shea was a dicky thing to do, especially since the Mets didn't win the World Series.

We've got about six weeks before pitchers and catchers report to spring training. I'm ready. The Mets Money I got for Christmas is burning a hole in my pocket.

What About Endy?

About a week ago, the Huffington Post alerted me to this article. To summarize, after his almost assured re-election, President Hugo Chavez might decide to restrict the rights of talented Venezuelans who want to play baseball in the US. "Das ist verboten!" Hugo says, although he says it in Spanish.

Oh, Hugo. Overall, you rate positively here at B&E. But my most recent previous post about you covered the weird sulphur smell comments you made at the UN, and now this. If you keep Endy Chavez from returning to the Mets, I might just have to name you Dickhead of the Week.

One other little thing about the article. The British are so cute when they talk about baseball. They say the most popular Venezuelan baseball player is Bob Abreu. Heh. Bob. Does anyone call him Bob? And is he really that popular?

It's Over

Those of you paying a visit this morning will notice another live blog. Blogger was behaving a little strangely, occasionally posting entries out of order, but if you want to relive last night's amazing-game-with-the-terrible-outcome, read below. If you want to follow it in the order of the actual game, go to the bottom of yesterday's posts.

And be sure to check out the Virgil link to the right. He was doing his own live-blog. And occasionally cracking himself up throughout the game. Ad man was feeling a little lonely in the company of our clacking keyboards. Sorry, ad man.

I'm still in pain today. There is no joy in Sunnyside. But at least now I can go back to watching baseball as a detached observer.

Bottom of the 9th

Somehow I'm able to laugh at Tommy Lasorda still. But I'm dead on the inside.

Adam Wainwright is pitching vs. Valentin.

I'm feeling terrible for Heilman. He's been great.

Man, I can't take this shit. Valentin singles. Oh, man, I can't take it. Is that a glimmer of hope I smell?

Now Endy Chavez. (And Clifford "Motherfuckin" Floyd on deck. Me likey.) And Endy singles, too. Oh, my God. Fuck me. This is exceptionally stressful. And I don't know if I can't take it.

Clifford batting. Sore Achilles' heel and all. I can't take it. Cliff swings for the fences and misses. I can't take it. Come on, Clifford. Molina tries to throw behind to Chavez, but Endy's safe. Come on, Clifford. And Clifford lets a beautiful curve ball go by. Man, no doubt. Clifford got outpitched.

Reyes. Jesus, I can't take this. Reyes hit it hard but too close to Edmonds, who doesn't make any goddamn mistakes.

Lo Duca comes up to "Boogie Shoes." Down to the last out. Come on, Paulie. Fuck. I can't take this. I really can't. I'm feeling flushed. Light-headed. This is just terrible. Holy fucking shit. Paul walks. Bases loaded for Beltran.

Really. I can't take this. It's a fucking cliche of baseball. Bases loaded and two outs? What the hell is going on?

Beltran. This is what he makes $117 million for. Don't fucking blow this. And he blows it. Three strikes. Caught looking with the bases loaded. That's a season's worth of booing there, Beltran.

Fuck. It's over. The Mets lose. Fuck.

Relief, but sadness. Poor Heilman. Goddammit.

That's it. I'm done.

Top of the 9th

Heilman stays in with the score tied. I like that. He's one of the few Mets not killing me. And to confirm my faith in Heilman, he strikes out Edmonds.

They're showing the catch again. Holy shit. I can't get over it either.

That's because Rolen's up and he was the robbee. This time Rolen singles. Aw, damn. I can't fucking take this. Molina hits a home run, and now I'm fucking depressed.

Reyes makes a nice play to get Belliard, but who fucking cares? The Mets are down by two runs. I don't know if I can finish this shit. Shea fans are crying. I'm not there yet, but I'm totally deflated. Pinch-hitter Rodriguez blah blah blah blah. He's out. Mets are down to their final chance.

Mets 1, Cardinals 3

Bottom of the 8th

Come on, boys. I can't take this shit. Blow it wide open. Score some runs, goddammit. You're killing me.

Lead-off walk to Beltran. If you can't get a hit (and they haven't since the 1st damned inning), get on that way. Pitching change. Flores for Suppan. Man, Suppan pitched a great game. He killed me.

They're showing the replay of the Chavez catch again. I still can't fucking believe it. Now that killed me.

Delgado throws his bat at the ball to foul it off. Nice work, Carlos. Stayin' alive. Bee Gees. Carlos couldn't hold up his swing and strikes out. Damn. Now Wright. Man, this is killing me. Heart's racing. Thumping like crazy. Wright went around? I don't think so. Screw you, ump. You're killing me. Man, I'm stressed out. Come on, David. And he strikes out. Son of a bitch. His head was in left field.

And Green grounds out to first. Man, the Mets are fucking killing me.

Mets 1, Cardinals 1

Top of the 8th

I'm eating ice cream now. Homemade by Dana of Cart City Creamery. If she ever offers you ice cream, don't ask any questions. Just eat it. The cream cheese ice cream is outstanding. So is the chocolate, peanut butter, coffee, cookies and cream, dulce de leche, pistacio, maple, Mexican chocolate... Seriously, eat whatever she offers. It's fucking great.

Cornerstone grounds out. Scott Speizio with his annoying red soul patch is batting. I'm calling him Soul Patch from now on. Scratch that. I'm calling him Fuck Face. That soul patch is too annoying. He's a fuck face. And Fuck Face strikes out. They walk Pujols. Smart. Albert has that nasty-ass cold sore. Man, that thing's gross. Get that thing off screen.

And Heilman strikes out Encarnacion. Yahtzee.

Mets 1, Cardinals 1

Bottom of the 7th

Michael Tucker batting for Bradford. He hits a foul ball off his foot. Ouchie wouchie. And he flies out to Edmonds, who never makes a mistake. Reyes grounds out. So does Lo Duca.

It's raining now.

Mets 1, Cardinals 1