A Clockwork Knuckleball

That old recipe for success that's worked for the Mets all season worked once again this afternoon. R.A. Dickey pitched, I had the game on the radio in my office, and the Mets won the game.

I've lost count as to exactly how many times this has worked, and the last couple of times the Mets played a weekday day game, things didn't work out well for them, but Dickey wasn't on the mound in those games. More often than not, they've won the Weekday Afternoon special, and when Dickey's been on the mound in those games, it seems victory is a mortal lock.

As is usually the case when the game is on in my office, however, I don't often have the time to pay attention to every detail. In fact, I've been known to miss chunks of game completely if I have to go on an errand or some such nonsense. Today, I didn't even click the radio on until the 3rd inning, just in time to hear Adam Wainwright hit a Home Run off Dickey, putting the Cardinals on the board. As usual, I have to pay attention to vocal inflections to determine when something important is going on, and for a good while, I didn't hear much, except for that Ike Davis Home Run. Business took me out of the office for a few minutes around the 7th inning, so I missed Dickey's departure, but even the end of the game appeared to be rather benign, as I'd sort of glossed over what was going on, until I heard Howie say, "And that's the strangest 'Put it in the Books' I've ever made," or something to that effect. Apparently whoever was on base for the Cardinals had rounded 2nd base on a fly out, and then didn't touch 2nd base going back after the catch (We call this pulling a Jay Payton here). The Mets, perhaps in a bit of payback for Monday, appealed and the runner was called out, ending the game before even Frank Francisco knew what was going on.

So, the Mets salvage a game against the Cardinals, when they probably should have won the series if there was any Justice, but whatever. The Cardinals can go play the Brewers, Rockies, Padres and Marlins and probably win themselves another Wildcard in the process. Or they can go jump in a lake for all I care. We're done with them, and not a moment too soon, because for some reason, my ire towards them really started to come out this week. Let's instead focus on R.A. Dickey, who looks like he may be going on another hot streak to finish out the season, opportune considering his prime positioning for a potential Cy Young Award. Right now, he's the first to 18 Wins in the Majors, and the first Mets pitcher to win 18 games since Frank Viola won his 20...22 seasons ago (and as an honorable mention, Dwight Gooden won 19 that same year). Dickey's primary competition is probably Johnny Cueto from Cincinnati, whose sole edge may be that his team has been playing exceptionally well (and he leads Dickey in ERA by about 10 points). I know that there's some sort of anti-Knuckleball bias being talked about (and perhaps a Mets bias, too), but I have to call BS on that. I don't care what he's throwing or whether it's a gadget pitch, or whatever. He's had an outstanding season for ANY pitcher. Dickey has pitched out this entire season as an absolute master of his craft. It just so happens that his craft is throwing a particularly elusive pitch. He's more than earned whatever accolades he may get this season.

Red Menace

I can't be bothered to wait until tonight's game ends before launching into another rant. Right now, it's the bottom of the 8th inning and Jeurys Familia just allowed his first Major League Hit after fanning Lance Berkman for his first Major League Strikeout (and followed up with his First Major League Double Play Induced), but the Mets are losing 5-1, and the Cardinals will find some way to screw the Mets out of any sort of rally they might mount in the 9th, whether it's by bringing their Low-Rent Brian Wilson clone out of the bullpen, or invoking the spirit of Tony LaRussa (He's Innovative!) or the flames on Yadier Molina's neck turning into a fire-breathing dragon and toasting every runner attempting to score, or something else nauseating.

I suppose some of this is residual bitterness from Monday's 9th inning, after Andres Torres was rooked out of a leadoff 2B in the 9th inning (although for all we know, the next 3 guys would have grounded to 2nd, struck out and flied to left). I feel conflicted about this. The call was clearly unconscionably blown by a rookie Umpire who was apparently egged on by Carlos Beltran. The Umpire, who's name isn't even worth remembering, vehemently defended himself, for reasons I can't seem to figure out, since it seems fairly obvious that Torres just did tap that base with his heel. But, there's another feeling I've had. What the hell is wrong with Andres Torres? I know he's sort of an aging, wily veteran brought in for the  purpose of playing the Outfield or providing sage wisdom, but his presence on this team has baffled me ever since Opening Day. Why do the Mets need Andres Torres on the roster? They already have enough outfielders who hit about .220 with inconsistent defense and no power, in fact, they traded one to the Giants in order to get Torres. And, quite honestly, although he did touch first yesterday, I think a headier player would have really made sure he touched first, not looked back like he missed it, and maybe, just maybe, argued the call in his defense a little bit, or maybe demanded the Umpire ask for some help. I suppose this isn't a popular viewpoint from the Mets or their fans, but, just saying, it's the proverbial turd in the punchbowl.

