Oy Vey

And after all I said Friday about being over the Subway Series, the Mets then went out this weekend and pretty much proved me right. As I've said many times over, if you play like assholes, you're going to look like assholes, and the Mets certainly managed to accomplish that.

It's a damn good thing I didn't go to any of the games this weekend. I'm sure I would have gotten smacked with a chicken or something similar, particularly after Friday night's debacle. I didn't see much of Friday's game, which I suppose is a small victory. I watched a few moments, which involved the Yankees hitting a Home Run, hitting another Home Run, and then I shut it off right before another Home Run. I certainly picked my spots. The rest of the night was spent fielding text messages from friends, many of whom wouldn't know a Baseball if it hit them in the face, yet root for the Yankees because, hey, that's what people who don't pay attention tend to do, saying things like, "HEY, AT LEAST HE'S GOT A NO HITTER, HAR HAR HAR!!!"

I probably should have known there, when the Mets couldn't generate anything against noodle-armed Hiroki Kuroda, who I only remember crying out on the Shea Stadium mound a few years ago, that they were pretty much fucked.

Nonetheless, I plodded on and watched most of Saturday's game and all of Sunday's game, sitting through one forgettable game after another. Saturday night, the Mets were short-circuited by not being able to generate enough offense to offset Dillon Gee's one bad pitch. Sunday, the Mets were short-circuited by not being able to generate enough offense to offset Jonathon Niese's one bad pitch, and in both instances, the bullpen was there to dig the Mets a deeper hole. And, of course, the result is that the Mets, who have survived and thrived to this point in the season on their ability to get key hits in big spots and grind out wins, finally had the law of averages go against them at the worst possible time, ending in a sweep that was both embarrassing and infuriating to have to be subjected to.

I've talked, in the past (don't ask me to link back because I can't remember when I said it, just humor me here) about sometimes having a premonition about the Mets being in a dead ballgame. Once the Mets didn't take the lead against Rafael Soriano in the 9th on Sunday, after being aided by a rare hit from Ike Davis to tie up the game, they were going to lose. I knew they were going to lose. At least this time, it ended quick. Francisco Cervelli or Russell Martin or whoever was catching for the Yankees (they're all basically a bunch of low-rent Paul LoDuca's) hit his walk off Home Run in the 9th instead of making me stick around to the 12th.

I suppose the talk is that with this new realignment, the Mets and Yankees may only be playing 3 times a season, rather than their usual 6. At this point, I'm fine with it. I'm fine with not playing the Yankees at all for a few seasons, if it has to come down to that. It really doesn't bother me. Let them go play Philly 6 times a year, or better yet, let them go beat up on the Marlins. But I've had enough with the Subway Series. It's bad enough having to be a Mets fan this season, with this exciting start, and this trepidatious journey of "how long can they keep this up?" I really don't need the added aggravation of being swept by the Yankees and being subjected to the cat calls from their fans to remind me that the odds are against the Mets.