Odds & Sods

With a forgettable week for the Mets in the books, we look back with some observations and odd notes I have mused about over the past few days while incapacitated and unable to express these thoughts in this forum.

• This team as a whole is suffering from a serious case of the Blahniks. The balance between the struggling offense and the starting pitching is starting to become dangerously magnified, to the point where it's becoming too much to expect the pitchers to be perfect every time out. The poor outings from Perez and Glavine over the weekend are too much to overcome (although Glavine really had a once-a-year meltdown on Sunday), and right now, the team isn't hitting enough to come back from 6 run deficits.
  

• Nothing rankles me more than losing to the Phillies. Not only because they are the Mets closest rival, but there are some mitigating circumstances that makes me hate them even more. I fear that they may fire their sleepy manager, Charlie Manuel and hire someone who might actually be able to manage that team. But this week was simply unacceptable. Tuesday's extra-inning affair was simply one of those "shit happens" games that will occur a few times a season. Fine. but the losses on Wednesday and Thursday are the ones that really rankle me. Wednesday was the beginning of this carnage. It was bad enough that Heilman basically pulled a Doug Sisk; got himself into a jam, then nearly got out of it before hanging one to Rollins that he simply blasted out for a 3-run HR that changed the game, but then seeing Endy swing out of his shoes before hitting a shot right at Rollins who started a DP that would have happened even if Endy hadn't pulled his hammie coming up the line. That Endy hit into the DP was enough. But Endy getting hurt and landing on the DL at the same time was like pouring salt on an open wound. Head-shaking moment.

• Wednesday was bad enough. Thursday night's affair was so bad that it literally threw me over the edge. You could do a study about my reaction to that game and call it "The Evils of drinking heavily combined with Scott Schoeneweis." I had been busy most of the evening, but I had returned to my office and switched on the game in the bottom of the 9th. Wagner had already blown the save, giving up the game-tying HR to that fine, upstanding gent Pat Burrell. I'd missed the great offensive explosion: 3 HRs in the 6th inning that produced a grand total of...3 runs. The Mets went down in the 9th, with the great #2 hitter Ben Johnson leaving 2 runners on base. Schoeneweis came in. And already knowing that this was a dead ballgame, I began drinking. And drinking some more. And the runs began scoring for Philly. And I switched the game off, and continued to drink. And then, the text messages to El Guapo began...
• "Schoeneweis makes me want to gouge my eyes out"
• "This is Hell's worst misery. What the fuck is going on here?!"
  
• "We are going nowhere. And the bitch of it is this is a better team! THIS IS MADNESS! WHAT THE FUCK!"
• "I love bullpens!"

And so on, and so forth. El Guapo didn't respond, and, really, how could he have? What was left to say?

• And the weekend proved to be no better. A colleague called me on Friday and said to me, "You may as well give the Tigers 3 straight wins, because the Mets ain't doing anything this weekend. The Tigers have to be licking their chops right now." And for the most part, he was right. The only saving grace was Sosa's absolute brilliance on Friday night, shutting down and shutting out the potent Tiger lineup through 8 innings, keeping the game out of the hands of people like Heilman and Schoeneweis, bridging the game to Wagner for the 9th. Still not much offense, but a win is a win. And thank God for that.

• Back to the grind for Saturday and Sunday, as the Mets at least showed some life on offense, but most of their scoring was done after both games were completely out of hand. Kudos to Gomez for his first Major League HR on Sunday, and to Wright for HRing in all 3 games in Detroit. But is it a sign that the Mets bats are actually waking up? Or will it simply be a mirage? Green is due back on Monday, which helps, and I would guess Johnson or Ledee are the most likely candidates to be sent down. With Alou still about a week or so away, it appears that Carlos Gomez will stick around for at least a little while longer (especially given that he is infinitely more valuable even off the bench than the Ledee/Newhan/Johnson types), and probably start until Alou returns.
  

But all was not lost. Some good things did happen during the week.

