A Tribute

Not a whole lot has gone wrong this season for the New Mets, at least on the field. Despite a number of key injuries to core players, the Mets engine has kept on trucking along. Of late, it seems like they just don’t lose.

Today, for the first time that I can remember, the Mets have the best record in all of baseball. Their 82-49 record leaves them a measly .002 points ahead of the Tigers for the top winning percentage in the game.

This is an epic day in Mets baseball.

For the first time in a while, it is all starting to make sense to me.

The baseball season is a grind. I don’t think I missed an inning of a game for the first three months of the season, I would say the over/under would be somewhere around 15 total innings missed.

But of late, even the Sip has slowed down. I find myself watching more games on the internet and doing less arguing with my corny Yankee fan roommate over whether I can put on the tivoed Mets game.

162 games is a lot. It’s a fucking grind. Which what makes the fact that the Mets have been so consistently good so amazing.

How many losing streaks has this team really gone on? 1, maybe 2.

Was there a single month where we could say that these guys look bad? I don’t think so.

This, my loyal Y2kers, is a product of something much greater than talent on the baseball field. This is the result of two very important people in the organization, Omar Minaya and Willie Randolph.


I was a little harsh on Omar during the offseason, mostly because I felt he overpaid for his talent, that he did not maximize efficiency in all his deals.

But each end product has been an A+. Again, as much for the abilities on the field as their actions off.

Minaya preached two things upon his return to the Mets front office, pitching and clubhouse.

Pitching is easy, everyone wants pitching.

But the clubhouse that Omar Minaya has put together deserves a ton of credit.

To start, things are a lot easier when you have David Wright and Jose Reyes on your team. Does anyone in baseball have more fun playing the game than these two?

Then there was the acquisition of Pedro, the All Star pitcher/class clown. Pedro immediately brought smiles to Shea. He became the Roger McDowell of the new millennium.


The most controversial acquisition was Carlos Beltran. Beltran was a superstar on the field but somewhat of a recluse off the field. In simplest words, he was BORING.

Last year, Beltran struggled. He was bad on the field. He did not handle media relations all that well.

Enter Carlos Delgado. What better way to please your superstar signee than to bring in a close friend and fellow countryman? The relationship between Beltran and Delgado has been well documented, both on and off the field. Delgado serves as Beltran’s protection, both in the lineup and in the media and now all of a sudden our superstar can just play… and he is an MVP candidate.

Then we look at the rest of Minaya’s 2006 offseason.

Paul Lo Duca: Instant clubhouse hit, replacement for Mike Cameron in Big Three of Coolness, Wright, Floyd and now Lo Duca (RIP Killa Cam).

Julio Franco: Consummate pro, seasoned veteran, INSERT PLEASANT CLICHÉ HERE.


Billy Wagner: Good old boy. Gives an entire clubhouse confidence in a position that has failed the Mets for the last 20 years. A case where on field success translates to off the field confidence.

Look at the Mets. Is there anyone you don’t like? Is there an A-Rod on this roster? This whole team is involved in the magic and everyone is smiling. It is the perfect mix of respected veterans (Glavine, Delgado, Pedro) and shining youth (Wright, Reyes). The role guys are pleasant.

Heck, look at Endy Fucking Chavez.

Over the course of a 162 game season, this chemistry could not be more important. These guys spend pretty much every day of their lives together for six months. For good or bad they have to like working each other and respect each other.

Think of all the people that you hate at your job, and now imagine liking them. Wouldn’t it almost be pleasant to hear your alarm in the morning, press the sleep button and then hear it again?

So kudos to Wheel and Deal Minaya. This aspect of his acquisitions was clearly overlooked.

And of course, kudos to the king of the fresh toasted sub, Willie Randolph. Baseball managers are usually judged by wins, losses and clubhouse mishaps. Willie is a perfect 3-0. He is winning and his team is happy.

People talk about Willie and Jimmy Leyland as the two best managers in baseball this season. It makes a whole lotta sense in so many ways.


One thing to remember is this. The Tigers have dominated with pitching. Verlander, Rogers, Robertson, Bonderman getting the ball to Zumaya, Rodney and Todd Jones. Yes they are young, but they have been great.

And more importantly, they've been HEALTHY.

Willie has managed to overcome losing his two best starters and best setup man for extended periods of time. He has thrown in a cast of misfits and castoffs and continued to win. Every button he has pressed has come up green.

This has been the dream season at Shea -- so far. Our expectations are high.

But unlike the Yankees, who rely on overwhelming talent to win, the Mets have something greater. They have a team.

Teams win championships, not players.

And so we pray.

Vaya con dios,

Sip

Steve Trachsel For... Game 3 Starter?

Dear Diary,

So there’s this boy on the team I like. His name’s Steve. He’s always kind of been there, and for the longest time I thought he was gross. He takes 4EVR!! to throw the ball, and I hate the way he saunters around like he owns the place.

Ugh! I really, really don’t want to like him, and I know I shouldn’t, and I still don’t really… but, kinda, maybe sorta I do?

Ugh!

Confused,
A.F.O.M.G.

* * * * *

Conventional wisdom: Nobody wants to see Steve Trachsel start Game 3 of a playoff series.

This was the thought going through my mind yesterday as I watched Trachsel – or “Trash” as he was lovingly called by Dave Williams during an interview on SNY with Y2K legend Chris Cotter – work his way through another masterful 6 innings of 3-run ball.

I shouldn’t be so hard on Trash, 6 innings of 3-run ball actually qualifies as one of his better showings. His ERA dropped from 5.00 to 4.98, he wiggled out of jams with an almost unheard of 6 strikeouts, and somehow he managed to notch his 12th victory in 13 starts.

Over the course of his improbable 13-start romp through the National League, Trachsel has been the beneficiary of incomparably high run support.

Including last night’s 10-run outburst against the Colorado Rockies, the Mets have averaged 8.92 runs per game in Trachsel’s starts since his streak began on June 9.

Rejoinder to the conventional wisdom: Perhaps no Mets fan wants to see Steve Trachsel start a playoff game, but what if the one group of people who seem to enjoy having Trash out on the mound are the Mets themselves?

Baseball’s a funny game. For all the statistical analysis out there, I’m convinced that some things just can’t be explained.

I don’t know, for instance, how it’s possible that the Marlins are 1 game out of the Wild Card lead with 25 22-year-olds on their roster, but I’m sure that somewhere a Disney executive is hoping, praying that the Fish will win first a playoff spot, and then later the World Series.

(Starring Gheorghe Muresan as a taller, equally ugly Joe Girardi and featuring Michael Caine playing against-type as meddling owner Jeffrey Loria, the film would chronicle the trials and tribulations of the magical 2006 season in South Florida.

The film’s final third would begin with Girardi’s near firing after telling Loria to shut up. A broken Muresan would collapse in his manager’s chair after explaining to a stunned silent Marlins clubhouse that his time with the team may be up, but then Mike Jacobs, played in a career-making turn by Paul Walker, would heroically cross the room, put his hand on Muresan’s shoulder and declare resolutely “We believe in you, Coach.”

Overcome with emotion, Muresan mouths the words “Thank you” to his young first baseman, the room erupts with cheers, and the Marlins go on to win 9 straight, then the Wild Card, then the National League Championship Series over the sneering, overconfident Mets, and lastly the World Series over the still more sneering, still more overconfident Yankees.)

For that matter, I can’t explain how Fran Healy kept his job as a Mets broadcaster for 22 years.

Anyway, file Trachsel’s streak under the impossible to explain category. The question I have is whether the team’s remarkable production with Trachsel on the mound ever becomes statistically significant.

Every ounce of logic out there tells me that it’s with some combination of coincidence and luck that the Mets score nearly 9 runs a game Trachsel's starts, but we baseball fans are nothing if not superstitious, am I wrong?

It all goes back to “Bull Durham”: you never fuck with a winning streak.

If the Mets continue to score 9 runs a game for Trachsel throughout the month of September, and if they continue to win virtually all of Trachsel’s starts, does there come a point when we decide, hey, the Mets just play better when Trash is out on the hill, why fight it?

I know the idea rebels against everything most of us have come to appreciate about baseball over the past half decade or so. K’s per 9. WHIP. OBA. The fact is that Trachsel’s teammates have rendered it all meaningless over the past 2.5 months.

My feelings on this are complicated. There’s hardly any metric (beyond his good fortune) that argues in favor of Trachsel starting a playoff game for the Mets. I know that.

But here we are on August 30. Trachsel is on pace for a 17-6 season, which may be good enough to lead the National League in wins. The Mets offense erupts every time he takes the mound.

It probably doesn’t hurt that the opposing pitchers in most of these games are the Josh Towerses, the Miguel Batistas, the Elizardo Ramirezes, but in fairness there have also been Randy Johnson and Greg Maddux (who, by the way, probably project to be Game 3 starters on the Yankees and the Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles).

At the end of the day, there is no denying the fact that the Mets are most productive when Trachsel is on the hill. I can appreciate that. So when I consider Trash as our Game 3 starter, I have to admit that, kinda, maybe sorta, my mind says no but my heart says yes?

- A.F.O.M.G.

Magic vs. Talent

(Note: Two-for-Tuesday here at Y2K. The first piece, by Sippy Momo, compares the Yankee juggernaut with the New Mets. The second, by Cheddar Ben, is about what we saw out on the field yesterday. Enjoy.)

Today’s piece is not as much a bash piece as it is a fear piece.

Simply put, the Yankees are really good.

Boston appears to be done. After the so-called "Boston Massacre" where the Bombers slapped their junk in the face of the city of Boston for 5 games the door was almost shut.

But with the recent injuries to Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz, the door is basically shut. See, not all teams in baseball can recover from losing 1 key player, let alone 2.

The Yankees have managed to do so with ease after losing Gary Sheffield, Hideki Matsui and Carl Pavano for large chunks of time because they still have $170 million dollars worth of payroll to work with.

Once again, it’s not fair.

But there is no use in complaining. This is the culture of baseball. Fat owners get richer because of the Yankees and the money that they generate both as a franchise and as a draw in away cities.

With the game’s popularity at a recent high, baseball will not change, at least not anytime soon, so we have to take what is thrown at us.

And what the Yankees have is SCARY.

The lineup 1-5 may be the best of all time.

Damon, the perfect leadoff guy.

Jeter, the perfect 2 guy.

Abreu, who has found the ideal situation in the Bronx, is the perfect 3 guy for that team.

Giambi has been the perfect 4 guy.

Even A-Rod, under such scrutiny remains the perfect 5 guy.

With Sheffield and Matsui potentially returning for the playoffs, the lineup may get better still.

The Yankees win because of pure talent. On paper, they are about 96 times better than anyone else. They should win. They should have won for the last 5 years.

Still, they are missing something.

I got an e-mail from the Happy Man yesterday around 10:15 PT that read something like this:

“On a shitty day, in a somewhat meangingless game against a team that needs this game as much as anyone, the Mets came out and dominated.”

H Man is right.

What is happening at Shea is truly magical. This team should not win.

They have no Pedro.

They have no Glavine.

David Wright hasn’t gotten a hit since he met AFOMG about a month ago.

Their best bullpen guy got in a freak accident.

Their best hitter from a season ago has been banged up all year.

Yes, Beltran and Reyes continue to thrill and Delgado is looking like the basher of old.

But so much has gone wrong of late. And still, the Mets just keep on winning. The answer…Magic.

You never hear Yankee fans talk about the Yankee Magic anymore. That’s because there is nothing magical about having better players. That is why Yankees fans use “aura” or “mystique.”

Paris Hilton has a certain aura to her as well. Doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be killed.

But there is something magical about Elisha Cuthbert. That she could transition from the sweet but strong Kim Bauer to the sexy temptress Danielle in "The Girl Next Door," shows something about the young Canadian bombshell.

As you are all scratching your heads right now, asking, what the hell is he talking about, the answer is once again simple. I just went off on a complete tangent.

But my point about the Mets is this. For years, we have watched shitty teams do special things. They won games that they weren’t supposed to. They might end up with 74 wins, but 25 of them were really exciting.

It’s why AFOMG and I hit up Shea 30 times a year.

There was something special there.

This year is even more special. This team actually has talent.

Let's get Pedro and Glavine healthy and then see what we can do about Cliff. Lets give D-Wright a couple of days of R & R and then let's see what happens.

Because what’s going on at Shea is just weird.

For those who read this column since last October, you may notice a totally changed Sippy Momo. I went from being maybe the biggest pessimist in the game to probably the 4th biggest, but for me, that is a huge improvement.

Everytime John Maine or Orlando Hernandez or Steve Trachsel or Brian Bannister take the hill, I think the Mets are going to win.

There is just something going on here that we can’t explain but can only admire.

I pray for a Subway Series in 2006.

Their talent vs. our magic.

Eventual outcome…

Yanks in 5.

Whatever, this is the most I have had in my life and they are all Yankee fans. I’ll take it.

Vaya con dios,

Sip

Maine, Movement From Carlos, and "The Money Pit"

So, what if they threw a major-league baseball game, and only 8,766 people showed up? Yes, yes, you say, and what else happened in South Florida yesterday? Did a politician pander to the Cuban-American community? Did Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx show up to start shooting “Miami Vice 2: Cold As Vice?”

Actually, not this time. Given the right set of circumstances, even mighty Shea can look as empty as a busted gas can, and the stars aligned in that precise order Monday. Sunday's rain pushed a mostly meaningless series finale against the Phillies to an early (read: 12:10) start, the sky continued to look ominous, and few fans decided the juice was worth the squeeze.

According to the AP report, of 45,868 paying customers, fewer than 9,000 sat in their seats. It's called Weather-Induced Mets/Phillies Phatigue Syndrome (WIMPPS, for all you acronym hounds out there, and god bless all of you), and it broke out in a big way..

As a result, I wasn't alone in failing to watch the game live, and I've only caught snippets of it on the replay. Even so, a couple of things stuck out about the Mets' 8-3 victory (9 of 10, 15 ½ up on the Phils).

It was a big bounceback start from John Maine.

Great stuff against a tough offense. Five hits and two walks allowed in 6 1/3 innings on the hill, on a semi-efficient 108 pitches. Not spectacular, but he got out of a dangerous jam in the first and followed up with two mow-down innings.

Burrell tagged him on a 1-0 pitch in the fourth for a two-run homer, but those were the only two runs Maine gave up. Then, you had to love the way he responded, coming back to retire Dellucci, Coste and Nunez in order. Without blazing stuff or a killer strikeout pitch, Maine's going to have to minimize damage during slippery innings to remain effective in both this season and the future.

Plus, he was coming off the worst start of his MLB career. You probably recall as well that Maine was pointedly slapped around by Albert Pujols during his last outing, to the tune of a season-high 7 runs over 5 innings.

Well, against the highest-scoring team in the NL, he came back strong. A good sign.

Beltran steals a base.

Shoot, it'd been a while, eh? Well, Aug. 18, at least.

But before that, Carlos was on an 18-game steal-less streak. He had swiped a pair back on July 26 against the Cubs, but that had ended an even longer 27-game drought dating back to June 11. That's just not very much, especially for the most efficient base-swiper in the history of the game.

It's not like Willie's been shy about giving the green light. The Mets lead the Dodgers atop the NL Team Steals leaderboard by nearly 20. But Beltran's monstrous power numbers have largely supplanted, rather than complimented, his speed totals.

There are certainly some conceivable managerial reasons for holding Beltran back short of injury, including the relative merits of opening up first base with Delgado at the dish. But the spots have still been there, and they've consistently been passed up.

To some extent, you still have to think that Beltran's right hamstring, so troublesome back in April, is still something of a concern – that the Mets' top priority is keeping him healthy.

It's not affecting his fielding or baserunning choices, as far as I can tell. This is just a little something extra, an additional insurance policy.

That's fine as far as it goes. At this point, there's literally no stolen base Beltran could attempt that would be worth the risk of his injuring himself on the play, so there's no loss on the competitive front. Fair enough.

But you have to wonder whether or not his running game will begin make appearances as the regular season winds down, or whether it will return once the playoffs begin (um, should the Mets qualify, that is). Something that bears watching.

The rest of the game was nothing out of the ordinary – Ryan Howard homering, Wagner dominating in a non-save situation, Chris Woodward going hitless.

The Money Pit.

Meanwhile, the Yanks were off. This, of course, did not prevent a new Carl Pavano injury story from making the rounds. Apparently, Pavano got in a car accident midway through the month, and didn't tell anyone in the organization until this past weekend that two of his ribs were broken. Good lord.

The quote from Cashman, though, is just priceless: “There's a lot of words which would come to mind.” No kidding. I mean, who signed this lemon, anyway?