Tonight, no better luck for the Mets in St. Louis, a place that's been about as kind to them as Atlanta, and another team and group of fans that I've had more than enough of. I can't even get behind their "Feel Good" championship run last season because they already won one recently at our expense, and Man, that Tony LaRussa was a first-class Jackass. And he proved it again this season with his behavior during the All Star Game. I don't care if LaRussa's gone, or Pujols is gone, I still hate the Cardinals. And every Mets fan should. And tonight just added more fuel to the fire, since they beat Matt Harvey on about 230 feet worth of hits in the 2nd inning, nothing major, just singled him to death. And, of course, the Mets looked like patsies against Jaime Garcia. So, all in all, a great night. Barrel of laughs. Great great great.

Fortunately, Dickey in the Afternoon tomorrow, and you know what that means, it's R.A. on the Radio in the office. A good mixture.

Happy Sack

Well, when Jason Bay starts hitting Grand Slams off your pitchers, you know you've got problems. And boy, the Mickey Mouse Marlins have some problems. In fact, they've got so many problems, that they actually managed to out-Mets the Mets this past weekend.

I already went over what happened on Friday, when R.A. Dickey went out and blew through the Marlins like they weren't even there. Saturday, it appeared like Josh Johnson was going to pull the reverse Dickey, as he did what he usually does to the Mets: Tie them up in knots for several innings, while the Marlins pecked and scraped for their 3 runs against Jeremy Hefner. Hefner, who's slowly improved, still isn't exactly a confidence-inspirer, but he's certainly acquitted himself well enough over the past few weeks. But, when you're facing Josh Johnson, sometimes there's nothing to be done. Until he leaves the game and you can feast on the awful Marlins bullpen. Steve Cishek came in with his sidearmed slingshot delivery, and started giving up Bloop hits and walks and I think he hit a batter somewhere in there too, and then Kelly Shoppach hit a clean single up the middle to tie the game, and when Justin Rugelachiano forgot to pick the ball up, a couple more runs scored, and the Mets had themselves a nice comeback victory.

Sunday, the Mets finished off another sweep of the Marlins by sticking it to Mark Buehrle early and often, capitalizing on more bloops, more walks, and more bad Marlin defense in front of the rare sight of a Jason Bay Grand Slam, which staked the Mets to a 5-0 lead that, against the Sad Sack Marlins, even Chris Young couldn't screw up. And he didn't, putting forth one of his better starts of late, making sure that Grand Slam stood up in a 5-1 victory.

All in all, a fine weekend for the Mets, who all of a sudden have found themselves in a bit of a hot streak, winning 7 of 8 and maybe pulling themselves out of the doledrums a little bit. Now, off to St. Louis, where the Mets mysteriously have not yet played this year (Milwaukee is going to be their other random, non-division road trip this month), to hopefully keep this little run going and maybe even stick it to the Cardinals a little bit.

50 Years in Cards: 1993

Part 32 of our 50-year Free Agency Disaster...

What is it: 1993 Topps #52, Bobby Bonilla

What makes it interesting: The '93s are kind of nice, as the early '90s Topps cards go. Topps upgraded their stock to a coated white this year, much shinier than the flat white they used in '92, and obviously nicer than the cardboard stock they used every year prior. This, clearly, was in response to Upper Deck, who joined the fray in 1989 and took the quality of a Baseball Card to another level. Or ruined the hobby. Your call.

They also had some of these "cool background" cards of star players. Here's Bobby Bonilla, resplendent in front of the New York Skyline. Few players arrived in New York with as much fanfare as Bobby Bonilla, who signed a record contract with the team prior to the '92 season, and brought a broad smile and tons of promise to a team that had fallen on hard times.

Few players did more to vilify themselves during their time with the Mets than Bobby Bonilla.

After a debut performance that saw him hit a pair of Home Runs in an extra inning Mets victory, Bobby Bonilla basically did everything wrong from there. He underperformed at the plate, loafed in the field, and basically became a target for fan derision and a pariah in the media for his behavior in general. This included phoning the press box during the game to dispute an error he was charged, and the famous "I'll show you the Bronx, Motherfucker" incident with Bob Klapisch. His numbers, which had made him a 4-time All Star with the Pirates, dropped precipitously in '92, when he hit .249 with 19 HRs and 70 RBIs. His power numbers improved in '93, as he hit 34 HRs, , but by that point the team as a whole had spiraled out of control, unable to win games or inspire any sort of confidence. An injury would end Bonilla's season in early September, but little could have been done to save the Mets from an embarrassing 103-loss season where Bonilla made the All Star team because there had to be a Met on the team, not because he was particularly deserving. By this point, Bonilla was shouldering the brunt of the blame for the Mets struggles, and rightfully so, as his attitude never improved. Nonetheless, Bonilla actually improved in '94 and '95 (he had to, there was really no place to go but up), hitting .290 with 20 HRs in the strike-shortened '94 season, and made another All Star team in '95, hitting .325 in the process before he would be dealt midseason to the Baltimore Orioles. By this point, the Mets were in selloff mode, and decided to deal away the ugly contracts and build around Generation K and a group of young players. Bonilla, for one, was traded for supposed 5-tool player Alex Ochoa, who never did develop the way he was billed, but given the goodwill Bonilla had generated in his stormy 3 and a half seasons with the Mets, the Mets were probably better off without him.