• Newhan was finally cut, sent down to AAA after Chavez's injury because the Mets needed a real Outfielder in his stead. Although, given that he was replaced on the roster by the equally fearsome bat of Ricky Ledee, I'm not sure if this is necessarily a season-changing move by the club.
  

• Wright appears to be rolling now, having hit HRs in 4 straight games. Of course, since he is the only Met producing consistently on the offensive side, all the HRs in the world may not be enough to save the Mets hide right now.

• Schoeneweis was used in all 3 games in the Philly series (and pitching with his severed hamstring tendon which is unfortunately not a severed head tendon) and was therefore burned out and not used in any of the games in Detroit.

• The last episode of The Sopranos is tonight. Here's my prediction. Paulie Walnuts rats out Tony's whereabouts to Phil Leotardo. They both gang up to go after Tony. They find him, and Phil fires a bullet at him. But just as the bullet is about to strike Tony square in the forehead, Endy Chavez comes leaping in out of nowhere to catch the bullet, and fires it right back at Phil and Paulie, piercing through both of their chests and killing them instantly. And Tony gets on his horse and rides off into the sunset.
  

This is a real guillotine stretch for the Mets, with 6 straight series against teams that made the Postseason last year, including both of the Mets playoff opponents from '06. And as such, it's a pretty bad time to suffer a teamwide power outage. Hopefully, the team can put this week behind it as we move on to La-La Land, and then back home to Chicken Sacrifice Stadium, before matchups against Minnesota, Oakland and the MF Cardinals (and then off to Philly for 3). Hopefully, Maine, Sosa and El Duque can continue on strong and Perez and Glavine get back to basics. Hopefully Delgado, Beltran and Reyes can catch fire all together and put a hurting on these teams.

Hopefully...

At the Precipice of an Enormous Crossroads

*** ATTENTION: Here be Sopranos spoilers ***

We've passed the one-third mark of the season and the Mets, at 35-21, are top dogs in the NL. While the rest of their division looks marginally more competent than last season, it's safe to say that Jimmy Rollins has reconsidered his preseason proclamations. In the meantime, David Wright and Carlos Delgado have shaken off long slumps, Shawn Green and Moises Alou are at least a week or so off, but Jose Valentin is rehabbing, and Carlos Beltran returned to the lineup tonight. That's what a deep bench will do for you, even one that includes David Newhan. As Tony Soprano used to say back in the DiMeo crime family's happier times, business is good.

So good, in fact, that we even get treated to some happy Pedro news today:

Sidelined Mets pitcher Pedro Martinez threw off a pitching mound Tuesday for the first time since he underwent rotator cuff surgery on his right shoulder.

"I was trying to make sure I didn't rush, that I didn't go too hard -- especially on the first 15 throws. But, everything else after that felt like I was right at home," Martinez said.

Martinez threw over 30 pitches off a mound in 90-degree heat at the Mets' training camp facility, in a session that lasted a total of 12 minutes.

Not to rain on the Pedro parade, but Ron Darling made an interesting point in tonight's broadcast: when recovering from an injury you can feel amazing after one session, then be in excruciating pain after the next. You don't know if you're just stressing your scar tissue, or if you've reinjured yourself, so you worry. Pedro has been making bold predictions about coming back and throwing mid-90s. It's tempting to believe every word of this, so I just want to sound a cautionary note. Just a few episodes ago, Tony was shrugging, hey, business is good. Tonight Bobby Baccalieri is dead and Silvio Dante lies unconscious in a hospital, prognosis dire.

The Phils prevailed in extra innings, 4-2. Tom Glavine keeps waiting for that 300th win. Besides the singular pleasure of watching Pat Burrell make one of the dumber baserunning moves I've ever seen (though not the dumbest: I'm looking at you, Timo), there wasn't much to get excited about tonight. A flaccid offense: 0-4 for Delgado, 0-5 for Beltran in his return, 11 runners left on base for the team. Feliciano taking the loss without recording an out.