If it ain't one thing, it's the other. Ladies and gentlemen, say hello to Carl “The Money Pit” Pavano. Or, actually, don't. It will, somehow, hurt him.

The Greatest Fall of Our Lives

Last night is my favorite night of the year. Every year at the end of August me and my best pals from the U gather in cyberspace -- a land that I have shockingly grown quite close with over the last 6 months -- for our fantasy football draft.

As you all know, I am a baseball guy first. I would trade 10 Giants Super Bowls for 1 Mets World Series.

At the same time, I am definitely a fantasy football guy first.

Everything about it to me is perfect, but most importantly, it is that for one day a week, 9 beautiful hours, you have one thing on your mind: getting in the end zone and racking up yards.

Unfortunately, I have been deemed the Yankees of my fantasy league.

After winning the first 2 years -- followed by 3 years of losing -- (FIRST OR LAST in the Momo household) I feel like 50 Cent, like I have an S on my chest.

Everyone is out to get me. My friends get their players fired up when they see the GPB’s on the schedule (my team every year is a knock at one of my meathead friends). And that to me is OK. I live for the competition.

The point of this column is not me. Though, I love me some me.

The point of this column is to discuss my sports euphoria, what could be the greatest September of my life and what we can all pray will be the greatest October, too.

The fantasy football draft is to me what the day after Thanksgiving is to the Christmas season. It is my launch date.

It’s the time of year where my two favorite sports overlap. As much as Opening Day is my favorite day of the year, the first Sunday is probably my second. Sitting in a bar and seeing all those screens with all those games in the one sport where every team cares about every single game.

It’s just a great feeling. A lot like Christmas.

Every year, those who choose Jesus Christ as their lord and savior experience an immense build up, hoping that mommy and daddy might get them that shiny new Marc Boerigter Colts jersey that they had been dreaming about since last week’s quiet but eventually impacting acquisition.

If little Sip was a good boy, maybe just maybe Senior might do a little research, call up some of the A-listers and make sure he found the perfect gift.

Unfortunately for me though, Jews don’t have Christmas. Instead they have 8 days of joy that end when you are 10 years old and you realize that this is just a sad attempt to compete with the Yankees of religious practices. And then you pray, and I mean pray, that grandma remembers to send you that spending money.

I’ve never experienced Christmas. That time where everyone you know is happy, even if for the other 364 days of the year they may be miserable and sad. I saw it happen with my buddy the Kid’s family a couple years back, and it was truly a magical thing.

This year, that magic will hopefully sprinkle on all of us.

With my fantasy draft I know that the stretch run is upon us. Baseball is winding down as football season lies on our fingertips. It’s the best of both worlds, and for the first time in 20 years, both of my teams will be sharing meaningful games in the fall.

For 5 months we have watched the Mets plow through the National League like Brody Croyle plows through debutants at an Alabama barbeque.

But now, it’s going to really mean something. The prize is actually in our sights. We know we are going to make the playoffs, we have basically known that for three months now.

Which means the expectations for all of us are extremely high. Every one of us, for the first times in our lives, thinks we have a legitimate shot at winning this thing. It’s a weird but amazing feeling.

As I write this column I think of all my close friends, my brother and even my dad. We have all sweated this thing out for so long. For most of us, this is more than 20 years and tens of thousands of hours invested in a silly little baseball team.

For me, this is my hobby, my passion and everything that is just OK in this scary little world of ours.

Which is why, as my Christmas season begins -- following a stunning draft that saw young Sip stock up on quarterbacks, the cocaine of trade commodities in our 12-team 2-QB league -- the Sip only has one real wish.

I wish that I do not have to really start caring about the Giants until November.

You all know what that means.
Vaya con dios,

Sip

Home Cooking

Here's the thing – when it's actually surprising to see the Mets drop a single game at Shea, well, that's a a good feeling.

Friday night's 4-3 loss to the Phillies was about as mundane, ho-hum, “Two and a Half Men” as a loss can get. Average. Both teams bang out seven hits, draw four walks and leave seven aboard, only the league leader in home runs gets his lick in, and the comeback doesn't happen.

Fine, whatever. How many times does that type of thing happen during the course of a season? A couple dozen?

But not at Shea while the Mets are hot. That's the difference.



From Aug. 4 to Aug. 25, New York won 11 straight outings in Queens, outscoring a series of visitors 65-36. The Mets got a group shutout effort (led by El Duque) a week ago against snooze-worthy Colorado, but otherwise used a group of steady efforts from a banged-up pitching corps and some ridiculous production from Los Dos Carloses.

Which is notable, because there's a difference between a hot streak from a good, healthy, cruising team (i.e., the 2006 Detroit Tigers at the beginning of the year), and the display the Mets just put on.

Rather, this has been a topsy-tuvy month for the New Mets, filled with any number of items which could have derailed the good times. There was an emotional, home-run-filled return to Shea for Mike Piazza, amply chronicled here at Y2K. There was a freaky blood clot scare for future HOFer Tom Glavine, and new DL trips from Pedro and Uncle Cliffy. The team added both a mensch and a meshuggeneh.


All the while, the Education of Blastings Thrilledge (one of the best of the eight million stories in the Naked City, I'd argue) continued apace, with our hero temporarily sent back down to the minors. He'll be back soon enough, unlike the flameout once known affectionately (and, as it happens, wrongly) as Mini-Manny.

Victor Diaz, DFAed as a result of the Green deal. R.I.P., man.

Now, every club has their own crosses to bear, and their own misadventures and mishaps to account for. But they don't dominate the way these Mets do. Wait, what was my point again?

Oh, yes. The point is that, despite being about as cliche-ridden as a phrase can be, being able to “overcome adversity” is a useful quality for a ballclub to have, especially insofar as it is a reflection of the group's clubhouse chemistry and mental flexibility rather than the vagarities of chance.

Another way of putting it would be to say that the postseason will certainly be bringing a host of new challenges to the Mets, most of which we can't even anticipate at this point, and that by excelling as they have through this tumultuous period, Willie's boys have shown us just what we would have wanted to see.

Did the Mets just get lucky for a while at home? Was this a fluke, a trick of a small sample size? Probably not, but only time will tell.

I, for one, think there was some pretty strong baseball played in Queens over the past several weeks.

On with the linking:

• George Vescey writes today (behind the TimesSelect wall) that the Mets should forgo selling the naming writes to their new pad and name it after Jackie Robinson. I think the idea makes sense on a number of levels, including the fact that it's a fine tribute and a fitting gesture. I also tend to think that the popular and media acclaim that goes along with such a non-corporate titleing tends to make up for the lost income stream. But then again, I also think billionaires taking fat cash handouts from cities to run their private businesses should be pretty damn receptive to anything we suggest.
• I'm far from the biggest Lupica fan in the world, but it's hard to argue with his output from today. Yankees to move A-Rod? Outstanding. Willie for Manager of the Year? Tremendous, although this paragraph (" Randolph is Manager of the Year in his league, and in his city. The fact that others are discussed ahead of him just shows that it is still easier for him to win baseball games, in a career of winning games, than it is for him to get the proper respect.") is pure gibberish. That'll happen in a Lupica column, though. You've got to see it coming, and step around the hit.
• If you think the New York media mails it in from time to time, you're going to love the Philly guys. Sample three paragraphs from this beauty:
  

  The Phils have made the most of recent opportunities.

  It's time to do it again.

  One game into the big series in New York, they have done that.

I mean, pay that man his money! This is gold, Jerry, gold!

• Phillies games sure turn into Chris Coste lovefests before long, hey? I'm as much for the heartwarming anecdote about a 33-year-old rookie as anyone, but Gary Cohen needs to tone it down a notch. Sample, as this schlub bloops a rolling opposite-field double down the line: "And the legend of Chris Coste continues to grow!" Um, sort of. If you're that into growing his legend, check out his stellar web site, where you can watch highlights and read samples of his two books, 1997's "Hey, I'm Just the Catcher" and the brand-new "RollerCoster - A Ride Through the Minor Leagues." Paging Dennis Quaid.
• Even after a bad inning Saturday night (and an especially bad 0-2 pitch to Ryan Howard), I'm extremely bullish on Oliver Perez, the Mets' new fireballing lefty headcase. There's more to be said on the topic, but he was absolutely dominant for four innings until his mechanics started to fray just a little. Even then, he got a bad break to start the fifth (striking out Coste looking, but not getting the call), which led to a frustrating sequence (walking the pitcher Lieber around two fielder's choices, RBI single, plunking Utley, two fantastic sliders to Howard and a third that ended up somewhere around the Celestial Object Formerly Known As The Planet Pluto). Anyway, Alex Nelson looked at what we can expect from him earlier in the week. The verdict? Not sure.
• It's alright to feel good about this. It really is. You're not a bad person. You're still a loving, caring individual. You're sensitive to the plight of others. You're ... hold on a sec. Damn voodoo doll keeps falling off the desk.
• Steve Goldman, the best Yankee writer out there, points out A-Rod's road numbers are almost identical to those from his Texas days (scroll down). We here at Y2K are perfectly willing to ignore data points like that, and will continue to argue that A-Rod is choking on the stench of loathing (both self- and otherwise) rising from the streets of New York like the slime in "Ghostbusters 2." I think that's fair.
• The guy who runs the Marlins is an absolute moron.

Finally, if you don't think we'll be dealing with the horror of this eventually (click on the link and around the site only if you have an extremely strong constitution, or have not eaten eggs today) ... well, we will be.

Until next time...

It Just Don't Matter

(Sincere apologies for the massive delay. A lot of problems with our server. Be sure to check in on Sunday for Cheddar Ben's weekly recap.)

Great news everybody! Know how the Mets just swept the Cardinals? Well, applying the logic that Brian C., one of our loyal Yankee fan readers, employed on Tuesday, us Mets fans no longer have to concern ourselves with that pesky little 3-game sweep we suffered against Boston earlier in the year.

Brian C. admonished Sip on Tuesday for arguing against the Deej-for-MVP brouhaha. He further suggested that Sip should "take a day off from Yankee bashing. After all, we just wiped the floor with the same team that shat on you three straight times earlier this season..... remember that?"

I remember it! But thanks to our tidy 3-game sweep of the Cardinals, I don't have to worry about it! See, the Mets swept the Cardinals. That we know. But did you also know that earlier in the season, the Cardinals swept the Royals? Yessir, from May 19 to May 21, the Cardianls wiped the floor with Kansas City's finest.

Water under the bridge you say? Hardly. See, those same Royals, who were so unceremoniously swept (on their home field no less!) by the Cardinals, recently completed a 3-game sweep of the Red Sox.

So don't you see? The Mets just swept a team who swept a team that swept a team that swept us! So that sweep-job the Red Sox pulled on us doesn't matter!

Sorry, that's all a bit ridiculous, but I had to get it out of my system. What can I say? As the Mets pass their latest milestone en route to their first division crown since 1988, I've got a little extra spring in my step, and I'll be damned if that extra spring doesn't fill me with a bit of whimsy.

And really, why shouldn't we all feel a bit giddy today? Remember all those years of thinking we could really make a run at the division title? Gone are the days when .500 ball seemed like a godsend. Here we are now, 30 games over .500, the class of the National League.

Some people want to apologize, or they don't feel like it's worth advertising the fact that we're the best the National League has to offer. They think it's tantamount to being the biggest fish in a small pond. Sorry, I'm not drinking the kool-aid on that one.

Why is it our responsibility to apologize for the fact that every other team in the National League isn't any good?

Were the Yankees expected to apologize throughout the late '90s and early '00s when three of the teams in their division were awful? When there were a grand total of 5 other AL teams above .500 on August 25 as was the case from 2002-2004 (and was only not the case in 2005 because the Blue Jays were 1 game over the break even mark)?

Look, I realize those other years the teams that were good in the AL were better than the ones that are good in the NL this year, but I'm through apologizing for the rest of the senior circuit.

The Mets have completely outplayed virtually every other team in the National League. We've had rough stretches just like anyone else, those three games in Philadelphia last week (on the heels of a 7-game winning streak, it sure feels like longer than a week, doesn't it?), but on the whole we've proven we're the class of the National League.

So I was pleased yesterday while watching Willie Randolph's postgame conference, when he was asked if the Mets were the best team in the National League.

"I feel we are," Willie said, without skipping a beat. He didn't even have to think about it. Neither do we. The Mets are 30 games over .500. The next best teams in the NL are 6 games over. There's just no comparison.

Now as reassuring a prospect as that is, there are contingent concerns that go along with that dominance.

It's been said a lot on Metsblog recently, but me, I've gotta give the credit to Greg Prince over at Faith and Fear. In our interview, he speculated about how this Mets team would be remembered if it failed to make the World Series, concluding how it would be a bit like 1988.

The 1988 Mets won 100 games but lost in the NLCS to the Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles, the eventual champs.

You get no bonus points for losing to the eventual winners, unfortunately, and for these 2006 Mets, there will be no bonus points for a season that ends with 100 wins and a first- or second-round exit from the playoffs.

So it's true what some people have said lately; in a sense, we really have become like the Yankees. See this year, anything short of a World Series appearance is a failure, at least in the context of the 2006 season.

I add that caveat because 2006 is a great stepping stone, no matter how it ends. The promise of this year's team is an emerging juggernaut of Reyes-Beltran-Wright. It's the promise of guys like Lastings Milledge and Mike Pelfrey.

But taken on a micro level, 2006 must end in a World Series appearance or be considered a failure in retrospect. That's not fair necessarily, that's not what we'll tell ourselves in November if that's what happens, but that's how it'll be.

But you know what? I'm not particularly worried about it. I wasn't worried about it on Tuesday before the Cardinals series began, and I'm even less worried about it after bringing out the brooms.

I think these Mets have that swagger that envelops a championship team. They've got the look of a team that knows this is its year.

That's why they win the games that Dave Williams starts. That's why they can suffer injury after injury and still roll through the competition.

It's easy to love a team that's riding high on a 7-game winning streak, but there's an energy and enthusiasm with this team that wasn't there in 1999 or 2000. That team played like underdogs. This team plays like wolves.

Cot damn am I ready for the playoffs to start.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Why Not?

My good pal Danny D, one of my few credible Yankee fan friends gave me some real lip service the other day after my column on Jeter’s MVP candidacy being a joke.

He agreed that Jeter’s stats alone were not enough to make him an MVP, but that there was something else, something that we all know as baseball fans but that all Yankee fans truly know, watching the captain play every day.

To Danny D, Jeter is a legitimate candidate for one of baseball’s biggest honors.

At Shea, we have a very similar player. You could argue that this player is the face of the Mets. His calm but pleasant demeanor makes him a consummate teammate. Season after season his consistency is almost unquestionable but it is this year that he is truly emerged, truly grown into the player that he is today.

Which is why today, we here at Y2K, your every day place for Mets adoration and intense Yankee bashing, begin our own little campaign. A campaign with as much if not more validity as the Jeter for MVP campaign.

Steve Trachsel for CY YOUNG.

That’s right I said it.

One more time, that’s Steve Trachsel for Cy Young.

With last night’s stellar 5IP, 6 ER performance, Trachsel notched win No. 13 under the belt. His 13 wins tie him for first in the National League, while his 13-5 record again ties him with fellow Cy Young candidates Brandon Webb and Carlos Zambrano atop the senior circuit.

The obvious stats are there: the wins, the record.

But it is some of Trachsel’s other stats that really separate him from the pack.

1. Innings per start.

Trachsel’s 5.6 innings per start are fewest among the National League’s elite. This proves Trachsel’s efficiency on the mound, his ability to go out there and get a win quickly. Why pitch 7, and tire out your arm, when you can throw into the 6th and get the win?

This not only demonstrates Trachsel’s precision but also a superior intelligence to Zambrano who pitches well into the 7th.

2. K's/9.

Trachsel averages an insanely low 2.9 k’s/9 innings pitched. Some might frown upon this. Not us. In an era when pitchers aim for strikeouts to get on SportsCenter, Trachsel goes right after the batter. I’ll throw it, you just try to get a piece of it. Which leads to my next point.

3. Batting average against.

Trachsel’s opponents are hitting .286 against him, roughly the same # that our MVP candidate Carlos Beltran is putting up for the Mets.

This number once again shows Trachsel’s commitment to the team. By allowing runners to get on base, he is keeping his defense sharp and ready. In a season where the Mets' D has improved significantly, a lot of that can be attributed to Trachsel, who keeps the ball in play. Our defense wants to play for him.

Said Jose Reyes on Trachsel: “What can I say, I am happy to be here.”

I hear you blood.

4. The rest.

The rest of the stats are there. The 1.57 WHIP, the 94 pitches per game, the 5.00 ERA. These stats all lead to one bigger idea. A gutsy performer, Trachsel just knows how to win.

Trachsel has that something that Jeter has. Something inside of him that doesn’t show up on the stat sheet but that all of his teammates are aware of.

So what if he is the 4th best pitcher in the rotation?

So what if he faces opponents' 4th or 5th starter on a nightly basis?

This guy just has it. He knows how to win. Baseball fans have thought of it, but Mets fans know it.

Which leads me to one final point, or what I like to call, the icing on the cake.

5. The longest-tenured Met.

This often gets brushed under the rug, but Stevey Trachsel has been a New Met since they were super old. Trachsel has been in Queens since 2001, making this his sixth season at Shea.

Like Jeter, Trachsel has put up gaudy numbers in the past.

He posted a 3.37 ERA in 2002.

He was 16-10 in 2003.

But in neither of those years did Trachsel get the praise that he deserved. We all know how great he was, but baseball did not recognize it. Which is why Trachsel’s CY Young award in 2006 makes so much sense.

In a season where the Mets have overcome all the obstacles to become the best team in the NL and after years of being dismissed as a real Cy Young candidate, Trachsel has earned his due.

Many in the Bronx are calling this the Yankees' most impressive run. They have only been playing with $180 million dollars worth of superstar this season, with Sheffield and Matsui shelved on the DL. All of which makes Jeter’s candidacy so intriguing.

In the same sense, this is the Mets most impressive season maybe in our lifetime. Why shouldn’t the best pitcher on the best team be the CY Young?

So it all adds up my friends. Having both incredible numbers and a team-first attitude as well as having been pushed aside for so many years, Steve Trachsel is finally ready to make the jump.

Alert the press, tell your friends and spread the word.

Let's get this campaign alive and kicking.

Trachs! Trachs! Trachs! Trachs!

Magic number is 24.

Vaya con dios,

Sip

As Good as 24 Hours Can Get Without Jack Bauer

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. A whirlwind couple of days culminated yesterday in an orgiastic celebration atop home plate, where members of the Mets celebrated with Carlos Beltran, whose game-winnig home run was the cherry on top of an unbelievable day.

There were three major headlines out of Shea Stadium yesterday. Let's touch 'em all.

1. Blood clots. One bad. Several good.

... Or something like that.

Look, I'm not a doctor. I won't pretend to understand the science behind why Tom Glavine is alright, all I care about is that he's healthy and he'll be back on the mound in 7-10 days.

After news broke of Glavine's condition Sunday night, Sip and I took turns arguing that all was not lost. I particularly liked Sip's point about how the Mets win games, which he articulated thusly: "The fact is, the Mets were never going to out-pitch anyone. At least not from innings 1-6... The Mets win games with their bats. They win games at the end of the games."

Conceding that point, I think I speak for Sip, Cheddar and everyone else out there when I say that the Mets' playoff chances improve with Glavine in the fold.

In a year when the Mets' starting rotation has been racked with injuries, Glavine has been the constant. Sure, Steve Trachsel has been there too, but it was Glavine who set the tone for this club early in the year when he raced out to an 11-2 record through June.

Since then he hasn't been the same. He struggled mightily in July when he went 0-2 with a 6.00 ERA. August has been a little better, 1-2, 3.60 ERA.

But his numbers in the dog days of the season won't quantify what it'll mean for this team to have him starting Game 2, to have John Maine as a long relief option next to Darren Oliver.

Maine may yet earn the start in Game 4 of a series, incidentally, but as it is, Pedro/Glavine/El Duque looks a lot better than Pedro/El Duque/Trachsel.

So Tommy, glav (har har har!) to have you back.

2. A late-season Greenie.

After countless articles were posted in Buster Olney's weblog and various allegations were levied that the Mets were acting just like the Yankees by pursuing the Diamondbacks' Shawn Green, the Mets finally completed their trade for the former juiced up superstar/current juiced out capable veteran.

I like the trade a lot. For the same reason that the Mets are better off with Glavine out there in Game 2 rather than Maine, so are they better off with Shawn Green out there rather than Lastings Milledge.

Like Glavine, Green's been to the circus. He's seen the sights. He won't get the deer in headlights look that we saw from Milledge in front of the Green Monster. Milledge is certainly entitled to working through his growing pains like everyone else.

As has been said before, however, the difference between Milledge and David Wright/Jose Reyes' growing pains is that the latter's were worked out in the midst of dreadful season, while Milledge's are being worked through in the midst of what is potentially a championship season.

A converted centerfielder, Milledge just doesn't get great reads on balls off the bat yet. It's why he looks so tentative out there, why he's always a split second too slow to the ball. Basically, he's not the guy you want out there in the World Series.

For his part, Green is not the player he once was, but he lends stability to the outfield, greater credibility to the lineup (now 6 players deep again) and divine favorability to the Mets should the one true God be He worshipped in the Jewish faith.

At about $6.2 million, Green is not a particularly expensive upgrade, sorry Yankee fans. This isn't the same as taking on $15 million worth of Bobby Abreu. It's also not the same as taking on however much money Jose Canseco was due back when the Yankees acquired him for no other reason than to prevent a rival from doing so.

With the X-Man gone and Cliffy once again perpetually injury prone, this was just a sound baseball move. It gives our team a nice little boost in an area of need (no offense, Michael Tucker). Nicely done, Omar.

3. Buy one Carlos, get one free.

Confession time: I didn't see last night's game live. I caught most of it on DVR last night and then on Mets Fast Forward this morning (no I didn't wake up at 5 a.m., thank goodness for DVR).

What I didn't miss was a series of text messages from my co-bloggers.

Cheddar Ben (9:30 p.m.): A looper. A caddy, a pro, a jock. You know, a looper.

I knew two things. The game was close, and Braden Looper had made his return to Shea Stadium. In my mind I heard lusty boos, I saw bottle caps thrown, I saw... an obscured scoreboard. This was the scene as I waited endlessly for the crosstown bus, until...

Sippy Momo (9:48 p.m.): New mets!

The Mets had won the ball game. You all know how it ended, with a no-doubt-about-it line drive to right field from Beltran, with Gary Cohen's irreplaceable call: "One swing could win it for New York... HE RIPS IT TO DEEP RIGHT, AND IT'S OUTTA HERE!!!! OUTTA HERE!!!!! THE METS WIN THE BALLGAME!!!!!!!!!!!! BELTRAN WITH A WALK OFF TWO-RUN HOMER IN THE BOTTOM OF THE NINTH!!!!!!!!"

So great to see. It's what we love about this team, isn't it? The way it always keeps fighting. The way you can never count it out. For me, the day began with me realizing how the Cardinals, nor any other team in the National League, don't scare me; it ended with a thorough reminder of why that's the case.

It's like Sip said. We don't win ballgames with our starting pitchers. We win them with our bats and with our bullpen (4 scoreless innings last night). But guess what? Yesterday our postseason pitching got better, and so did our lineup.

Hell of a win. Hell of a day.

- A.F.O.M.G.

5 Reasons Why Jeter For MVP is a JOKE..And a tribute to the NY POST

So AFOMG and I see eye to eye on most. We both are Mets fans we both grew up on the same block. I always say to myself, if I couldn’t grow up across the street from Vinny Chase, like that ZERO E, than AFOMG is a solid back up.

When it comes to our favorite New York Daily this is where the conflict begins. Of course AFOMG goes for the Times. My thoughts: a little heavy for the morning.

But after AFOMG reads the times and I watch sportscenter or perhaps a Saved by the Bell rerun (Sorry Dad), we both move on.

Only AFOMG goes for the Daily News while I go to NYC’s bible for sports and late breaking gossip, the Post.



Which is why I was ecstatic to receive a text from my old pal, son of legendary Y2K poster, the Hound, to see that Mark Hale of THE NY Post reported that Glavine would be ok and would only miss one start.

Considering this didn’t come from my main man Mike Vaccaro, a Y2k enthusiast in his own right, I give it about a 40% chance of being true. But in the end it doesn’t matter, for it ws written in a style that was quick enough that I would not lose my focus.


So when it comes to our Newspapers, FUCK AFOMG. For pretty much everything else, He cool.

One thing that we certainly agree on is the bullshit that is this Jeter for MVP hype.

Since my good pal and recent Y2k add on Cheddar Ben brought on the subject last week, the thought has not been able to elude me. DJ for mvp? Really? On that team?

The more I thought about it, the less sense that it made. There were about 10 reasons why the thought of this is a joke, but here are a few.

1. Jeter hits #2 in the order between Johnny Damon and “insert allstar here.”

This is never really discussed. DJ has arguably the second best leadoff hitter in the game (Mr. Glass of course is #1) hitting in front of him. With Damon on base and the 2b playing over to cover for a stolen base/double play, Jeter is able to hit his dink groundball thru the right side for one of his patented inside out singles.

Then, when you look behind Mr. DJ, the guy has more protection than a virgin in a condom shop. Pick your poison. 3-7 for the Yankees is an allstar team. Jeter is really the one guy you can pitch to, because if you miss on him it will most likely result in a harder hit single, as opposed to a Jason Giambi moonshot to the upper deck in right, or a Brokeback Bomb my A-Rod to anywhere in the park.

Of course Jeter is Mr. intangible/clutch/go deep in the count. But this is not that impressive. He is sandwiched between the best. We have all seen what having Carlos Delgado behind him has done for Beltran. The guy is on pace to hit 40-130. That’s a lot more impressive than 15-90.

2. He is not even the MVP of his team
This has to go to Jason Giambi. Is there a more feared back on the juice guy in baseball.

All this dude does is mash bombs and walk. He's on pace for 49,136 and a .410 OBA. With the short porch in Yankee stadium, this guy is more intimidating than a jewish girl from Long Island who just received her first AMEX card. As stated in point #1, it is Giambi behind Jeter that makes oppoising pitchers have to go right after the captain.

And seriously, has there ever been an MVP on a team with a guy hitting 50 hr's standing right behind him in the lineup. How bout 3 guys with 100 RBI?

3. There can not be an MVP from the Yankees
They have too much talent. They have lost Sheffield and Matsui this year and have never been better. Remember when Sheffield was #2 for MVP 2 years ago with Matsui close behind. You can not lose two mvp candidates and still dominate and then try to claim that the domination was the result of one insanely valuable player.

The Yankees took two stars out of their lineup and they were still great. Try taking out Manny or Big Papi from the Sox lineup. If one of them is out, that the other one does not see a single pitch all season. Take Sheffield out of the Yankee lineup and your 3-4-5 is $63 million worth or Abreu-Giambi-A-Rod.

4. The A-Rod Factor
One of the smartest things I have read in a long time. Kudos to cheddar Ben, and anti- Kudos to BOBBY Ca$hman. Seriously, if Joe Torre and Jeter are such fucking saints, how could they let this happen.

(That pic will never get old)

Has anyone seen A-Rod’s #’s? The guy is on pace to hit around 35-120. It’s not like this guy is putting up a Beltran ’05 year. But yet, at Yankee stadium, where unlikable players are praised every day, A-Rod, the most clichéd of them all (read: perfect Yankee) is booed.

5. Mauer, Thome, Ortiz, Manny, Giambi, Morneau.

There are 6 guys that should be ahead of A-Rod for MVP.

Mauer is having a better year than Jeter with a shittier team at a tougher position.
Thome=Yoke shot
Ortiz/Manny- Both will hit at least 40-130, Manny(45,132,.330) Ortiz (58,153. Ortiz is also way more likable than Jeter
Giambi- Read Above. The most feared Yankee
Morneau- Having a Gehrig like season(Projected 41,142, .317). Instead of hitting in front of or around Damon, Giambi and A-Rod, this guy has Mauer and than Michael Cuddyer, Lew Ford, Jason Bartlett, Luis Castillo and a half of a season with Torii Hunter…god the fucking Twins.
Hell throw my man Pronk in their too. That guy is slowly hitting 45-140-.310…AROD got MVP for a last place team. This guy’s team is in 4th.

Then there is Jeter (13,101,.336)

This isn't the early 90's and this isn't Terry Pendleton. Come on now.


I may come off as harsh. I’ve said before and I’ll say it again. Jeter is a star. He is the face of the game and the face of maybe the biggest franchise in the world. His intangibles and leadership have no peers, especially in our generation of me first players.

But this guy is not an MVP.

He is a great player, a better teammate and an even better ambassador to the game. But he is not the MVP of the American League.

He’s probably the 3rd most valuable player on his own team (Giambi and Rivera).

Sorry Deej.

VCD,
SM

(The Ex-) Cardinal Rule

Hey everyone. As far as we know, Tom Glavine didn't suffer a second non-life-threatening blood clot yesterday, so that's something. Otherwise, not much news on that front.

Baseball Prospectus' injury guru Will Carroll didn't have much to add Monday, while the papers basically carried the emotional reax, as they had to. This isn't the best situation for them, as they await an uncertain diagnosis with few attractive ways of getting at the story or distinguishing their coverage.

And, for a variety of reasons, today might not be the best day for the Yankee mocking. Yup. We'll see if Sip has anything to say about it, but for my money re-enacting the Boston Massacre buys you at least one day of reprieve here at Y2K. I'm magnanimous like that.

So, let us now turn our attention to the Amazins' upcoming series against the St. Louis Cardinals, holders of a 2 1/2-game lead in the National League Central, aka The Sinkhole.

(Ozzie Guillen on the Cards' digs -- "I don't know about the other [National League] divisions, but the Central? Oh, please ... We might win 150 games in that league." Dang, cuz!)

But even considering its current advantage in the standings, this just isn't the same St. Louis club most of us remember from years past. No, sir.

In 1999, Nelly's favorite team managed to turn 65 steroid-aided Mark McGwire home runs and a massively fluky season from Fernando Tatis into a mere 75 wins. From the 'Lou, but not proud, one might say if one were an idiot.

The very next year, fueled by the arrivals of Jim Edmonds, the late Darryl Kile and a 20-year-old future head case named Rick Ankiel (11-7 with a 3.50 ERA and 194 strikeouts, lest ye forget), St. Louis improved by 20 games in the standings and romped to a division title. The subsequent stomping at the hands of the Mets in the NLCS aside, it was a sign of the good things to come for the Busch faithful.

The Cards went on to win 90 games in four of the next five seasons, including back-to-back 100-win showings in '04 and '05. Scott Rolen came over in 2002, one year after a freakish and somewhat boring slugger named Jose Alberto Pujols showed up in the dropslot. Both contributed to a balanced approach featuring a dangerous lineup and a deep rotation.

They were the class of the National League. No more.

First of all, they were due a bad karma bashing of biblical proportions for firing the scout who brought them Pujols, wrapped only in swadling clothes and Big League Chew. Good lord, what a bad idea. Cue Denholm Elliot, and a hastily murmured "You're meddling with powers you can't possibly comprehend."

Those who ask "why" ought to continue here: thus far in 2006, half-pint-sized shortstop David Eckstein leads St. Louis in at-bats (477, good for 9th in the league). He's "slugging" .329.

No. 2 on the playing time list? Free agent mistake Juan Encarnacion, a corner outfielder with a disgustingly bad .312 on-base percentage. Add in a down year for Edmonds, and even a bounceback year from Rolen and some recent heroics from rookie Chris Duncan haven't been enough to make up the slack.

The real implosion, though, has come in the rotation, where only Cy Young hurler Chris Carpenter has maintained his previous form. Baseball Prospectus has a measure called SNLVAR that measures adjusted value above replacement level pitching talent. In 2005, the Cards tied with Anaheim for third, behind only the staffs (staves?) of Houston and Hotlanta.

They're down to 12th this year, saved only by Adam Wainwright and a decent bullpen. Jason Marquis can't strike anyone out and has a 5.70 ERA in 27 starts, while Sidney Ponson's 5.23 ERA in 13 starts was enough to earn him a pink slip. Jeff Suppan is sitting above 5.00 as well, while midseason cry for help Jeff Weaver (the bad one) has been predictably subpar.

And if that wasn't bad enough, here's Mark Mulder making guys like Brandon Claussen and John Thomsen look good by comparison. Once a member of Oakland's big three, Mulder started the year decently but has since fallen off the mesa entirely. Through 88.2 brutal innings, the man who led the AL in wins in 2001 has a 6.09 ERA, and is currently fouling up his rehab starts.

Basically, this could be brutal. The Mets drew an opposing lineup of Weaver, Mulder and Marquis that wouldn't flatter the Royals. They should brutalize all three.

It's almost a shame, really, that a series representing something of a torch passing in the National League is shaping up as an uglyfest. At full speed, the 2006 Mets are a fun-loving force to be reckoned with. In a more perfect world, this would have been a coming-out party, a stage on which to assert their dominance in the new NL.

