As per the 7-pack I purchased during the Winter, I have ended up with tickets to tonight's game against Arizona. It just so happens that I'm the lucky recipient of tickets to a game where the already struggling and power-impotent Mets get to send one of their lesser pitchers, Mike Pelfrey, to the mound against one of Baseball's Best in Brandon Webb.
This is actually the fourth straight year I've been to a Mets/DBacks matchup. That's no great shakes. But what is an odd coincidence is that this is the third year in a row that I'm going to a Mets/DBacks game that was started by Brandon Webb (the one that wasn't, in 2005, however, did involve Pedro and the Shea Sprinklers). Webb, clearly on top of his game now, did a pretty good job of shoving the Mets bats up their asses the previous two times I've seen him pitch. Two years ago, this game fell in the midst of a stretch in which every game I attended was an absolute classic. This particular game followed suit, as Webb and Pedro threw zeros at each other all night, until Endy won the game in the 13th.
Last year wasn't quite as good, although as you can see here, I had a nice view of it.
This year, lord only knows. I'm not exactly looking forward to the game. In fact, if I didn't already have these tickets, I probably wouldn't even be going. There are, in fact, people who have told me to just eat the tickets and save my time. True, there are better and more interesting things I could be doing rather than watching the Mets predictably get pounded into submission. Sitting at home gloomily masturbating might be a more productive use of my time. I'm a little torn. Go to the game? Do something else? I've been spending my morning thinking of reasons I should go. At least the weather is supposed to be nicer than it's been. Maybe Pelfrey will throw a No-Hitter. It's Jose Reyes' Birthday, I should celebrate with him.
Or should I just scream?