It's Mets For Me: Off-Beat, Tangentially Relevant Mets Ruminations

Off Base Since 2005! Mets commentary from the counter-intuitive to the unintuitive and all the intuitives in between. ** "Through the use of humor and gross inaccuracy...a certain truth can be gained." Rob Perri ** (pester me at:itsmetsforme@gmail.com or follow me @itsmetsforme on twitter)

Saturday, August 11, 2007

There Goes the Sheaberhood: BillyGoat, Black and Blue Beltran Blow Ballgame

Coming off the emotional atrocity that a typical Mets-Br*ves series represents, the plan had to be this: Sweep the cellar dwelling Fish while the Phillies and Atlanta destroy each other, thereby restoring peace to the Shea-berhood and padding the Mets lead on at least one of their two rivals. Either way, Mets win, right? There was only one problem with the plan: the Mets can't even beat the Marlins. It's just one damn thing after another with this team. While the boys from Flushing have sleepwalked through the season, comfortably nestled in first place, the team chasing them, the one wearing hoods and burning crosses, means business (even if they can't seem to put it all together against any team not wearing orange and blue).

Yet the Mets continue to smile and dugout dance, and talk about retiring with world series rings. While this passivity keeps the team budget for Gatorade coolers and batting helmets in line, it is cold comfort for passionate fans. Meanwhile, Larry Jones digs in to the batters box to deliver another key hit for the Br*ves as comfortably as I sit on my couch complaining about it. These days, snakebit Paul lo Duca can barely get playing time or hits, much less throw a temper tantrum. It's enough to make Mr Met throw his head on the field in disgust.

The team complacency is matched only by lack of gelling-ness, which, although it isn't a word, seems to describe this team. Willie the conductor can't seem to get the orchestra to play the same song. When one part of the team starts to come around, the previously reliable parts, like Countrytime's 9th inning Houdini act or Buntran's smooth Centerfielding, start to hit awful screeching notes. Continually confounded by one minor league hurling master or another, the Mets are now 1-3 against scrubs from the farm. But that record of futility is just this season; flailing away against unknown pitchers seems to be a dubious calling card of 21st century Mets clubs. Do they have anyone preparing them for pitchers? one often wonders. The mixed metaphors of this paragraph are meant to reflect the nauseating experience of watching the Mets this year. Have you thrown up in your mouth just a little? Or maybe a lot?

A week or so ago, it looked like HoJo's mojo was injecting new life into the awful offense, and the deadline addition by addition of Castillo looked like the most Omar could have pulled off, short of letting Rickey (who is shown on television stretching his legs in the dugout...juuuust in case) take the field between the white lines.

Encouraging signs. Hmmm. Well, the Mets offenCe has started to stage late inning comebacks, which is good. I still like the Castillo acquisition, though it messes with LoDuca and Lastings Milledge's posible roles at the top of the order, when it works, it really works. I'm not so impressed with his range or throws to home plate though. And the pen seems fortified by Jorge Sosa's performances. But the rotation has compensated and started springing leaks, the kind of holes that 5-6 runs drip through.

The hope is that the Br*ve's can continue to not be able to get out of their own way, and the Mets can get hot in September and October. The only thing slumbering in the Delgado household is Carlos' bat. Only the most ardent Pedrophile thinks a Martinez contribution is in the (citi) bank. Hoping to back into the World Series is not as fulfilling a senario as 2006 led us to expect. It is hard to be an optimist at this point, that's for sure.

Now, as if my bloodpressure needed it, Toothless Tommy is using the 300 win spotlight to talk retirement while also threatening to take up rotation real estate again in 2008. According to the Post, Glavine would only think about continuing to pitch if the Mets do not bring home the World Series title this year. If I could want a Championship more than I already did, I do now! Since things don't always go as I want in Flushing, I can see Tomahawk being retained next year, even though his pressence at the "top" of the Mets rotation is clogging up the rotation as far as I'm concerned. Relying on his inconsistency, smoke and mirrors performances, and the umpires mood to score wins for the Mets is something I wish the Mets would avoid. Adding to the madness would be if Omar pays this meatballer more than union rate, seeing as there will most likely be NO COMPETITION FOR GLAVINE'S SERVICES, as there was last time around; the Br*ves won't want him, and Glavine limits his options at the outset to the Mets and their most hated adversaries. My teeth are getting ready to gnash.

2 Comments:

  • At 1:22 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    You're back, man! I haven't had a chance to read all your new stuff yet, but then again, I've just been catching recaps of the game, as I'm enjoying the summer. I did get down your way and saw the Saturday loss at Dodger Stadium three weeks ago. Fun anyway. Hope you had a nice trip to Asia and all is well!

     
  • At 10:13 AM, Blogger Jaap said…

    I have seen sneaky snippets of the lack of range you speak of with Castillo. The way he waves at grounders that are just a leetle too far to the left or right makes one think he gets paid extra for not diving for those balls in the hole and not getting his little jersey dirty. I'm still pissed at him for taking Gotay's miraculously unexpected place in the second baseman's lounge act but it IS impressive to see good a fielder Reyes has become by comparison.

     

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This blog is meant completely and entirely in jest, unless you count the angst, and is not meant to offend anyone, unless you are a Br*ves fan. It's not affiliated with Sterling, the Mets, common sense, good taste, or anything really.