The Phillies. Those mortadells are number three? This is a home series we need to win. You know I'm serious when I invoke the third person plural. I use it rarely. And make incessant Sopranos references (less rare). The Mets have fattened up on teams outside the division (18-8 outside the NL East). It's time to take the fight back to the division, before interleague effs with everyone's shit.

Up Close and Personal with the Mets

About a month ago, I talked about how I had acquired Field Boxes, and how it was likely that the next time I would sit in seats so good would likely be in Citi Field. But that would not be true, as I, through an associate, had the privilege of once again sitting in the Field level on Friday night, but this time markedly closer. Closer meaning 3 rows behind the Mets dugout. The game against the Diamondbacks was a complete clunker, but the seats were ridiculous. Here's an inside look at the game from my vantage point.


How close were we? Here's home plate.

And here's SNY's Chris Cotter, back on the field tonight after being moved to Studio Anchor duty in favor of Kevin Burkhardt.

Wright and Heilman came out to pose for some pictures with some Little Leaguers. Wright was out of this game with back spasms, and the B-team lineup the Mets threw out on this night was little match for Arizona's Brandon Webb.

LoDuca high-fives all the cops and security guards around the dugout before he runs out to warm up.

The annoying thing about sitting here is the hordes of kids who run up to the front row at any given moment throughout the game, trying to get someone's attention for a ball or an autograph. It's commonplace, but it has to really bother the hell out of the people who paid for these seats.

Julio! Julio stole a base in this game, one of the few Mets highlights.

Willie and the coaches are out for the National Anthem...

...as are Gomez, Green and Newhan...

...and Ollie.


And the Mets take the field!


As Maine warms up. I can't identify the music that Maine uses when he's pitching. I know that Glavine uses Guns N' Roses Sweet Child O' Mine, and Oliver Perez comes out to Bizarre's I'm Gonna Get You (which I'm sure he didn't pick himself). Maine comes out to some generic-sounding hard rock song that I believe could be a rock cover of Kamikaze. Anyone know the song?

And, the first pitch.

Reyes, shows his form in laying down the bunt in the last of the 1st. It rolled foul.

Hi, Jose!

Good shot of Maine's form on the mound.

And Franco at the plate in the 2nd.

This is what I like about Maine. Maine has been pitching with a chip on his shoulder all year, and I think that's why he's done so well. Every inning, he comes off the mound with a scowl. He's just retired the side in order, but he's pissed. And he should be. He pitched well enough to win, but one mistake—Snyder's HR in the 5th—spelled his doom.

More Maine.

We're on Oliver Perez's side of the dugout, it seems.

7th inning stretch, and here's Mr. Met! The kids are going nuts. It's Greek night, and we're being treated to "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" played on the Bozouki.

I'm in the 3rd row, but I still can't catch a ball, and I still don't get a shirt.

More Mr. Met.

Mota, just before he annihilated the game in the 8th.

But the coolest moment of the game by far came when Oliver Perez turned around and looked around the stands. I caught his eye and pointed at him. He smiled and flashed me the peace sign. I flashed the peace sign back. That's my new Best Friend, Oliver Perez.

Balkoff Walkoff

I know I'm a day late in posting this, but Tuesday Night's game does indeed bear special mention, and not only because El Guapo and I were in the stands for this one. Tuesday night's game was one of those games that simply defies all explanation, harrowing at times, miserable at others, but scintillating at the end.

And it was indeed the end that everyone will remember. What Benitez did can't simply be described as a Blown Save. El Guapo and I were discussing this on the way down the ramps following the game. This was a full scale Nuclear Meltdown (and not as in Nuke LaLoosh). I mean, this is the kind of blown save that you might actually have to sit awake in bed for a few nights and plan out (Note: And subsequently, it would be Benitez's final indignity in a Giants uniform, he was dealt to Florida Thursday Night). It was bad enough that he committed two balks to allow the tying run to score. No, that wasn't good enough. Armando then subsequently grooved a meatball to Delgado on 2-2 and Carlos absolutely unloaded on it, deep into the night, off the base of the scoreboard and ensuring that I would not have a voice for the next day.