Bonilla would bounce from Baltimore, to Florida, to the Dodgers after departing the Mets, drawing vicious taunts and boos every time he showed his face at Shea. Fate, of course, intervened on November 11th, 1998, as the Mets, desperate to get rid of hideous reliever Mel Rojas, and the Dodgers, desperate to dump Bonilla and the horrendous contract he'd been given by Florida (who had pawned it off to LA in one of their annual Fire Sales, in a deal involving Mike Piazza) decided to swap headaches, bringing Bonilla back to the Mets. Bonilla would return to the Mets fat and out of shape, and did little to do anybody any good during the '99 season. He spent a good chunk of the season injured, and following an incident when he refused to Pinch Hit, wisely buried on the Bench by Bobby Valentine, where he could inflict no further damage. For the '99 season, Bonilla solidified his legacy as an All-Time Mets Villain with his .160 Batting Average and 4 Home Runs. Nonetheless, Bonilla was still regarded as a threat, and somehow earned himself a spot on the Postseason roster, and appeared in several instances where a long hit might have earned him some forgiveness. True to form, Bonilla did not come through. After finishing the season playing cards with Rickey Henderson while the Mets fought the Braves to the death, Bonilla was mercifully released on January 3rd, 2000, where he could no longer pollute the Mets with his presence. But, of course, the stink he left continues to live on. The Mets, so eager to rid themselves of his presence, agreed to buy out the final year of his contract by deferring the payments to $1+ million a year over 25 years, beginning in 2011. After all the crap the Mets had to endure with him on the team, and all the crap the Wilpons have inflicted on us with their financial mismanagement, they're still stuck with Bobby Bonilla on the payroll. Somehow, it seems fitting that he would haunt the Mets long after he'd played his last Major League game.

Card back:

50 Years in Cards: 1992

Part 31 of our 50-year Greasy Spoon...

What is it: 1992 Topps #590, Howard Johnson

What makes it interesting: The '92s are only slightly better than the '91s, design-wise, but still not an especially good issue. They stuck with the same annoying multi-colored patterns by team, often they became difficult to read if you were looking at the wrong team (say, the Phillies or the Twins).

Howard Johnson came to the Mets in a deal that was somewhat of an afterthought prior to the 1985 season. He came primarily to be part of a platoon at 3rd Base with Ray Knight. After playing a similar role on the 1984 World Series Champion Detroit Tigers, Johnson was benched following a slump, and became relegated to a bench role during the Tigers' postseason run and was deemed expendable following the season. Johnson did little to distinguish himself for the Mets in '85; both he and Knight spent a majority of the season hitting below the Mendoza line with little power. But, Johnson did make his hits count, coming up with some key late-season hits vs. the Cardinals, and finished at .242 with 11 HRs. In '86, Johnson was again stuck behind Knight, who had an excellent resurgent season, while Johnson was left to switch between 3rd and Shortstop. His numbers, at .245 with 10 HRs, were no better than the prior year, and although he did take home his 2nd World Series Championship in 3 seasons, both were accomplished with Johnson providing little more than reserve support.

But, when Ray Knight departed as a Free Agent following the '86 season, Johnson finally was given a chance to prove his worth as the full time starter at 3rd. Johnson responded with a career year, hitting .265 with an eye-popping 36 HRs and 99 RBIs, and even adding 32 Steals into the mix. He and Darryl Strawberry became the first teammates in Major League history to have 30-30 seasons. He even hit a Home Run in the 2nd inning of my first game on August 23rd. He accomplished all of this despite spending most of the season hitting 6th or 7th in the lineup. Johnson's power surge was so unexpected, that he even drew the ire of Cardinals Manager White Herzog, who confiscated Ho-Jo's bat during a July Game, suspecting Johnson of corking. The X-rays were negative.

1988 saw Johnson regress a bit, batting only .230 with 24 HRs, and began to hear boos from the crowd. But in '89, Johnson responded with another outstanding season, once again reaching the 30-30 plateau, batting .287 with 36 HRs, 101 RBIs and even leading the National League with 104 runs scored. Johnson also made the first of his two All Star teams with the Mets. 1990 was again an off year for Johnson, as position changes and inconsistency undercut his season, but in 1991, there he was again, carrying the Mets with a NL-leading 38 HRs, 117 RBIs, and another 30-30 season. But with the pieces around him gone, Johnson was left to bear the brunt of the team on his own, and alone, he couldn't do it all. With the Mets beginning to crumble into oblivion, Johnson fell off as well. Injuries would limit him in 1992 and 1993, and his numbers tumbled to 7 Home Runs in each of those years. Johnson would not be resigned following the '93 season, and left as a Free Agent. Nonetheless, his 192 Home Runs and 629 RBIs continue to rank among the best in club history.

Following his playing days, Johnson would resurface as a coach in the Mets Minor League system, mentoring many young players such as David Wright, who would eventually go on to surpass Johnson as the top 3rd Baseman in Club History. Johnson would become the hitting coach for the Mets in 2007, and although his performance was less than desirable (and often drew the ire of this blog's author), Johnson's reputation as a fan favorite could not be tarnished, and probably never will.

Card back: