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For the purposes of this post, assume that none of the Mets play golf. You and I certainly know that's not the case, that many if not most of the guys in the clubhouse like to hit the links now and again. But bear with me and just let reality slide for a moment as I make fun of John Smoltz, Jeff Francoeur and Adam LaRoche for playing and losing a round of golf to Tiger Woods Saturday.
Hey Braves! You stink! Tiger whupped you but good, and the article says he did it while eating chocolate chip cookies and talking smack the whole time. That's just embarrassing. I don't care if you were playing against Tiger, Lefty or a reincarnated zombie cyborg version of Byron Nelson. You're supposed to be professional athletes. Where's your pride at?
Come to think of it, why are you playing golf at this time of year anyway? Last I checked, you finished 79-83 last season. That was a whopping one game better than the cheapest group of players money could buy. There was a matter of some kind of streak being broken. Let's be fair -- you were the worst Braves team since "Law and Order" was nothing more than a gleam in Dick Wolf's eye.
If it were me, I wouldn't have much pride left. But what little remained would compel me to work my ass off to get back into the pole position in a division that Mark Lemke seemed to have no problem with for so many years. I'd be doing everything humanly possible to get ready for 2007, hitting the gym like Clubber Lang before the first fight in "Rocky 3," putting a poster of the Mets on my wall and punching it every time I went past. There would be some bloody knuckles in Cheddar Ben's casa.
You seem to be taking a different approach. Don't get me wrong, I expect you had a beautiful time at Isleworth Country Club. I'm sure it was a rip-roaring great outing, full of jokes and good times and not a single passive-aggressive comment about being traded to the Pirates. But I would feel like I was letting my team down. Just a little bit.
Also, I'm not thrilled with the whole golf thing in general. You should know that.
Hey Braves! You stink! Tiger whupped you but good, and the article says he did it while eating chocolate chip cookies and talking smack the whole time. That's just embarrassing. I don't care if you were playing against Tiger, Lefty or a reincarnated zombie cyborg version of Byron Nelson. You're supposed to be professional athletes. Where's your pride at?
Come to think of it, why are you playing golf at this time of year anyway? Last I checked, you finished 79-83 last season. That was a whopping one game better than the cheapest group of players money could buy. There was a matter of some kind of streak being broken. Let's be fair -- you were the worst Braves team since "Law and Order" was nothing more than a gleam in Dick Wolf's eye.
If it were me, I wouldn't have much pride left. But what little remained would compel me to work my ass off to get back into the pole position in a division that Mark Lemke seemed to have no problem with for so many years. I'd be doing everything humanly possible to get ready for 2007, hitting the gym like Clubber Lang before the first fight in "Rocky 3," putting a poster of the Mets on my wall and punching it every time I went past. There would be some bloody knuckles in Cheddar Ben's casa.
You seem to be taking a different approach. Don't get me wrong, I expect you had a beautiful time at Isleworth Country Club. I'm sure it was a rip-roaring great outing, full of jokes and good times and not a single passive-aggressive comment about being traded to the Pirates. But I would feel like I was letting my team down. Just a little bit.
Also, I'm not thrilled with the whole golf thing in general. You should know that.
posted by Cheddar Ben at 3:45 PM
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