This was the kind of game that I'd been missing this season, after seeing so many like it in 2006. That championship-quality, logic defying game that you look back on in 5 years or so and write a blog about it because everyone forgot it except the diehards.

It was another good outing for Perez, despite his rocky start. A leadoff HR from Randy Winn and a subsequent HR by one of the accursed Molina brothers put the Mets in an early hole. But unlike in previous starts, where Oliver might have become unglued and melted down, he instead buckled down and persevered. Following Molina's HR, Oliver would retire 14 batters in a row, and 18 of 19, not allowing another run until a solo HR by Daniel Ortmeier in the 7th inning.

And it's fortunate that Perez was on top of his game, because apparently all the talk surrounding Giants Phenom Tim Lincecum is well justified. Lincecum came out throwing darts at the Mets, who, the first time through the order, looked thoroughly baffled. Not to belabor the point, this guy is GOOD. He came out throwing 96 MPH, and got his fastball cranking up to 99 at times, mixed in with a hard curve and a Low-80s change. And his delivery is such that the ball can be tough to pick up. And, as per usual, the Mets tend to struggle against pitchers like this (Earlier in the afternoon, a co-worker asked me "So how many hits will the Mets get tonight? 2? 3? You know they're not scoring any runs!).

Lincecum retired the first 11 Mets in a row, and there didn't seem to be any reason to think that would change, but he suddenly walked Beltran with 2 out and nobody on in the 4th. He threw over to first a couple of times, and I mused that he was probably paying too much attention to Beltran and not enough to Delgado at the plate. Sure enough, Delgado whacked the next pitch way out, off the Pepsi sign on the scoreboard. Tie game, just like that. But Lincecum settled right back down after that and struck out the side in the 5th. A Reyes single and a Beltran double in the corner gave the Mets a temporary lead in the 6th, before the aforementioned Ortmeier HR in the 7th re-tied the game.

And so it went, into the 8th, into the night, and into the bullpens. The Mets kept mounting opportunities. Wright hit a shot to right in the 9th that looked for all the world to be out of the park. But no. It hit the top of the wall, and just bounced back. Fortunate for the Giants, because with 2 out, Franco hit a smash up the middle that Vizquel (who still gets the job done despite being as old as Franco) just barely was able to knock down and toss to second to get the force and end the inning.

And into extra innings we went. El Guapo was half asleep by this point. I was beside myself because, once again, Willie went and brought in Schoeneweis, who did just about everything he possibly could to blow the game. First, throwing four wide to Bonds, who was pinch-hitting (and it was truly lovely listening to the "BARRY SUCKS! BARRY SUCKS!" chant echoing throughout the stadium), and then allowing a ringing double by Frandsen that fortunately hopped into the stands, because even Bonds on his no knees could have scored on it. Heilman came in and mercifully stopped the rally.

The 11th was quiet. The 12th was anything but.

Joe Smith came on for the Mets. Finally, a decent reliever, I think. But Smith walked Vizquel and wild pitched him to 2nd. Then a sacrifice. Then he hit Sweeney. Meltdown. Winn chopped one to Delgado, who, I believe, made the right play by stepping on first, then throwing home. Given the position of where the ball was hit, and where Delgado was, Delgado barely even had to move to step on the base. And his throw home was true, but LoDuca didn't quite get the tag down. I say that after having seen the replay; from where I was sitting, he was out, dammit! Look at LoDuca's face! Would you want to argue with him?

But we knew what was coming up. And for as loudly as Bonds was booed, Armando was booed even louder when he came in for the last of the 12th. You could see him sweating, even from the upper deck. He went 3-0 on Reyes, and the crowd was all over him. But he rebounded, getting Reyes to foul off a couple of fastballs, before finally walking him. And you knew at that moment that he was screwed. But he was just getting started.

