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.

50 Years in Cards: 1974

Part 13 of our 50-year Moustache Growth...

What is it: 1974 Topps #8, George Theodore

What makes it interesting: I had a hard time picking a suitable card from '74, mostly a lost season for the Mets following the "Ya Gotta Believe" run in '73. I arrived at George "The Stork" Theodore primarily for the cult following Theodore and this particular card seem to have.

In addition to Theodore being a generally offbeat sort of character who just happened to play baseball (Bud Harrelson once said of George, "He looks like he was put together by committee,") Theodore's lone Baseball card is rather unique, as cards go. Many of the '74 cards have little pictures on the back with a fun fact about the player (Tom Seaver "Enjoys playing Bridge," Cleon Jones "ran 100 yd dash in 9.7 seconds in high school," and John Milner "has hit some of the longest homers in Shea Stadium history" to name a few). The best thing anyone could come up with on George Theodore is that he "Likes marshmallow milk shakes." For some reason, this seems so fitting for him.

Theodore was of limited ability as a ballplayer, and had a penchant for getting hurt more often than not. His playing career was mostly short-circuited by a violent outfield collision with Don Hahn in '73 that left him with a dislocated hip. His playing career lasted all of two seasons, both with the Mets, where you could count his career totals in Home Runs AND RBIs on your fingers and toes. Nonetheless, because he was so unique in stature, so gangly and miscast on the field, with his aviator glasses and mutant sideburns, and so quotable in philosophy, Theodore became one of the more beloved figures in Mets history, one of the many odd sort of characters that Mets history seems to be dotted with.

Card Back:

SHOWDOWN!!

It's now the 16th year of Interleague Play and the 16th year of the Mets/Yankees Subway Series matchups. Every year it seems like it sort of sneaks up on you and then, boom, here it is and you're thinking "Subway Series already?"

At the moment, it appears I won't be going to any Subway Series games this year. I didn't go to any last year, either. The only other year I missed before that was in 2003. That was by accident and poor scheduling. The past couple of years, it's mostly been by choice.

It's somewhat stressful going to these games, dealing with a bipartisan crowd that includes many fans of a team I loathe, yelling and cheering and whooping it up, holding their Pregame chicken sacrifice or whatever their bleacher bums like to do. The years that I've gone and the Mets have won, it's been great. When the Mets have lost, it's been pure, unadulterated hell.

Back in the days of the old stadiums, these games were particularly intense, to the point where I'd been known to yell myself hoarse by the national anthem (TAKE YOUR HAT OFF!!). Since Citi Field has opened, the feelings have been somewhat reduced, probably because the Mets were lousy. Or tired. Or both. I haven't been to a game at the new Yankees Stadium, and I may never go there, so I don't know what it's like over there. My guess is it's probably mostly unbearable. I don't wish to find out.

Apparently, I'm not the only one who feels that the Subway Series is beginning to get a little stale. I was told or maybe I heard it on WFAN, that plenty of tickets, good seats in fact, are very much still available for all games. But I just can't seem to muster up the enthusiasm to fork over $50 a seat for this. Opening Day is a different story. This is sort of like an exercise in torture or some sort of demented psychological experiment Bud Selig is trying to pull. I'm not sure. But I feel like for sanity's sake, I may as well just watch at home. I think many others agree with me, if as many tickets are available as I'm led to believe. I guess we'll all have some idea as to what the story is come tonight.

Really Awesome

Once again, at a particular moment when the Mets needed a solid pitching performance to lead them to victory, R.A. Dickey answered the call and delivered the goods.

Not to belabor the point, but this is what he's been doing all season long.

In a season where the Mets have basically been giving everyone a nice kick in the ass, R.A. Dickey seems to have emerged as the head ass-kicker. His journey to get to this point already well-documented, he now is the Major League leader in Wins after his solid effort this afternoon. Who the hell thought that was going to happen?

Shortly after Opening Day, I bought a copy of Dickey's new book, "Wherever I Wind Up." Among the more compelling sub-stories I found in his tale (I haven't said much of the book, my brief review would be that it's a good book and a quick read, a must for any Mets fan, or anyone who has been a fan of Dickey's. A bit melodramatic at times, but then, that just seems to be Dickey's style of writing so it works.) was how he learned the Knuckleball. Something that began mostly as a forcible suggestion by Texas Rangers management took on a life of its own. Not only did Dickey learn the Knuckleball, he studied it. He picked the brains of multiple Knuckleballers. He grew as a Knuckleballer, and eventually, he managed to find success with it. And now, he's begun to reinvent the Knuckleball. He can add a little juice to it and slip it past hitters. He can take something off and "Bugs Bunny" the pitch at 59mph. Whatever he's doing, he's doing it well enough to keep hitters constantly off balance. The results of his quest have, to this point, been an overwhelming success. Upon his arrival with the Mets, nobody gave him much thought. Little more than another ship passing through town. I myself predicted he'd give up 7 runs in 2.2 innings in his first start and be gone before anyone noticed.

It's over 2 years later, and he's not only still here, he's not only exceeded anyone's expectations, and now, he's on top of his game. He's the guy we find ourselves wanting out there when victory is needed. He's the guy who's delivered solid start after solid start, winning effort after winning effort. His story is emblematic of these Mets: "Quit" does not exist in their vocabulary. And that's why he leads the Major Leagues in wins, he's threatening the Mets all-time consecutive scoreless innings streak, and he's going to be rewarded with his first trip to the All Star game in a month or so. In a year that's been full of surprises for the Mets, why not?

Yeesh...

I know that over the course of a season, every team has "games like that," where nothing seems to go right. But last night for the Mets in Washington was such a ridiculous performance that by the time things ended, the game had dissolved into one of those idiotic farce games that I'm so fond of, replete with the Mets blowing a pair of extra inning leads and ultimately frittering the game away.

This, despite some pitching efforts that bordered on the Heroic.

I sometimes wonder, in the aftermath of games like this, if it wouldn't just be easier if the Mets just faded out and lost the game in normal fashion. It would have been perfectly acceptable to say that Jordan Zimmerman shut the Mets down 3-0, they couldn't figure him out, etc etc. Chris Young came back from his shoulder injury, acquitted himself just fine over his 5 innings, didn't get much help from his defense, and lost.

But, these Mets don't know how to quit. So, they came back on Zimmermann and ultimately took the lead in the 8th inning. It was shades I the last series in Philly. The Mets seemed primed to pull off yet another in a season of improbable comeback victories. But, then, the Mets defense took over and ultimately submarines this effort. The pitchers gave up the hits, yes, but they also made the necessary pitches to get the Nationals out, only to see certain defenders kick, boot and ultimately fumble away a game that they could conceivably have won on three separate occasions.

Not that the bullpen has been especially stellar, and in the end it was Elvin Ramirez contributing to his own undoing when he walked the opposing pitcher in the 12th (in spite of Detwiler basically handing him a strikeout, bunting away a pair of balls way out of the strike zone), but if there was any justice, Bobby Parnell would have gotten a Save and a Purple Heart for the crap he had to endure just to get through the 10th. This is, of course, when the game began to get completely stupid. It was bad enough that Jordany Valdespin, miscast at Shortstop through the machinations of the game, booting an easy grounder to kick off the show. If that wasn't bad enough, Ike Davis followed that up by gagging on an easy DP ball. And a few batters later, Valdespin earned his first Blown Save by yakking on a second grounder that should have been a DP, instead allowing the tying run to score and putting the winning run on 3rd with 1 out. Somehow, Parnell managed to escape from this, probably because he wised up and struck out the next two hitters rather than letting them hit the ball and hoping for the best. If you were keeping score, Parnell essentially got 8 outs in the 10th, but only got credit for 3. Oy vey.

The rest of the game, you already know what happened. And yet somehow Ramirez was a Pitch away from escaping the 12th. Can you imagine what would have happened if this game had continued? I'd guess there would have been another blown lead, probably a ball bouncing off of Vinny Rottino's head, and maybe Kirk Nieuwenhuis coming in to pitch before Danny Espinosa's inevitable walkoff grand slam...oh, wait, that happened 3 years ago. Never mind.

Probably better it ended where it did. Hopefully the Mets got this out of their system.