First, with Chavez squaring around, Benitez balked. And then he got upset. He started yelling and pointing, and gesticulating. The crowd was screaming. Chavez got the bunt down, moving Reyes to 3rd. But Armando, amazingly, held firm. He got Beltran to chop one right at his 2nd baseman, and with the infield drawn in, Reyes had to hold 3rd. And he was one out away. And with Delgado up, the infield pulled into their overshift.

But that just invited more trouble with Reyes on third. As Delgado dug in, you could see Reyes inching further and further down the line. By the time anyone noticed, Reyes was halfway home. And then Benitez flinched, looked up, and the crowd went berserk as the second balk was called and Reyes trotted home with the tying run.

And yet, the Meltdown still wasn't complete. But it was. Everyone in the stadium knew it. Armando did it again. He dug his own hole. Totally screwed. And it was only a matter of time before he finally threw that last fastball into his own coffin.

The crowd at the game was announced at 47,940. I would have to guess that most of the tickets sold were the residuals from all the Opener Packs that had been bought. I don't think there were 47,940 at the game, and by the time the game ended, there didn't look to be much more than 20,000 people in the stadium. But somehow, fans seemed to materialize after the game. The Subway ride back into the city was jammed and mirthful following a scintillating win, one that I'd been waiting for all season.

Hello, Barry

It's Tuesday and Thursday night Ballclub this week at Shea. And with the Giants coming in to town, controversy is abound with the annual Barry Bonds appearance in New York. It's already known that Bonds won't play Tuesday, but I suppose he will on Wednesday and Thursday. It makes some sense, sit Barry against lefty Perez, play him against Glavine, who he has had success against (including a HR earlier this month in SF) and against El Duque on Thursday. A few weeks ago, I was intrigued as Bonds sat on 745 HRs, a mere 10 shy of Aaron's record, and with an unconscious couple of weeks, Bonds could conceivably have come in to this series close to or at the record. He slumped, and he won't come close this week. At least, not at Shea, where he has had spotty success in the past (112 games, 413 ABs, only 13 HRs and 60 RBIs, 72 walks and 66 Ks).

I have seen Bonds many times over the years, going back to his Pittsburgh days, when he was a shell of the man he is today. I know many people come out in droves to see him and the spectacle that he is. I've become somewhat desensitized to him over the years. I'll still boo him, though.

I'll boo, but not because of the Steroid business. Whether or not he did steroids is fairly academic to me, although the evidence is pretty well stacked against him. I have, over the years, grown tired of hearing about it all, because nobody produces any sort of ironclad proof, and the testing system is inherently flawed, mainly because Selig has no Yarbles, and the Players Union is far too strong to allow invasive testing. The whole business has carried on, for the most part, as a media creation (and the creation of people with far too much free time on their hands, as evidenced here). The fact is, yes, the integrity of the game has been compromised by players juicing themselves up to hit more HRs, but the reality of the situation is that Selig and the Owners allowed it to happen. Sure. A rule banning the use of steroids was put in place in 1991. But there was no testing put in place to back it up. Players used it all the time, free of the fear of getting caught. I'd go so far as to say that it was a complete conspiracy to freely allow the use of Steroids following the strike in 1994, when Baseball severely needed to regain fans and popularity. It was the easiest thing in the world to create a chase for the single-season HR record, fueled by two eminently likeable figures, McGwire and Sosa. But Bonds ruined it all. Because although Bonds may have only been a Steroid user for 7 or 8 years, he's been a Jerk for his entire career. So what did he do? He went out and broke the season HR record himself, and kept on going, and now, he's going to pass Aaron's career HR record. And for years, all this went on as a blind eye was turned to the fact that these guys were shooting themselves full of whatever amphetamine or horomone they could get their hands on. And by the time people caught on and a softball testing system was put into place, it was far too late. So, feel free to blame Barry, boo him, throw needles at him, whatever. He's just another cog in the system. It's not his fault that MLB allowed him to get away with this.

I'll boo Barry. I'll boo him because he's a First Class A-Hole. That's why we should boo Barry.