Now? For one, they're not at full speed (say hello to projected Thursday starter Dave Williams). For another, looming injury concerns are pecking away at the Mets' mojo, and are dragging down the good times to some extent.

Not an overwhelming amount. Even with Pedro, Tommy, Spliff et al on the shelf, the team has the ability to make a statement, and can be considered likely to do so.

That will have to suffice for now. A good showing would go a long way toward making the gang forget about blood clots for a while, and reinforce just how they assembled their massive bankroll of a lead. It's with that in mind that A.F.O.M.G. has called this "the last interesting series of the year."

If everything goes well, he'll be right.

- Cheddar

Everything's Not Lost

(Note: Double the obligatory Tom Glavine response pieces today, the first by Sippy Momo and the second by A.F.O.M.G. Step back from the ledge and enjoy.)

As we await the test results from Tom Glavine’s angiogram on his left shoulder, Young Sip sits on the Caltrain to work, nervous yet optimistic.

A lot has changed over the last year. The Mets got good, I started wearing pants that fit and all of a sudden I am somewhat optimistic.

Maybe its those chats with Happy Will or the fact that Carlos Beltran, who once looked like 7 years of Bobby Bonilla, is now a star.

Whatever it is, I am seeing positive for the first time, especially when it comes to the Mets.

This is why the potential loss of Tom Glavine for the season does not kill me.

Of course it hurts. Glavine signed with the Mets both for financial and team-related reasons. He wanted a 4th year and a shot at 300 wins, but he also wanted to rebuild the Mets. For 2.5 years, Glavine struggled. The Mets were as bad as the ace they swiped from the Braves.

Then a funny thing happened in the second half of 2005. Tom Glavine started pitching like the Glavine of old and all of a sudden he looked great again.

As Glavine went, so did the Mets. Glavine’s red hot start in 2006 was one of the major reasons for the Mets' dominance of the National League in 2006.

For most of the first half of the season, Glavine was practically unhittable. He was an early candidate for Cy Young, an amazing feat for a man in his 40’s who had to change his pitching style after nearly decades with one approach.

Over the last couple of months, though, Glavine has cooled down. He saw his ERA rise from the mid 2’s to the high 3’s. He’s won just 1 game since June 23rd and for the most part has been rather inconsistent.

As we get ready for LAG (Life After Glavine) we must answer what Glavine’s loss means to this team. Glavine was clearly our #2. We knew he would pitch in October, he was essentially our one sure thing along with Pedro.

Somewhere between an all-you-can-eat sushi dinner and a long trip to the bathroom that followed shortly thereafter, I realized that losing Glavine is not all that bad.

If you take a look at the 2006 Mets, there are two reasons what we have had the success that we have had: the offense and the bullpen.

1-9 the Mets lineup has dominated. With Jose Reyes serving as the catalyst at the top and a murderer’s row of Beltran, Delgado and Wright in the middle, the Mets have destroyed opposing pitchers.

We have also received significant roles from Paul Lo Duca, who leads the team in hitting, Jose Valentin, the pleasant surprise over at 2b, and Endy Chavez, who has spelled our often injured outfield.

Then, we have the bullpen. Chad Bradford, Duaner Sanchez (RIP) and Aaron Heilman have been for the most part spectacular in getting the ball to Billy Wagner. While Wagner has slipped a handful of times, each one more magnified than the last, he has been pretty much lights out for the last month and is hopefully getting into the groove that we need him to get to.

But the rotation hasn’t really been there. The numbers can back this up. Pedro has 9 wins, Glavine has a 3.92 ERA and then what? We have gotten 6 solid weeks of John Maine, inconsistency out of El Duque and Trash and some very ordinary appearances from our fill-in guys like Mike Pelfrey.

If you were to tell me in April that this would be our rotation and this is how it would be performing, I would have told you that this is a 2nd place team.

The fact is, the Mets were never going to out-pitch anyone. At least not from innings 1-6. But in the National League, what is fortunate, is that no one will out-pitch us.

Save the Astros, who no one wants to see in October, the Mets are currently looking at the Cardinals, Red and Padres in October.

From that group there are the struggling Jake Peavy and Chris Carpenter, the guitar strumming/second-half-fading Bronson Arroyo and a whole bunch of Steve Trachsel’s. The Mets are not the exception, starting pitching in the NL is thin.

Losing Glavine will not change that.

Sure it hurts. And yes, it would be sad if his career ended this way. But in all honesty how much confidence do we all really have in Glavine, especially in October?

While he broke me and my buddy Nails' respective hearts in Game 3 of the 1999 NLCS, a lot has changed for the Tommy the Spy. At this point, he is a better option than El Duque, but really, by how much? For the last two months, we never knew what we would get out of Glavine. He wasn’t the Tom Glavine of April and May but instead, the Tom Glavine of second-half 2004.

I apologize if I sound callous, in the wake of the biggest doctor’s appointment of Tom Glavine’s life, both personally and professionally, but I am trying to be honest as a fan as well as optimistic.

The Mets win games with their bats. They win games at the end of the games. Losing Duaner Sanchez, in my opinion was a far bigger loss than losing Glavine would be.

Do I hope that he is healthy, that the results come up negative? Absolutely.

But do I think we still have a shot without Tommy G? I still really do.

After all, we have David Wright and Jose Reyes, and with these two we have the two biggest pleasures in the game on our side every single night.

To Tommy, we here at Y2K wish you the best.

VCD,

SM

What the Blood Clot?

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. Sip will be in later with today's post, but before we get to that I just wanted to share some thoughts on the Mets' season, as seen through the prism of the situation surrounding Tom Glavine right now.

When the season ends and the Mets find themselves winners of between 95 and 100 games, as seems likely, a lot of people are going to look down their nose and say it doesn't count because we play in the National League.

As if the team on the other side of the diamond is the only adversity a team faces.

Look, I know all teams have injuries, I know the Mets are not unique in this regard. But what other team has seen four of their five starters lost for such significant swaths of the season? What other team that lost four of their five starters also lost their best reliever?

Do you remember what our rotation looked like on Opening Day? Pedro, Glavine, Trachsel, Zambrano, Bannister.

Bannister and Zambrano were lost in the space of a week. Pedro has spent significant time on the disabled list, about a month and a half by the time he returns from his current stint on the shelf. Now Glavine might be lost for the season; his career could be over.

I'll say it again, we're not the only team with injuries. The Yankees lost Hideki Matsui and Gary Sheffield (of course, it's a lot easier to lose two 100-RBI guys when you've got two other 100-RBI guys, and when you've got the financial leeway to acquire a third, but I digress).

The guys we've brought in to replace our depleted starting corps have been awful (Jose Lima), bad (Jeremi Gonzalez), OK (Mike Pelfrey), sometimes-brilliant (John Maine) and some mix of the four (Orlando Hernandez).

And yet in spite of it all the Mets continue to steamroll through to October. Weak league? Yeah. Gutsy ballclub? You better believe it.

A lot of people in the papers are gonna tell you we just don't have the pitching to see us through a playoff run. I'm not gonna lie, it won't be easy with a rotation of Pedro(?), El Duque, Trachsel/Maine. But I'll concede nothing beyond that.

If the wheels were going to fall off the Mets express, they would have by now. Our team has found ways to win all year long, no matter the adversity, no matter who's been out there on the mound.

Try to remind yourself of that the next time someone tries to tell you how easy a go of it these Mets have had.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Lazy Sunday Dry Run

"He's become a writer. It doesn't take long. Keith Law is officially an idiot."

That's Toronto Blue Jays GM J.P. Ricciardi quoted in the Toronto Sun yesterday about former employee Law, now a columnist/blogger at ESPN.com. You can feel the maple syrup-infused love from across the border.

There's an actual situation here, a nice little backstab by Law, who wrote (ESPN Insider link) that Wells "has told Blue Jays' management that he has no intention of signing a contract extension to stay in Toronto." The problem being that Wells, when asked, called that "a complete fabrication."

Regardless of the merits of the case (I agree Wells is probably gone, maybe to the Red Sox ... but I don't have any actual, you know, proof), I found Ricciardi's choice of words to be interesting. Note that Law hasn't become "a liar." Oh, no. Nothing that innocuous.

He's become "a writer." I know, it's bad. Hide your little ones.

That's the attitude most (if not all) front office types assume when it comes to us chattering types, the ones who put cyber pen to virtual paper in pursuit of better enjoying these great games played by men. Your average general manager just doesn't think much of that sort of thing.

Which is fine and dandy. Because we, in turn, are free to not think much of what they do.

For example, I didn't think too much of Ricciardi's decision to give Eric Hinske to the Red Sox for nothing more than shipping and handling fees, sending along half of his salary for next year in the process. Reasonable people can disagree on how much help he'll be to the Sox, but a lefty bat with an .865 OPS isn't something you toss away when you're relying on Reed Johnson, Lyle Overbay and Frank "Weenie" Catalanotto not turning into pumpkins.

Salary flexibility? Sure. More financial elbow room with which Ricciardi can work his magical roster-buffing transactions. Like, for example, signing Eric Hinske to a five-year extension. You see my point here?

Other GMs Cheddar Ben doesn't hold much truck for include Philly head honcho Pat Gillick, who you may remember as the stiff from the opening chapter of "Moneyball." It's only sort of his fault that the Phillies are such a joke that even an impressive three-game run of decisive victories against the Mets earlier this week did basically nothing to worry anyone. Three games under. Pathetic.

But we can feel free to deride his Bobby Abreu-dumping ass all we want. Gillick "cleared salary" without getting a single top prospect from the Yankees, all for one of the most valuable players in the game. And thus the paradox persists -- anyone who would slash and burn a team as such in search of financial freedom is probably also going to be pretty bad at spending that same money.

(The Phillies, in case you hadn't heard, play in the largest uncontested media market in the country, take the field beneath a new, taxpayer-funded stadium, and have a star pitcher apparently winded from beating his wife too much. Let's hear it, people!)

But as fun as being a critical idiot writer can be, I can't do that forever. Rather, I want to let Y2K's readers know how I envision this whole Sunday posting thing going.

You're going to see a mix of weekly roundup stuff, links to Met-loving and Yankee-hating items of interest, and a look ahead to the next seven days. Something to tide everyone over, and keep a lazy Sunday imbued with a proper amount of Y2K appreciation.

For example:

• This guy thinks Jose Reyes' lack of stature is going to prevent him from hitting for any power in the long term. A.F.O.M.G. may have something to say about this.
• The Shawn Green trade still hasn't happened yet, and people are starting to get antsy. Green was pissed about being held out of two games earlier in the week. The D-Backs have also called up stud outfield prospect Chris Young, who could push Eric Byrnes into an outfield corner for the remainder of the season in the event of a trade. My opinion is that Shawn, once a rare six-tool star (average, power, speed, arm, fielding, being Jewish), is D-U-N done, and the Mets should let Blastings play through his rookie cuts. More on this during the week as the story develops, in the event it does.
  
• Those intrepid editors at the Daily News had to stay up all night thinking of this gem. Which, let's just say, hasn't caught on yet.
• Marchman sez these Mets ain't the '86 Mets. Dick.
• Franco for SecDef! Alternatively, as a secretary of Health and Human Services, Julio might be persuaded to share the secret of his magical age-defying elixir with the rest of us mortals.
• You know, D-Wright goes through one little slump, nothing out of the ordinary, and all of a sudden, people start losing their minds. Honestly, I like their guy, but the writers in Cincy have to do something better with their time.

Anyhoo, look for more of the same along the way. The ball-doctoring magicians known as the Colorado Rockies are in town, and I'm off to Shea for a matinee.

Take care everyone, and enjoy the rest of the weekend.

The Most Unappealing Team Money Could Buy

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. Lively discussion on the comment board yesterday between Sip and a Yankee fan (I'm assuming Cashman and $$ are the same person, apologies if they're not), definitely worth checking out in case you missed it.

My favorite part of the discussion was how "Cashman" ended his first post with "you guys are just like the Yankees, you just don't know it yet...".

OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! OOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously though, come on, everyone who reads this site watches Entourage. If you want to channel Billy, the indier-than-thou director of Queens Boulevard, at least reference his sitar or something. (And for what it's worth, I'm not going it buy an "I don't watch Entourage" rebuff on this one).

Now look, I enjoy the Yankee bashing as much as the next guy, but I'm not normally the guy to bring it to you. But on the eve of this all-important 5-game series between the Yankees and the Red Sox, I find myself really, really hoping the Yankees don't make the playoffs this year.

You know what it is? I just find this group of Yankees to be uniquely hateable. I look at that team and I don't know how it's possible to root for any of them. It's just so different from the Mets.

This is where all the Yankee fans out there start crying bloody murder. Whatever. I've got my opinion and I'm sticking to it. Better yet, I'm anxious to defend it.

So with that in mind, let's go position-by-position and compare the men from Queens and the bitches from the Bronx. I realize this exercise is almost entirely subjective on some level, but I really think that if you got 100 baseball fans in a room and showed them this breakdown, the majority would agree with it as well.

Catcher: Jorge Posada vs. Paul Lo Duca.

Let's see... the guy with the "Posada is a little bitch" t-shirts or Paulie Thumbs, who picks winners by day and slays groupies by night? This one isn't even a fair fight.

As much as I'd love to say "And it's Lo Duca by a nose!" the gap between these two is more like a long sea mile.

Strongest possible advantage: Mets.

First base: Jason Giambi vs. Carlos Delgado.

The thing about Giambi is that all kudos he recieves for being cool are left over from his days with Oakland. Back then this would have been almost as one-sided a contest as Posada vs. Lo Duca.

Back when Giambi was the leader of Oakland's fratboy clubhouse, he was basically the coolest dude in sports. His "Hit like an all-star. Party like a rock star. Hammer like a porn star." t-shirts are legendary.

But something happened when he came to the Bronx. The tat-marked, shaggy haired punk was replaced with a lisping, Steinbrenner-jocking bitch who couldn't be more of a forgotten man in the Yankees' clubhouse.

Compare that with Delgado, the on-field leader of the Mets. The guy who pumps his fist with every clutch double play, the guy who actually takes an opinion on things and stands up for what he believes, the guy who actually has some principles and refused to sign with the Mets because Omar played the Latin card (and yes, I give him credit for that).

Sorry, I'm taking Delgado.

Advantage: Mets.

Second base: Robinson Cano vs. Jose Valentin.

Truth is, I know absolutely nothing about either of these guys. There's a part of me that wants to give it to Valentin because he's having a comeback player of the year-type season, which he deserves a lot of credit for. But in the spirit of fairness, I'm going to give the Yankees the advantage here. Whatever.

Advantage(?): Yankees.

Third base: Alex Rodriguez vs. David Wright.

Ahahahahahahahahaha.

Excuse me, THIS is the strongest possible advantage: Mets.

Shortstop: Derek Jeter vs. Jose Reyes.

Ahahahahahahahahaha.

Sorry, that was left over from the A-Rod/Wright comparison. Jeter vs. Reyes is a somewhat compelling argument. You gotta give Jeter his due here. He's a fist-pumping clutch performer. He's the leader of the Yankees (even though I think Cheddar's critique of Jeter's handling of the A-Rod crisis on Tuesday stands). He slams supermodels.

But then there's Mr. Glass. As far as I'm concerned, all you need to know is that he's the one who choreographs all of the Mets' awesome post-homerun celebrations. But if that's not enough, there's also the way he smiles and claps his hands after legging out a triple, or swiping another bag.

He stays out of the tabloids, but this 23-year-old already has one child, and his girlfriend's got a bun in the oven. Jeter can go on as many dates as he likes, but it's the Glass Man who closes the deal.

Besides, we're friends.

Advantage: Mets.

Left field: Cliff Floyd vs. Hideki Matsui.

Perhaps this should be Uncle vs. Melky Cabrera, but we'll go with the would-be everyday player here who's under a long-term contract.

Like so many others, I respect Matsui. I like how he plays the game. He's not flashy, he just goes out there and puts up numbers. He's a pro.

So no disrespect to Hideki, but come on, this is Cliff we're talking about here. The guy who gives the most amusing, most honest interviews in baseball (i.e. "there is no light at the end of the tunnel"). The guy who makes Wright carry his bags so that when he goes through airport security he has to say that issues of Ebony Magazine are his. The guy who's been through the ups and downs in New York and become a fan favorite.

Hideki is many things, but an electric personality he's not.

Advantage: Mets.

Center field: Johnny Damon vs. Carlos Beltran.

Alright look. Just like with Hideki Matsui, Carlos Beltran is many things, but an electric personality isn't one of them. We all know that this one should go to Damon.

And you know what? I'm gonna give him the advantage, against my better judgment, but here's what I would say if I weren't:

I'd say fuck that. We all know this one should go to Damon? We all know that Damon should still be with the Red Sox, but he's not. And for my money you can't put a price on integrity.

Now look, Beltran took the money too. But the guy didn't take the money to go to his team's biggest rival. As a matter of fact, he took the money to go to one of the worst teams in baseball. Now he's a major part of a franchise's revival. Damon? He's just another cog in the wheel.

Besides, Beltran makes 17 mil a season and it's still not enough for him to get that grotesque facial wart removed. Now THAT's integrity.

So that's what I would say. But in the interest of maintaining MY integrity, let's call this what it is.

Advantage: Yankees.

Right field: Gary Sheffield/Bobby Abreu vs. Lastings Milledge.

Let's see. On the Yankees' side you've got the biggest jerk in baseball this side of Barry Bonds or Bobby Abreu, perhaps the dullest player in the game. On the Mets' side you've got the cockiest kid in the league.

This one belongs to Thrilledge, if, for no other reason, than that he had the balls to slap hands with everyone in the stands after hitting his first home run. Or for rocking the biggest Jesus piece any of us have ever seen in his major league debut.

Not enough? Ask yourself, who would I rather hang out with? Yeah. Thought so.

Strong Advantage: Mets.

Starting pitcher: Pedro Martinez vs. Randy Johnson.

Ahahahahahahahahaha.

Not quite the strongest possible advantage (see "Third base: Alex Rodriguez vs. David Wright," above) but just a shade under that: Mets.

* * * * *

And that about does it for me, folks. Looking over that list, I'm pretty sure most everyone would agree with me if they could take a step back.

At the end of the day it doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean the Mets are better than the Yankees. All it means is that Yankee fans routinely root for the biggest collection of herbs and stiffs $200 million could buy.

Anyway, have a good weekend everybody. And be sure to check in on Sunday for Cheddar Ben's weekly recap.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Laguna Beach Season 3: Promote the Curse?

In 1996, the Yankees won their first championship in years. They were a young, fresh team, paced by a core of wily veterans. At the time, they were not as much hatable as they were a new concept to New York City: winning baseball, who knew?

Derek Jeter was a rookie. He was not yet a star, but it was clear that there was something truly special there. The Yankees team was not its greatest, but the core was there and clearly something special lied in the wake.

In season 1 of Laguna Beach, we were introduced to a fresh new concept: High school reality programming. People were as intrigued by the rare combination of cagey veterans Steven and LC as they were with up and comer Kristin.

Kristin was Jeter. She had staying power. She had the talent that would make her a star and build a franchise into a dynasty.



From 1998-2000 the Yankees created their own dynasty. They continued their formula of mixing homegrown talent with sound and often simple acquisitions.

From 1998-2000 the Yankees grew from being New York’s team to the team of the world. All of a sudden, every foreign country was equipped with Yankee-hat-wearing Daveman.

Derek Jeter emerged as the face of the game and led the Yankees to three straight titles, in one of the more impressive runs in recent baseball history. Everyone loved the Yankees.



Season 2 of Laguna Beach was similarly dominating. It saw Kristin Cavallari blossom into a superstar and lead a ship of young talent, Jessica and Talan most notably, in combination with some stellar veteran performances by Stephen and LC.

The amazing acquisition of bad boy Steven, the Roger Clemens of the show, put LB over the top. The show’s second season grew the franchise from a local but successful hit, to a national power. All of a sudden the nation and the world had caught on. Cavaleri made the cover of tabloids. LC had her spin-off.

Like with the Yankees of 2000, Laguna Beach became a phenomenon. Everyone loved them and everyone realized that if they can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

The Yankees 2001-present lost their mojo. They lost the sense of team and chemistry that made their late 90’s teams so dominant.

The Yankees brought in players from ever walk of life, creating a fantasy team for their millions of superficial fans. Players like Jason Giambi left their perfect settings to come to the Yankees just because they wanted a shot at something special.



Randy Johnson, a difference maker in his own right, forced a trade to the Yankees, hoping that he too could grab a piece of the pie, be a part of that Yankee magic that Jeter and co. had always talked about.

Then there was A-Rod: the most talented player in the game. He came to the Yankees and has since unraveled. Not even an MVP is enough for his fans. A perfect symbol of his team, A-Rod simply got too big. The Yankees acquired too many stars, and as a result, the bubble has burst.

This rise and fall is very similar to the Laguna Beach franchise. Season 3 premiered last night. While some old faces remained, the new cast resembled more of a fantasy team then a complete team.



The talent was too spread out. The bad girls, led by Kyndra, needed too much playing time. The good girls, fronted by the sweet but sneaky Tessa, were too pure and media friendly that you just knew they were full of shit (read Yankees left side of infield).

Of the males on the show, Cameron appeared to be the breakout; the surfer jock who came into his own as a senior.

The girls love him but he just doesn’t work. Much like A-Rod with the Yankees, Cameron is coming a little too late. There already was a dominant bad boy in season 2 in stand-out Jason.

The thought of another one in need of the spotlight doesn’t work. The bad boy department only has room for one star, much like the Yankees' left side of the infield, and unfortunately for Cam, that ship has sailed.



Not a lot works about season 3 of LB. There is simply too much talent spread out too thin. There is no core. There is no leader. Even the plot is too complicated.

Season 1 and 2 dealt with very simple stuff. Two girls like boy. Boy picks hotter girl. The next year he comes back but they have moved on. Pretty darn simple, yet oh so effective.

Already in season 3 we are seeing good girl vs. bad girl, rock bands, jocks, nerds. White girls, black girls, asian girls (though Y2k is a equal opportunity blog) and we were introduced to about 19 characters.

Who are all these people? Hell, the girl that introduces the show doesn’t even really seem to play a part. It would be like Cedric, the dbag, opening Season 2 of LB, and that, my friends, would be blasphemous.

Like the Yankees, Laguna Beach got too big. In the first couple of seasons the characters were pure and dare I say REAL. They didn’t see the paparazzi and magazine covers in their immediate future.



This season’s cast is quite the opposite. Each character knows that if they stand out, they can catapult to the A-list, much like Kristin, or even get their own show, like LC.

These kids have been preparing for this season for 2 years. They spent weeks not eating or throwing up what they had eaten to lose those 10 lbs that the camera adds so as to look perfect once shooting began.

This ain’t real, much like the Yankees just ain't real baseball.

I can see it now. Cami, the top heavy bad girl demanding her parents to let her transfer from near by OC High to Laguna Beach High, just because she wanted to be a part of the Yankees of reality high school television.



This season of LB will fail. There are too many egos wanting to grab too much of the pie. There aren’t enough team first characters there that just want to make a simple, winning reality show.

It’s really too bad. The pieces were all there, and the show had all the resources that you could ask for: a dream location, tons of money, and a glut of talent dying to be a part. But the show got greedy and now it will reap the consequences.

So will I watch the rest of Season 3? Every Wednesday

Like the Yankees, Laguna Beach will always be one of the best. There is simply too much going for the show that at the end of the day it will be able to compete. As I have said time and time again, as long as baseball is setup the way it is, the Yankees will never not be near the top.

In the same way, as long as this country has morons like myself, Laguna Beach will shine.

But it takes something more to be special. It takes something more to be the ‘98-’00 Yankees. And that special recipe has disappeared in the real Orange County. And it really is too bad.

Vaya con dios,

SM

Groupie Hoes and Baseball Pros

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. Busy day today so sorry if this seems a bit rushed.

As was the case yesterday, it's probably best that we don't talk too much about last night's game. I mean, what can you say really? The Mets haven't played this bad, haven't looked this overmatched since the first two games of the series against the Red Sox.

The good news is, we've got a lot less to prove to the Phillies. We had beaten them 8-of-12 coming into this series. We've completely outplayed them all year, and the last two days don't change that.

Sure, we're all somewhat concerned about Pedro, but the truth is I'm actually a little less concerned about him than everyone else. Yes, his numbers have been bad over the last three months, but the raw data belies the fact that he's had some excellent outings in that time.

In his last 10 starts, he's allowed 6 ER 3 times. He's also allowed 2 or less in 5 of those starts. He's been very inconsistent -- either very good or very bad.

In one of those starts where he got beat up, he was potentially injured (Monday against the Phils). In another, he was potentially injured and an emotional wreck (June 28 in Boston). In the third, well, he just got lit up (June 6 in LA).

Am I making too many excuses for the guy? Possibly. But to look at his numbers without realizing that he's been excellent at times (actually, more often than he's been bad) is to treat his case unfairly.

As for El Duque, you know, tough start. He got blasted but I don't think we should be too concerned; every pitcher has starts like that.

What does concern me somewhat is how prone he is to allowing runs in the first inning or two of a ball game. SNY had a stat last night showing that El Duque's ERA in the first two innings his last 4 starts was above 10. As bad as that figure was, it only got worse last night.

And it's problematic because of the little anecdote Gary Cohen shared last night about momentum in a playoff series. He brought us back to Game 4 of the 2000 World Series. The Mets had won Game 3 to bring the Series to 2-1.

How did the next game begin? With a homerun from Deej. Game 4 was a close finish (we lost 3-2), but any momentum generated by our Game 3 victory evaporated with one swing from Jeter leading off the game. If El Duque is going to start potential Games 3 or 4 this year, it would be preferable if he got his early inning issues under control.

But that's all I'm gonna say about the game last night. Wait, one more thing. Mr. Glass. The guy can rake. On a night when everything else went wrong, it was great to see the little guy have a career day.

Note, however, that the Mets are 0-2 in Reyes career days this year (last night and the game against the Reds when he hit for the cycle).

But let's get to the title of this post. I learned something today courtesy of the New York Post. After dauntlessly pursuing a scoop, Post scribe Maureen Callahan has news that even in today's post-feminist America there remains an abundance of young women who are willing to sleep with famous, extremely wealthy, generally well-built young celebrities.

"I do it for the self-esteem boost," says a 26-year-old Major League bicycle who asked Callahan to refer to her only as Melody, "her nom de groupie," to use Callahan's phrase.

Needless to say, none of this would be news if not for Paul Lo Duca's recent headline-grabbing trysts with leggy teenage co-eds. But in case we needed reminding, there's Selena Roberts' column in today's New York Times.

In that column, Roberts registers the same complaint with the Lo Duca probe that we have made on this site before. Specifically, that Lo Duca's cheating heart is as surprising to learn of as Callahan's revelation that young girls are taken with famous, extremely wealthy, generally well-built young celebrities.

"We know so much dirt about the saucy dishes in Lo Duca’s world, but so few details about the only dark part of his life that has public relevance: Does he have a gambling problem that could undo him, the Mets or the league?"

So what gives? Why is there so much information out there about Lo Duca's girlfriend habits and so little about his gambling?

There are two forces at play here. One, sex sells. The aforementioned leggy co-eds have graced the cover of the New York Post several times in the past week. The more leg the better.

The other possibility, which seems increasingly likely with each passing day, is that there is simply no dirt on Lo Duca when it comes to gambling.

The guy bets on horses, we know that. If he were racking up a series of gambling debts, I just have to think that word would have gotten out about it by now. We're what, 10 days into this all Lo Duca, all the time media cycle and still there's nothing?

There probably aren't a lot of people who feel bad for Lo Duca right now, but I guess I'm one of them. I think he's getting a raw deal by becoming the poster child for MLB infidelity, especially when you consider that, from virtually all accounts, 90% of major league ballplayers cheat on their wives. In case you're wondering, my source is Jose Canseco.

That isn't to say, however, that there are no redeeming features to this kind of journalism. After all, without Callahan's article, I would have continued in my ignorance of On The DL, which may soon become my second favorite website behind Yankees 2000.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Oh Pedro

(Double the content for you today. The first piece, by Sippy Momo, is about Pedro's three-month swoon. The second, by Cheddar Ben, is some good old-fashioned Yankee bashing about Derek Jeter's legitimacy as an MVP candidate. Enjoy.)

A funny thing happened this year. In a season where everything has been new, where Wright and Reyes have emerged as superstars and Beltran as the favorite for MVP, a season in which the bullpen has been spectacular and the rest of the rotation has pitched as expected, there is really one player that hasn’t played up to expectations.

That player is Pedro Martinez.

Pedro was everything we wanted and more in the month of April, when he went 5-0 on the strength of a 2.94 era. Along with Carlos Delgado, Pedro was the major reason that the Mets blasted out of the chute in 2006 and have since never looked back

As good as he was in April, May might have been Pedro's best month, even if you'd never know it by looking at his won-loss record. Pedro managed a 2.14 ERA, a return to his glory days of the late 90’s.

He was the best pitcher in the National League and 2nd in all of baseball to another oldie, Jose Contreras, who was unhittable for the first two months of the season, but like Pedro has since slowed down.

After May the numbers get very ugly. This was magnified at its worst in last night's 1 inning dud. Take a look at his monthly breakdown.

June 2-3 6.23
July 1-0 6.00
August1-1 5.65

For those too busy in their finance and law careers to do the math, we are looking at 4-4 with an ERA around 6.

Pedro has looked old and broken down. With every start there is a different minor injury that is nagging some part of Pedro’s diminutive body.

For years he was considered a freak of a nature. A man no more than 5’10, 165 lbs with a long arm rotation and a violent leg kick serving up 98 mph fastballs with perfect control. He was a power pitcher who was smaller than all the control pitchers.

The torque that he generated in his pitching arm generated an arm movement that is humanly impossible for 99.9% of the world.

It is for this reason that Pedro could once throw 99. It is for similar reasons that Lance Armstrong can outride every person in the world and LeBron James can jump 42 inches on a 240lb frame. He was simply a freak.

Over the last couple of years Pedro’s career has shifted. He has lost the freak that symbolized his early career and has been forced to evolve. Pedro has become a magician.

On top of his stuff being better, Pedro has always been smarter than hitters. At his best in 2006, Pedro could spot his 88-90mph heater and then use his secondary pitches to outsmart his opponents.

At times this season, Pedro was as good as he has ever been. He made batters look like fools to the point where you could just laugh. The swings we would see at his offspeed stuff would be embarrassing.

Not nearly as embarrassing as the swings we would see when Pedro was off. And this is not the good embarrassing.

The older Pedro’s success is much more dependant on his health. Pedro can no longer reach back and fire. In his old days he could reach back and fire 98 mph cheese whenever he needed to. That 98 is now 89 and that whiff is now a mash.

So we need Pedro perfect. We need every last screw in his body to feel great. In order for him to be able to use his brilliant pitching mind, we need him to rest his deteriorating pitcher’s body.

Which is why we shut this guy down.

His next important start will be somewhere around October 4th, Game 1 of the NLDS. Knock on wood, but we really don’t need this guy anytime between now and then.

For this reason, we do whatever it takes to get him back in October. We need 4-6 more starts out of this guy this year. Those starts may make every penny of his $54 mil look like a smart investment.

The Mets don’t have much of a shot in the playoffs without a dominant Pedro. Which is why we need to get this guy back when it counts.

So for now, we wait. We monitor his therapy, not his starts.

And then we try and find a Mets fan out there that could have predicted not only a 95 win season, but a 95 win season in which Pedro wins 9 games.

Hope and Pray.

VCD,

SM

Enter the Cheddar (36 Yankee-bashing Chambers)

Back with more, it's the Y2K contributor so nice they had to shoo him away twice. Except, for some reason, all those snide remarks and thorough beatings didn't work, and he's shockingly come back to stay. That's a public school education for you.

Cheddar Ben checking in from Morningside Heights, seemingly destined to join this invaluable site as a regular contributor. Look for my stuff at least twice per calendar week, including some material on Sunday for you weekend Mets fans and Yankee haters. It is, as Danny Tartabull once drunkenly confessed to me, a whole new ballgame.

I should probably begin by pointedly ignoring the events of last night. Oh, man, let's do that. The internet zonked out in my place, RCN's bootleg cable operation was on the fritz, WFAN was coming in as a French-language station dedicated to Quebecois separatist manifestos .... take your pick.

How'd the Amazins' do, anyway? As an aside, while one of the other boys will probably hit on some game-related stuff later today, I should say that I was extrordinarily dismayed to see the early AP report indicated that Pedro "felt the strain while warming up before the game." (Philly's Dan Gelston on the call).

Now, I don't see why the Mets would say such a thing if it weren't true, and given that, it's something of an indictment of the managerial staff's judgement.

These things are notoriously difficult to judge from afar, and there's going to be some tricky ego-juggling involved.

All the same, and giving the benefit of the doubt wherever applicable, it is indisputable that making sure Pedro is healthy for Game 1 of the NLDS should be THE priority for Omar, Willie, Rick and the gang heading forward. I don't think that's a controversial statement.

In that case, I don't see how you send Petey out to the mound at anything less than 100 percent unless it's absolutely necessary. That's just the nature of pitching injuries.

If it gets to September, and the Mets are, say, not 25 games over .500 and don't have a 14-game lead on the hapless Phils, then we can talk.

But if it's me, and it's August 14, Pedro needs to be humming like a Maserati on a fresh quart of Penzoil before I pencil his name into the lineup. It's just good policy.

But enough about the game. Taking a glance at the big picture for a moment, it's come to our attention that half of Y2K's mandate may have been slipping through the cracks a bit.

You know what part we're talking about -- peep the masthead. The bad cop part. The "Posada is a little bitch" shirt-wearing part. The intense Yankee bashing, dummy.

And that's a shame, because this has been a summer for Yankee bashing like no other.

There are almost a limitless number of angles at which you can sneeringly come at the Bronx Bombers these days -- a smorgasbord of suck, if you will (and I will). I mean, these are the days when a piece investigating the A-Rod bashing phenomenon leads off ESPN.com.

Yes, campers, it's the Golden Age of Yankee Hatred, and even while mercifully keeping the reigning AL MVP and the traitorous Unfrozen Caveman Centerfielder on the bench, the team-up/crossover possibilities are limitless.

Do you pair up the "Bobby Abreu, one of the best players in baseball, was roundly despised by his own fans" card with the "Kyle Farnsworth may be the biggest lunk on the planet" tactic?

Do you go with the high comedy of "Jason Giambi, baserunner" and the "Hideki Matsui has disgraced himself and his ancestors" canard?

Where does Randy Johnson's unpaid child support and Gary Sheffield's shameless stab at getting his 2007 option picked up (first base, indeed... who does this guy think he's kidding? Shef hasn't been a good teammate since the Brewers were in the American League, and not even then) fit in?

Let's of course not forget about Chien-Ming Wang's laughable strikeout rate, Scott Proctor's upcoming arm explosion, Mo Rivera's crappy restaurant, Sal Fasano's missing mullet and the human welfare state that is Carl Pavano.

All these topics merit additional exploration, and will receive it. But the topic I want to start with, and hopefully nip in the bud, is the "Derek Jeter for AL MVP" trial balloon floated yesterday by Joe Sheehan of Baseball Prospectus.

A writer I admire quite a bit, Sheehan went off the rails with this one, and if a guy as sensible as he is going over the edge, you'd better believe more are going to follow him like lemmings following a pinstriped remote-controlled car over an embankment.

The argument, such as it is, requires one to consider Jeter's extremely strong offensive season to date (conceded), his positional value, his improved defense and those legendary intangibles. I have problems with each of the last three items, and I'll take them in order.

To start, if you're going to give Jeter points for value based on positional scarcity, you can't plausibly not give even more credit to Minnesota's young catching stud Joe Mauer, who suits up in a role where offensive standouts are even rarer.

And Mauer is having a far better offensive campaign than Jeter, bidding to become the first AL catcher to lead the league in batting since the Yanks' own Bill Dickey (another little bitch, as luck would have it) back in '62. The consistency isn't there.

With defense, Sheehan cites an improvement in Jeter's glovework that no other observer has seen. Baseball Prospectus' fielding stats are in the distinct minority here, showing Jetes as having improved tremendously since 2003, up to the point of being decent last year and above-average in 2006.

Problem is, no other metrics see it that way, as described in an article by Dodger Thoughts' Jon Weisman back in February.

Sheehan may have to go with his company's figures, but the rest of us have loads of plausible deniability and our own eyes to tell us that Jeter's laughable range makes him enough of a liability to trip up any MVP campaign. If Tim Marchman, Larry Bowa and Michael Kay feel otherwise, tough.

Finally, 2006 may be remembered as the summer that the "Derek Jeter, leader of men" banner gets tossed in the dumpster.

I don't care if the guy playing to your right is the least likable teammate since Jack Parkman -- if you're the captain of the New York Yankees, it's your job to make sure that A-Rod doesn't lose his mojo.

Build him up, get him some Buddhist shit to block out the boos, pick out some nice new fabrics to cheer him up, I don't care.

Instead, Jeter runs a clubhouse where A-Rod gets thrown under the bus with regularity. Where Mike Mussina feels free to rip his third baseman to the Toronto media. Where the most talented player in the game today is underachieving by an unacceptable margin.

If these are your award-winning intangibles, you can have 'em back. I'll take Smokin' Joe Mauer to go along with NL MVP Carlos Beltran, and a six-pack of Yankee bashing for the forseeable future.

Until next time, bring da ruckus...

- Cheddar Ben

Woah Now, E

As years pass and my friends' resumes continue to grow, so too come the perks for the Sip. As an up and coming blogger, hip to the streets and cool with the ladies, you’d be amazed at the type of street cred that I carry with me everywhere I go.

So I was strolling down the sweet streets of SF when I spotted Kevin Connolly, the genius behind the perfectly casted “E,” the former tough guy/best friend of star Vinny Chase, filming a movie in between seasons of Entourage. I had a friend draw up his IMDB profile and found he was from Queens, so I figured, must be a Mets fan.

I approached him and told him about the site, even showing it to him thanks to SF's advanced WIFI network. To my luck, Kevin signed on and agree to give me a few minutes of his time.

You could sense my excitement from the beginning. That was before I found out that E was from Queens. Holy shit, a Mets fan…or so I thought.

Sip: How’s it going, E?
Kevin: It’s going well Sip, I just took my first look at the site and I gotta say I’m impressed.

Sip: Well thanks a lot man, as you know I’m a fan of the show.
Kevin: Well then, thank you too.

Sip: So E, I gotta say...
Kevin: Can you call me Kevin?

Sip: Oh. Sorry Kevin. When I found out you were from Queens I got really excited. It’s great to have a fellow Mets fan on board.
Kevin: Well actually Sip I’m a Yankee fan. Isn’t this a Yankees site?

Sip: I’m afraid you missed the boat on this one, E. You are from Queens right? And didn’t you talk about rooting for the Mets back during your childhood?
Kevin: Oh, yeah. Well I was a huge Mets fan as a kid. Back in the 80’s when they were winning I was a diehard.

Sip: Oh… so what happened?
Kevin: I guess in the 90’s I kind of lost interest in baseball when I started pursuing acting. Then the strike came and the Yankees got great so I kind of just jumped on board.

Sip: Interesting. And how do you feel that this loyalty has translated to your acting?
Kevin: Actually Sip, I consider myself to be a very loyal person.

Sip: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that, E. Just a little jab by a Mets fan
Kevin: It’s Kevin.

(I think he is starting to get upset.)

Sip: Oh, shit man I’m really sorry. As I said I love the show. I guess its hard for me to differentiate. Anyway, can you tell me what you like most about the show?
Kevin: Good question, Sip. I see it as sort of a Sex and the City for guys. A way for guys to bond through a group of 4 characters that each can somehow relate to.

Sip: That’s interesting. And what type of guy would relate to you?
Kevin: Well I play sort of a hard-nosed guy. I’m the backbone of the crew.

(This is where it gets a little bad, and I start to laugh)

Sip: With all due respect Kevin, you’re not the most imposing of people in person. How do they get you to play so large and imposing on screen?
Kevin: That’s mostly camera angles.

Sip: What are you anyway? 5’2?
Kevin: I’m 5’3.

Sip: Interesting. So how do you feel that your diminutive stature has played a role in the baseball teams that you support?
Kevin: Excuse me?

Sip: I wanted to know how you felt your height, you being so small, has affected what baseball team you root for. You know, the Mets in the 80’s and the Yankees in the 90’s?
Kevin: I understand the question. What exactly are you getting at?

(Yikes, note: I am a few cocktails in at this time)

Sip: My apologies, E. Tell me about your relationship with Nicky Hilton.
Kevin: Truth is, I’d rather not discuss my personal life.

Sip: Ok , well you gotta let me ask. How do you manage to (I make inappropriate hand gestures) when she is like 5’10 and you…well?
Kevin: Are you fucking serious? Who the fuck is this guy?

Sip: Woah, E. Take it easy. I’m just giving you a hard time.
Kevin: What’d I tell you about calling me E?

Sip: Shit man, I’m sorry.
Kevin: Fuck this, I’m outta here.

That is when Kevin jumped up and put on his shiny new Detroit Tigers hat.

Sip: Tigers fan now, huh E?
Kevin: Hey, Fuck you, my great uncle was from Detroit.

Sip: Ok, well it was great talking with you. And do me a favor.
Kevin: Yeah, what the fuck is that?

Sip: Tell Nicky I say 'what up.'

That is when it got a little ugly. E surged right at me. Never in my life did I feel so massive in my standard jewish 5’10, 180lb frame. I pressed my hand in his forehead as he attempted to hit me, instead punching the thin air in front of my chest.

This didn’t really go as planned.

But in some ways, I guess it did. I felt I owed it to the Y2K audience out there that turns on Entourage every Sunday, that cringes whenever they hear that little person speak.

As a disclaimer, let me apologize to my smaller audience out there. This is not a knock on you at all. This is more a knock on the worst-cast actor for one of the most easily castable shows that I have ever seen.

It always kind of just gets to me.

On that note, another series won. Magic number is 32. I checked the standings last night to see if there was value in throwing down some coin on a late September run by the Tribe.

And more importantly, I needed to see how the A’s were doing. I got them at over 89 with my 6th grade basketball coach for 100 pushups in public.

They will go as far as my boy Danny Haren can take them.

Vaya con dios,

Sippy Momo

Couple side notes:

I hit up the A’s-Drats game on Friday to see Kid K vs Action Dan, my two favorite young arms. Kazmir struck out 5 of the first 6. He was unreal.

Save one hanger to Bobby Kielty and the guy was pretty much unhittable. After the pitch, they showed him in the dugout. I have never seen someone look so upset. I love this kid. How great he would look in orange and blue.

Of equal importance. Anyone else hear that my boy Keanu got arrested for speeding near an airport? Pretty messed up shit.

I’m in pre-production for my 2008 hit, Keanu. A story about a Los Angeles cop who gets on the wrong bus only to go thru time to coach a softball team of young inner city youths against a team of bankrobbing surfers in training, with the world on the line. Keanu, 2008, be there.

Democracy in Action

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. I read a little something on Metsblog just now about a petition circling the Mets blogosphere asking the Mets to eliminate their alternate black jerseys.

The petition, which is strangely addressed to "Sports Fans" as opposed "The Wilpons", is available by clicking the title above.

"Bring back the only true colors of the New York Metropolitans.......Orange and Blue," the petition reads. "The Mets have to get rid of the black hats/helmets and jerseys. Please sign this petition, so we can show the Wilpons we want pinstripes at home and grey on the road, nothing else."

Wow....... that's a lot of periods.

Would you support the elimination of the Mets' alternate black hats, jerseys and socks?
	Yes.
	No.
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Y2K diehards may be aware that I'm not particularly fond of the black jerseys. I decidedly prefer the snow white uniforms or their pinstriped brethren. But that said, I like the black socks and black hats. I also particularly like the new batting helmet with shades of black and blue.

But that's just me. Some of you, I'm sure, prefer the black unis, which Todd Hundley dubbed the Mets' "gangster togs" upon their unveiling (yes, hard as it is to believe, they've been around that long). Others will want to sign the petition.

The bad news for this latter contingent is that no matter what faith they have in Howard Dean-style grassroots politicking, the machine supporting the black uniform is simply too powerful.

What do I mean? I mean that the deciding factor here isn't going to be an online petition, it's going to be sales at the cash register. Fact is, the black t-shirts and hats sell better than their blue 'n orange counterparts, and there's no amount of fan agitating that's going to convince the Wilpons to eliminate them so long as that's the case.

But that all said, I'm curious to see what our audience here at Y2K thinks about the matter. Let your opinion be heard and be sure to vote in our online poll.

- A.F.O.M.G.

New Goals

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. I'm feeling a bit saucy today on the heels of our first home sweep of the season and the 5-game winning streak we've put together.

Look at the calendar. Today is August 11. The Mets have built a 14-game lead in the NL East with a 69-44 record. We've got 49 games left to play.

For all you doubting Thomases out there who want to believe it’s never over until it’s over (I’m looking at you, Andruw Jones), allow me to submit the latest draft of my favorite statistic.

If the Mets play .500 ball the rest of the way, or slightly sub-.500 ball for argument’s sake, they would go 24-25 and end with a record of 93-69. Pretty f’ing good, eh?

What would it take for the phighting Phils to end up with 93 wins? Just a 38-11 mark down the stretch. Sorry boys and girls, neither is going to happen. The Mets won’t play sub-.500 ball, and the Phillies won’t all of a sudden morph into the Detroit Tigers.

But that all said, we’ve started hearing the “C” word bandied about lately. Complacency. Not that the Mets have been complacent. Hardly.

But there’s still 49 games left to play and with such a big lead, you could understand that the Mets run the risk of getting a little lax as the dog days of summer wind down.

Coming into the season, we all had a series of goals for this team, but I think we can sum up the overarching goals of the season as follows:

Goal No. 1 – make the playoffs any way we could, dethrone the Braves if possible.

Goal No. 2 – win our divisional series.

Goal No. 3 – win the NL Pennant.

Goal No. 4 – win the World Series.

Goals 2, 3 and 4 remain, but Goal No. 1 has pretty much been locked up. That means we’ve got 49 games left to play without any specific goals in mind.

With that in mind, I thought I would propose a series of new goals for our Mets to concentrate on in the final stretch of the regular season.

New Goal No. 1 – Compile the best record in baseball.

Sounds crazy, right? I admit it’s a lofty goal. Somehow the Detroit Tigers have played to a 76-38 record so far this year. I don’t follow the American League particularly closely, but how on earth it’s possible I’ll never know.

I do know two things, however. One, the American League is better, statistically if not in purity of heart, than the National League. Two, the Tigers’ remaining schedule could not possibly be easier than the Mets’.

Some people would say the goal for our season should be 100 wins. I’m all for that, and I think a 31-18 mark is certainly possible the rest of the way.

But look, we’re only 6.5 games behind the Tigers for the best record in MLB, 6 games back in the loss column. We don’t play them directly of course, and that hurts our chances.

It’s important to me, A, that the Mets play hard the rest of the year and, B, do whatever they can to dispel this idea of American League superiority.

It will exist on some level no matter what, but if we can march into October saying we had the best record in baseball, National League or no National League, that makes a statement.

New Goal No. 2 – Carlos Beltran for NL MVP.

OK, OK, so I know a lot of you probably want David Wright to win it. I understand that. He’s a homegrown guy, and he’s been so clutch all season.

Look, I love D-Wright. I shook his hand on Monday and haven’t washed it since – no easy feat.

But the reason I want Beltran to win it is because it would be the final validation of how far he’s come from last year.

And how far has he come? Well, here’s a sampling of what was written on this website about Beltran in the past year.

November, 29, 2005 (Sippy Momo): In 2005, [Marlon] Anderson might have been more valuable to the Mets than Carlos Beltran.

December 29, 2005 (A.F.O.M.G.): As good as Cliff [Floyd] was in 2005, Carlos Beltran was bad… Is Beltran ever going to be worth the money we paid him? Probably not. He’s just not that absolute top-tier kind of player as far as I can tell.

I won’t argue with what Sip wrote, but my god was I wrong.

There was an article recently about how Beltran has looked every bit like the franchise player we signed him to be, and it really is true. The guy is on pace for 49 homeruns and 144 RBI, both of which would be single-season records for a Met.

Whether he wins the MPV award or not won’t change how great he’s been for the Mets in 2006, nor is it necessary in order for the fans to truly embrace him.

He may never get the same ovation that Mike Piazza got this past week, but we’ve come a long way from those words me and Sip wrote last winter, or from the first week of the season when Beltran was getting booed relentlessly (to give myself a little credit here, I never booed the guy).

An MVP award would just be the cherry on top.

New Goal No. 3 – Paul Lo Duca, keep your head above water.

For a guy who says he hates Bob Raissman, I find that I’ve given him a lot of credit on this site. I have to do so again today.

Raissman’s column about the media coverage surrounding Paul Lo Duca’s divorce in today’s Daily News hit the nail on the head. I could quote from the article (it’s available by clicking the title above), but basically it boils down to one question: Why is this a front page story?

Look, the gambling thing is legit. If Lo Duca is doing something illegal and some Mafiosi is gonna come break Paulie’s thumbs, that’s a big story.

But come on. The guy is going through a divorce. He’s got a younger girlfriend, but she’s of age and her parents were aware of the relationship. He’s not the first guy who ever got a divorce, not the first guy who ever dated a younger chick, and definitely not the first guy to commit adultery.

I realize it’s a story, but I think it’s pretty sad that the only thing keeping Lo Duca off the front page for a fifth consecutive day is the imminent threat to our way of life posed by would-be Muslim extremists.

Reporting on it is one thing, but around Day 3 I began to wonder if maybe Krista Guterman wasn’t the daughter of the editor of the Post’s college roommate or something.

So Paulie, keep your head up. You’ve been a big part of this team this year and we need you focused heading into the playoffs. Keep your chin up, guy.

* * * * *

Anyway, that about does it for me. Before I go I’ve gotta throw a quick congratulations to B.O.A.F.O.M.G. and Miss Bravisimo, who got engaged on Wednesday. I couldn’t be happier for you both.

- A.F.O.M.G.

The Monster!

(Note: Double the content for you today. The first piece, by Sippy Momo, is about Mike Piazza's return to Shea and the magic that unfolded last night. The second, by guest columnist Cheddar Ben, compares Paul Lo Duca's current controversy with Piazza's several years ago. Enjoy.)

There is nothing worse in sports than when the WRONG thing happens.

In the 2000 World Series, Bernie Williams calmly drifted back on a Mike Piazza blast to centerfield, lifted his glove, and wrapped his glove around what amounted to a long, loud out, thereby securing the Yankees a World Series championship, delivering Sip some intense heartache, and making all Mets fans ask why.

Before the 2000 World Series I wrote a 7-page mission statement to my group of Met friends about why if there is a god the Mets would win.

This was good vs. evil

Rich vs. poor.

Underdog vs. Favorite.

If this were a movie, the Mets would walk into the rich tradition of Yankee stadium, overwhelmed and intimidated, only to come together at the end behind their fearless leader, steal the series, give people hope and give any person with a love for the game chills.

Imagine Rudy never getting on the field at Notre Dame

Or Parkman taking Vaughn deep at the end of Major League II.

These are just too wrong to fathom.

In simplest words, when things go wrong in sports they are truly terrible.

To the contrary, when the right thing happens, the thing that everyone hopes and prays will, we get inspired. It is this reason that we sweat thru game after game, season after season.

On June 30, 2000 I sat there with AFOMG and my pop Old Chip in the last section of the upper deck. This was Mets vs. Braves. We were facing our nemesis, the Braves, and their uber-villains, Chipper Jones and John Rocker.

The script was set.

The Mets went down 8-0. Kevin Millwood dominated as the underdog Mets looked like they didn’t belong. Then all of a sudden it happened. Hope kept us in our $12 dollar shit seats. Hope gave the Mets their first bit of legs and the Braves bullpen an abnormal bout of wildness.

All of a sudden the Mets were back in it. With every AB, I could hear a Jerry Goldsmith orchestrated piece getting louder in my head.

Chills ran through my body as I high fived my best friend and hero, my father.

Then, it happened. Mike Piazza, the Mets hero, savior, leader and star came to the plate with 2 on with the Mets down 1.

For years everything had gone wrong for the Mets. Just 8 months earlier we watched our season end on a bases loaded walk. All I felt was negativity.

Until that night.

Piazza came to the plate to the sweet sounds of heavy metal that amped up Shea like nothing you have ever seen. We all hoped and prayed that he could come through. Our hero making the biggest play at the biggest time.

And then a funny thing happened Something that we never really had seen before. That great thing actually happened.

Monster went yard. He jacked one off of Terry Mulholland to put the Mets up 10-8. He rounded the bases and pumped his fist creating an electricity at Shea that I had never in my life experienced.

Not even Armando could blow this one. Everything was just too right. It was just too beautiful. It was a movie-like ending. It restored my faith that something good could ever happen, that my team might actually win. I hugged my dad, high-fived AFOMG, and for that moment everything was just perfect.

That was one of the best moments of my life. It was everything right in baseball, right for the Mets, my favorite team and main hobby.

These last two days have just been the same.

For two nights of somewhat meaningless Mets baseball I have had chills. This is because the right thing has again happened.

This was Mike Piazza’s return. My cousin and AFOMG among others called me weeks in advance to try and get me to come back. We all knew the magnitude of these games. This was the player that restored our franchise. He made my favorite thing in the world better for 8 seasons. He was our hero and he was coming.

Now a little older and a mere glimpse of the star he once was, Monster walked into Shea.

Tuesday night he was greeted by a chill-inducing standing ovation. Mets fans handled this perfectly. It was a true showing of respect and love for a player that deserved that much and more.

If you were to ask me to write a storybook for this series this is what I would write. The Mets win, Piazza receives the biggest standing ovation imaginable and then goes on to have the game of his life, only to come up just short enough at the end to allow the Mets to win, like somehow he wanted it to happen.

Wednesday night I saw this storybook script play out in real life.

Pedro Martinez stepped off the mound for the Monster’s first AB, giving the crowd a chance to once again shower him with love. This was also Pedro paying his own respect, to the greatest hitting catch of all time and a future Hall of Famer.

Then Monster did it. The gods shined down on him and Piazza emerged as the hero. He mashed two yokes out of the pitcher-friendly Shea Stadium against the best pitcher of his era. He dominated the park that he had dominated for so many years.

There wasn’t a person in the world that didn’t want to see this happen.

Then the 8th inning came. All of a sudden this game meant something and Mets fans needed something different out of the Monster. We needed him to slow down.

So what does Monster do? Again, you couldn’t have drawn it up better.

Monster gave an Aaron Heilman fastball a ride. Off the bat it looked like it may be out and all of a sudden our balls sunk into our stomach. But then, as in the 2000 World Series, a center fielder drifted over, settled under the ball and let it sink into his mitt. Piazza was out.

Piazza claimed it was the temperature that kept his ball in the park.

I’m going to disagree. This was magic. The same thing that makes us love being sports fans -- the hope for that one perfect moment -- is what made Piazza hit a ball hard enough that he scared us and we remembered just how great he was, but just short enough to allow the Mets to win the game.

Mike is a Met. He loves the Mets and we love him.

He didn’t want to beat us and we didn’t want to let him. What we did want, though, was to see him be great again.

And great he was.

Welcome home, Mike.

I look forward to making my first return to Cooperstown since I was 4 years old the day that you're inducted.

Vaya con dios,

SM

A Tale of Two Scandals

What's up everybody, it's Cheddar Ben here, your moderately friendly Y2K correspondent formerly of the upstate persuasion but now holding down Broadway at 110th Street.

The move went fine, thanks for asking. A little hectic, of course. But one of the clear benefits of being in the city was being able to hop on the 7 train to watch Los Mets take on the San Diego Padres last night at Shea. This as opposed to the bizarre and truly lamentable MLB.TV blackout rules keeping the Amazins off the airwaves and internet in Buffalo.

So, clear advantage, 110th Street.

It was, of course, the second night of Mike Piazza's return voyage to Queens (three days only!), and a momentous one at that.

Yet again, the old-new dichotomy illustrated by A.F.O.M.G. yesterday was on display, with the added oomph of a valuable home Pedro start to boot.

For the second straight night, Mets fans showered their visiting former catching hero with copious strings of adulation, and then cheered their team as it showed the San Diegans how pennant-winning ball clubs win close games.

I'm sure plenty of you saw this whole thing play out, and it was splendid.

But there was another, more subtle dynamic running through the evening as well, one that shows in stark terms the vast gap that exists between a the problems that descend on a winning ball club and those that plague a losing outfit.

And as with so many of these things, you can assign blame or credit to the New York Post.

I mean, when you're running hot, you're running hot, and there's a trickle-down effect at work. No man can dodge the New York media effect fully -- that's asking too much.

But as the Post demonstrated yesterday morning, it can come at you in different ways. Maybe I'm crazy, but I'm not sure that Michael Joseph Piazza will remember Wednesday, August 9, 2006 all that fondly.

Against the loss, there were the two memorable home runs and a near-miss on a third (though I'm convinced Pedro grooved the first one as a token of appreciation), not to mention the constant applause and rare road curtain call, which the sentimental Pedro, fresh off his return to Boston, was certain to appreciate.

That's a lot of love to be outweighed.

But on the other hand, there was current Mets backstop Paul Lo Duca being exposed -- outed, you might say -- on the front page of the New York Post (link available by clicking the title above).

And for what? For what crime against god and country was Lo Duca indicted in newsprint? Apparently, banging a hot 19-year-old co-ed from Long Island. And the band played on.

Oh, Mike. Life is just not fair. It certainly wasn't for the leader of the 2002 Mets. Most of you are old enough to remember when a superstar Mike, the king of Shea, was battered from here to Sunday by allegations that he was a deeply closeted homosexual, a feeding frenzy engineered by Rupert Murdoch's finest (not a compliment) tabloid.

These accusations, true or not, haunted Piazza for the better part of two years. Unintentional comedy foamed up like suds on a washing machine, predicated upon an unproven and sordid premise.

It wasn't the media's finest moment, to be sure. In short, the result was thousands of column inches of humiliating gossip, the famous "I'm not gay" press conference, a possible marriage of convenience to Playboy hottie Alicia Rickter, pretty much the works.

This was a surefire Hall of Famer being put through an essentially unprecedented wringer, all for sport.

This stuff even followed him to Mike Piazza Night at Shea. You can't forget it. June 18, 2004, a ceremony to mark the slugger's record-breaking 352nd home run as a catcher. Johnny Bench, Yogi Berra, Pudge Fisk, Gary Carter, and A.F.O.M.G.'s nemesis Ivan Rodriguez are on hand to honor the foremost of their ilk.

Mikey is cheered to the rafters, presented with multiple awards and a shiny Rolex. But what does the clubhouse, led by captain John Franco (grinning like an idiot the whole time, natch), give their guy as a heartfelt gift on this historic day? A bottle of pink wine.

Honestly, it's just not fair.

But that's how good it is to be on a winning ball club. Everyone faces the music in their time. With the Mets 13.5 games up, the soon-to-be-divorced Lo Duca's punishment was being linked in the press with a slamming teenager, photo accompanying.

Getting called "a two-timing scum" probably hurt. But there's degrees of these things. Check the quotes: "'I thought he was cute, too,' the teen said. … She said Lo Duca then approached her and her friend, and the trio partied until 3 a.m. … The teen even dedicated part of her myspace.com Web page to Lo Duca - and posted a sexy photo of her perched on his lap at The Coyote bar in Island Park."

I mean, you've got to tip your cap. Unless you're Piazza, in the middle of a resurgent 2006 campaign (.296/.353/.521 before Wednesday), and get to come back in the middle of this comparative lovefest.

I can only imagine him picking up the paper in his hotel room yesterday morning, seeing this spread, crumpling the rag with a quickly reddening fist and screaming, to no one in particular, "You call that gossip?" Maybe the maid walks in during the tirade. That would be amusing.

And you have to think -- if the 2002 Mets were leading the NL East at the time of the Post's "scoop," might everything have not been different?

If there had been actual, meaningful baseball to be played in Shea way back when, wouldn't it have been easier to shake off all the gay rumors as a sideshow, instead of them mutating into a twisted main event?

Doesn't the success Lo Duca and Co. are enjoying provide quite a bit of cover on that front, given that the public's attention isn't in the gutter at the moment, and won't have to be until after the playoffs are over?

In effect, wasn't Piazza paying for the sins of Roger Cedeno and the gang back in '02, and doesn't he continue to pay for them to this day?

I think the answer is yes on all counts. Not that many people get a free pass. But for many reasons, Wednesday showed how good it is to be on board with the 2006 New York Mets. Being an All-Star catcher with skeletons in the closet (sorry) has never been so easy.

Keep up the good fight,

Cheddar Ben

The Moster Is Out of the Cage, and Back Where He Belongs

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. So you all know what this post is supposed to be about. It's supposed to be about the man, the myth, the Monster, Mike Piazza.

The man who snapped our beloved franchise out of its mid-90s rut and made the Mets relevant again.

And I promise you this post will be about that, but first I've gotta spend a little time talking about the parking situation at Shea Stadium.

The parking situation at Shea is absolutely abysmal, and it's only going to get worse. It wasn't always this way, but construction on the new Mets ballpark has wreaked havoc upon the parking lot, particularly in the area beyond the center field fence.

We all love the comfort and convenience of driving to the game, but I'm here to tell you that unless you're certain there will be less than 30,000 people at the ballpark, going in the car just doesn't make sense.

Let me put it to you this way. Me and B.O.A.F.O.M.G. rolled off the highway between 7:05 and 7:10. I did not get to my seat until just before 8, probably like 7:55 p.m.

In between, I crawled through standstill traffic to a parking lot at the Arthur Ashe tennis center. I then took a bus a little ways (transport courtesy of Fred Wilpon) and had to go it on foot for about the equivalent of four city blocks. It was an absolute nightmare.

So the parking situation at Shea sucks right now, and between the impending U.S. Open and further construction at Shea, it figures to only get worse.

Moral of the story? Drive only if you have a season parking plan. Get your ass on the subway like the rest of the rabble and console yourself with the thought, hey, at least I'm doing something for the environment.

But back to Piazza. Needless to say, I didn't see the video tribute to the Mets legend. Nor did I see his first at-bat. I was still in my car, listening to Howie Rose on the radio as Mike Piazza doffed his helmet and, evidently, misted up as the crowd gave him a 70-second standing ovation.

I wish I'd seen it in person, but I suppose that's what YouTube, Mets.com or SNY are for. And at the end of the day I can't get too bent out of shape because I missed it. The electricity was still in the air when Piazza came to bat in the 3rd, and then again in the 6th, and then once more in the 8th, even with the game on the line and the home team a base hit away from a tie ballgame.

Each time he came to the plate he was greeted with a standing ovation and a rousing cheer of "Mike Pi-azza (clap-clap-clapclapclap)." It reminded me of how the crowd used to cheer that much harder when his name was announced back when he was a Met, only his reception now was much, much more.

It was the reception reserved for wayward former heroes who have finally come home. It was a reception 7.5 years in the making. A reception built on countless iconic moments from the franchise's most iconic figure since Doc Gooden or Tom Seaver, depending on your perspective.

Really, it was a reception built upon the shared history of Mets fans. I mean, we've all got our favorite Piazza moments, don't we? What was yours? Was it the home run against Trevor Hoffman? How about the many home runs against Roger Clemens? Or maybe it was the bomb he hit in the first game in New York after 9/11 to beat the Braves?

For me, the 9/11 home run takes the cake easily. But I'm willing to bet that if it wasn't that, or if it wasn't one of the ones I listed, you've got yours. You've got the whole thing hardwired in your brain, the entire sequence plotted from situation when he came to bat to the trajectory of the ball in flight.

And last night the fans showed that they hadn't forgotten those moments, and that they never would. Just as they stuck with Piazza through the hitting streaks, the slumps, the pennant chases, and, god help us, questions about his sexuality, so too are they sticking with him now.

After the game, a humbled Piazza tried to put the experience in to words, but understandably, even an intelligent ballplayer like him struggled to do so.

"It was just one of those amazing moments that I can't explain in sports," Piazza said. "You just don't see that a lot. For them to give me that privilege and honor is something I can't explain. The people were amazing."

And on a night in which Mets fans paid respect to their past, I couldn't help but find it altogether fitting that David Wright and Carlos Beltran featured so prominently in the Mets' 3-2 win.

Those two are the guys who are here to pick up where Piazza left off. They're the faces of the franchise now. And when Wright cracked that single to left field to score Beltran, who touched home plate as he passed Piazza, it seemed to me that everything had resolved itself most appropriately.

Piazza heard his cheers and everyone in the stadium got goosebumps. Wright went 3-for-4 and drove home the winning run. Beltran went 3-for-4 and scored the winning run. The Mets won the ballgame. One era has ended and another has begun.

You really couldn't ask for much more.

Except maybe better parking.

- A.F.O.M.G.

The Best $175 I've Ever Spent

(Note: Two pieces for you today. The first, by A.F.O.M.G. appears here and is about last night's Players Choice Club event featuring several members of the New Mets. The second, by Sippy Momo, appears immediately below and is about the hungriest, most exciting team in the NBA, the New York Knicks.)

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. So I've been glowing since about 9:30 p.m. last night, and no, it's got nothing to do with Ricky Ledee.

Why? Well, the short answer is that last night was everything I was hoping for and more. You see, normally Monday nights without a ball game are a ton of salt. Hell's Kitchen is amazing, but other than that, the only thing a Monday night without a Mets game has going for it is that it isn't Monday morning.

But last night was different. That's because I plunked down 175 big ones in order to attend the Players Choice Club benefit at the Beacon Restaurant, where David Wright, Cliff Floyd, Jose Valentin, Julio Franco, Paul Lo Duca and Xavier Nady were scheduled to attend.

Xavier couldn't make it, Julio was MIA and Paulie evidently spent his first day of post-marital acrimony at the track. In place of Nady stepped the young and fiery Lastings Milledge, in place of Lo Duca was yesterday's cover of the New York Post, and in place of Julio stood the old and bloated personage of Bobby Bonilla.

What on earth Bobby Bo was doing there is anybody's guess, but perhaps it has something to do with the fact that we're paying the guy $2 million every year for the next 20 years simply because he agreed to let us cut him (or something like that).

Either way, Bonilla looked horrible, and that pulled pork last night couldn't have helped. I didn't even recognize him until he gave the patented frown that used to accompany every strikeout or error he committed.

You know the one, the one where his mouth assumes an almost impossible downward arc and he tries to look like he doesn't notice the booing but on the inside you know it's eating up his soul? That one.

But the night wasn't about Bobby Bo, who went largely unnoticed by the crowd of Mets devotees. It was about the New Mets, and that's where Cliffy, Valentin, Lastings and D-Wright got into the act.

Cliff, Lastings, and Valentin were there from the get-go. My observations of each and are as follows:

1. Cliff Floyd.

The man is huge. Not taller than me necessarily (although possibly), but just absolutely ripped. You put him in a room with a bunch of dudes like me, a bunch of reporters, and a bunch of dads who are there so that their kids can see their heroes, and a guy like that is really gonna stand out.

Maybe it's because he wears his uniform baggy but I had never thought of him as being as jacked as he is.

I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but I was totally star struck when I saw him there. He seemed like a good guy, he shook hands with everyone who approached him, but I couldn't bring myself to say hello. On a night of few regrets, that one stands out.

2. Jose Valentin.

Next!

No, just kidding (well, kind of). I didn't approach Valentin either. He had his family there and while he seemed quite affable, it just wasn't a high priority for me to meet him. I considered mentioning that he lives in the same building as a friend of mine, but I thought that would just creep him out.

There was an amusing moment early on while Valentin was filming a commercial for MLB or the Players Choice Club, and the director had trouble getting him to say his lines in Spanish.

Jose speaks pretty good English so it was probably just a matter of noise in the room, but hearing the director shout "Say it in Spanish!" over and over again while Jose kept saying "What?" was amusing enough.

3. Lastings Milledge.

Ahh, Lastings. Thrilledge showed up sporting a diamond-encrusted cross in place of the large wooden one we became so familiar with in his Major League debut, and the same Latina biscuit who accompanied him in his limo ride on that installment of "Next Stop Shea".

Maybe it was that he's so new to the league or that he's younger than I am, but for whatever reason, I didn't feel nervous approaching Lastings for a picture. He was a little cold in his reception, but he smiled for the picture, and now that picture adorns my facebook.com page. I'm buying.

4. David Wright.

Hmm, who am I forgetting? Bobby Bo, check. Jose Valentin, right.

Oh of course, the Prince of the City, the man one of my new acquaintances referred to as Elvis, David Wright.

Word that D-Wright would be late spread quickly. I showed up shortly after 6, and by 6:20 I had heard that Wright wouldn't arrive until 7:40. When he did, the entire room erupted. The men started applauding, the women started cooing, one biscuit through her underwear -- the guy was a rock star.

Would that I were 23 years old, played professional baseball, and stood to make $55 million over the next 6 years! Well, one out of three ain't bad.

Anyway, it was bedlam when Wright sauntered in, and then again when the line began to form for pictures to be taken. Unlike the process with Lastings, Cliff, and Jose, the picture-taking process with Wright was quite formal. He stood at the top of a small stairway and people waited on a lengthy line.

Me, I hung by the bar with my new buddies (I might consider calling them colleagues, but that probably wouldn't be fair to them), and waited for the line to slim down. Then I made my approach.

When my turn came, I hopped up the steps, gave the guy a solid handshake (no dead fish, thank god), and asked him if he could teach me the handshake that he and Mr. Glass do. He laughed in a way that seemed to suggest that he'd heard that one before, but still, he was as nice as we've all been led to expect. The line for pictures was really quite long but Wright stood there and smiled for everyone who wanted one.

As I stood next to this New York icon, I couldn't help but think of how horribly depressing it was that he was only 8 days my senior. The world is truly that guy's oyster.

Bloggers Summit.

So meeting the players was great, but just as exciting for a fan like me was the chance to meet and talk baseball with some of the Mets blogosphere's finest.

I spoke at length with Matt Cerrone of Metsblog (as if he needed the introduction), Joe McDonald from New York Sports Day, Mark Healey from Gotham Baseball, as well as a guy named Dave who writes the profiles on the backs of baseball cards for Topps.

Having the opportunity to hear their gossip and just generally talk baseball with these guys who know so much more about the Mets than even a diehard like me does was really a great experience.

For his part, Cerrone will be part of a panel discussion at the 92nd Street Y on the Upper East Side on Wednesday, August 16. The guy easily ranks as one of the nicest people I've ever met, so if you can make it out, show up and throw some support his way.

Anyway, that about does it for my recap of the Players Choice Club event. The food was tasty, the drinks were part of the package, and I got to meet the Mets and some of the men who cover them. It was without question the best Monday night without a Mets game since Jack Bauer got his shit jacked by the Chinese.

- A.F.O.M.G.

NEW KNICKS!!!

The New York Knickerbockers, the one team in sports richer than the Yankees, made a huge splash today. They used their famous arena, juggernaut cable station and often inebriated owner to lure one of the biggest free agents on the market to the garden.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present the newest Old Knick. Jared Jeffries.

The Knicks STOLE Jared Jeffries away from the Wizards for 5 years and 30 million dollars.

Beyond his average to above-average defense, Jeffries brings his imposing 6.1 PPG, 4.9 RPG career numbers to a Knicks front court already loaded with talent.

Can you imagine the hype around Knicks camp in Charleston, SC when that first clash occurs?

Lebron vs. Melo.

Better.

Jordon vs. Magic.

Still better.

I’m talking Jared Jeffries vs. Renaldo Balkman.

You may remember Balkman, the 6’8 small forward with minimal offensive skills, instead known primarily as a defender and a hustler.

In spending a 1st round pick to secure this 4th round talent, the Knicks were telling Balkman, their fans and their team that they wanted this kid to be involved.

This is why the decision to sign a player who plays the exact same position and does the exact same thing makes so much sense.

We have to challenge this kid. We need to tell Balkman that there isn’t going to be one talentless-but-athletic small forward on our team, now we have two -- and this guy played in the Big Ten!

For the second straight year, the Knicks mastered the mid-level exception, a rule that allows a team to sign a free agent at a starting salary that begins at the league average, even if that team is over the salary cap.

After fattening up their middle with last year’s mid-level exception signee, the uber-talented and never appetite shy Jerome James, using this year’s mid level to sign a player of Jeffries’ caliber makes for some very exciting times in Gotham.

What’s even more exciting is how this move will effect the Knicks backcourt.

Strapped with the $40,000,000 duo of winners Stephon Marbury and Steve Francis, the Knicks already had a huge edge over teams looking to defend and pass the ball. They simply wouldn’t know how to handle our guards.

What has me more excited though is the future log jam at the 1-2 spots. With Jalen Rose - forced to shift to the 2-spot with these exciting recent acquisitions -- and the pass-first/3- point-chucking- second Quentin Richardson also looking for time at a wing spot -- the Knicks feature a $70,000,000 bunch of team-oriented college superstars.

I mean, who is going to step up and take a shot from that bunch?

And then we go to my main man, former dunk legend Nasty Nate Robinson. This guy has energy, fire, and most important is the 2.0 APG he brings to the table. That number should go down this year with the cluttering of selfless backcourt mates that will likely steal time from the young superstar in the making.

An unfortunate truth of playing for the endlessly talented New York Knicks.

As you can see guys, I am fired up. There is a ton to be excited about in regards to this upcoming season.

But it is the acquisition of Jeffries that really has me oozing for November.

Said Steve Francis, “Signing Jared Jeffries showed a real commitment to winning.” Indeed, Francis is right, as Jeffries has played an integral role as the 5th option on a Wizards team that has dominated the eastern conference over the last couple of years.

The Knicks recommitment to excellence is obvious.

Greg Kite, Brian Quinett, Eddie Lee Wilkens and of course my favorite player as a kid, Johnny Newman, are all smiling from their suite at MSG.

These truly are, the New Knicks.

It’s not just in baseball. At the Garden, next year is also now.

VCD,

SM

Exploring the New Deals, John Maine and the Real Lord of the Rings (Note: Those Movies are Dumb)

I didn’t get to watch too much of last night’s Mets game. My buddy Max suggested, over an afternoon BBQ, that I throw down a unit on Sunday night’s Hall of Game between the Raiders and the Eagles.

I can’t say I really hesitated. My opposition would suggest that this is preseason football, the starters only play about a quarter and no one cares.

I couldn’t agree more.

But this was about something more. This was doing something that I do because it was a symbol of something I love.

Is anything really different about New Year’s Eve? We all eat sleep and use the bathroom the same. But because we are celebrating a new year, we all go out drunk foolin to celebrate.

Well I was celebrating the new season, the return of gambling season - NFL football thru college basketball. Having sat out the last 5 months I was antsy. so I threw down on the Raiders +2.5.

My buddy Danny D had some rational. There was the Madden HOF factor.



There was Art Shell’s return; Al Davis being in attendance and most importantly, Andy Reid being too good of a coach to care.

Most importantly, though, they were the Raiders playing in the first game of the season and they weren't the Eagles.

That is why I missed most of the Mets game.

What I did see out of the Mets were two huge things.

The first one is obvious. John Maine is on fire. I talked last month about his heavy fastball and what I have noticed since then is that Maine doesn’t really have a dominant second pitch.


He relies on his fastball as both a setup pitch and an out pitch. He has been effective, specifically late in counts, because he is getting hitters to chase his high fastball, out of the strike zone.

I still think it is way too premature to say much about this kid. Yeah he once had the hype and of course he has looked great.

But where do we put him in October? Are you comfortable having him throw Game 3 over Hernandez and Trachsel, because right now, I’m not.

One thing that has me oozing in excitement is the emergence of Royce Ring. Acquired in the 2003 pillage of the Old Mets, Ring was the prize package in a July trade with the White Sox for Met dud Robbie Alomar.

As always, with young lefthanded pitching prospects, my buddy Nails pulled out the lube and his baseball glove and then ten minutes later sat down on his computer to do some extensive research.

Ring’s out pitch was his changeup, much like then-Met lefthanded stud, John Franco. Oops.

Like Franco, Ring struggled. He struggled for three years, floating between Shea and Norfolk.

This year things have apparently changed, as Ring has discovered the potential that scouts saw in him.

This could not have been more apparent than in Ring’s 7th inning showdown with Phillies slugger Ryan Howard. As we have seen over this series and throughout the season, Howard is a monster. The Phils traded Jim Thome to Chicago to make sure Howard could play full time and he has rewarded them big time, leading the NL in mashes of the dong with 38.


Last night, in an 8-1 ballgame Ring was out there to face Howard. Not only did he strike out the big fella but he made Howard look terrible. Howard chases slider out of the strike after slider out of the strike zone.

He didn’t even stand a chance.

As good as Pedro Feliciano has been this year and as great as it was to give him daps in the bathroom of a Fenway Park pool hall, I don’t want to see Pedro 2.0 out there against the big lefty. Come October we could see Jim Edmonds, Adam Dunn, and Griffey Jr. among others. We need a guy that can get that out late in games.

While this was only one time, it sure was convincing. This will be something to keep your eye on.

Two more things we will keep our respective eyes on over the next 6 years will be Jose Reyes and David Wright. The All-Star left siders were both signed to contract extensions this past week, Reyes for 4 yrs/24 mil and Wright for 6/55.


Happy Will was his usual happy but analytical self in both deals.

In both deals, I think everything was sort of just fair.

With Reyes, we get the guy for his first 7 years of big league service (one year of free agency.)

My guess with arbitration is that Reyes would have gotten 3-4 mil in ’07, 5-6 in ’08, 8-9 in ’09 and then on the free agent market, with Rafael Furcal setting the bar, Reyes would get around 11-12.

Over 4 years, that’s somewhere between 27-31 million dollars over the 4 years. We got him for 24. But now, if Mr. Glass ever breaks down, he is set for life.

With Wright, we have him for 6 years and a club option for a 7th, taking him through his 8th or 9th year in the show.

Wright’s projected salaries without an extension would look like:

’07: 450K
’08: 4-5 mil
’09: 8 mil
10: 10-11 mil
11: 15-18 mil
12: 15-18 mil
Total: 52.45-60.45mil

Yeah, I think Wright would get Beltran money. Truth is he deserves more. We got Wright at pretty much market value for him, 6 years and 55 mil.

The one question with Wright is timing, mainly was now the right time?

The answer is yes and no. Now is the right time from an organizational standpoint, a PR standpoint, and a D-Wright standpoint.

Signing Reyes and Wright in the same week is a good thing. It is a sign that these are our two guys, our leaders and we want them both.

The move brings optimism to Shea a week after the Mets failed to land a big name at the trade deadline.

And finally, now D Wright is a Met. He saw their commitment to him and now our superstar is happy.

The bad news is that Wright will be a free agent once again when he is 30. The thought of him leaving is almost imposible. This guy loves the Mets more than, well, anyone. But had we waited 2 years, and signed him for 8, then we know he would never leave us.

At the same time, his agent isn’t stupid. He wanted one more deal and now he’ll get it.

Either way, this is a great time to be a Mets fan. For the first time in years everything is going right and we aren’t doing anything too dumb.

For a Monday, I’ll take it.

VCD,

SM

In Case We Need Some Late-Season Mojo

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. Was doing some morning Mets reading just now and came across an article in my trust New York Daily News about the Brooklyn Cyclones, a 12-game winning streak, and the rubber chicken that made the whole thing possible.

See, it turns out the Mets' Class A affiliate in the impossibly cool southeastern burrough started the season on a dry spell. They lost their first 7 games and sputtered to a 14-16 record before July 23.

That morning, Cyclones hitting coach Scott Hunter arrived at the ballpark sporting a $9.99 rubber chicken, which he encouraged his players, caught in a season-long batting funk, to squeeze before taking their hacks. The "fortuitous fowl", as it is dubbed by Daily News scribe Ethan Sacks, emits a squawk when squeezed.

Asked to explain his purchase and the inexplicable success that has followed the acquisition of the rubber chicken, Hunter said it all comes down to taking the pressure off.

"These kids are trying to play minor league ball in a Major League city," Hunter said. "It started as something to break up the pressure. Now, it's turned into a cult figure."

So could the Rally Chicken make an appearance at Shea Stadium, say, in October?

The article is mum on that subject, but it wouldn't be the first time that a playoff contender looked within its system for a jolt of energy come playoff time. But if he keeps bringing the good mojo to the Cyclones, don't be surprised if that rubber chicken becomes 2006's answer to Timo Perez.

The article is available in its entirety by clicking the title above.

- A.F.O.M.G.

A Day to Celebrate for My Friend, Mr. Glass

(Note: Two pieces for you today. The first by A.F.O.M.G. about Jose Reyes, the second by Sippy Momo hailing Pedro's tuyn on the mound last night. Enjoy.)

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. You know, I start a lot of my posts that way. Don't really know why, I just fell into the habit I guess.

Ordinarily I write it without thinking much about it. Today's a different story. That's because yesterday my friend and yours, Jose Reyes, signed a 4-year deal with the Mets worth $23.25 million big ones.

Now look, everything that can be said about Reyes has already been said. You all know how exciting he is to watch, how thrilling it is every time he hits a ball in the gap or takes a lead off first.

You all know how much he's improved between this year and last. You all know how high his ceiling still is even in this, a year in which he made his first All-Star Team (and deserved the honor).

So given that you've read all the superlatives about the guy on the day Reyes inked his first long-term deal with the Mets, I thought I would share some personal thoughts on my experience with Jose Reyes.

Most of the people who read this site are long-time Mets fans, people who lived through the lows of the early- and mid-90s, the highs of the late-90s Bobby Valentine Mets, and then again the lows of the early-00s Mets, under the direction of Art Howe.

But there are some of you, I'm sure, who are late adopters. Or perhaps others who stopped paying as close attention when things went south after the years of plenty in 1999 and 2000.

For people like you, what you have to understand about Reyes was how important he was for the franchise at a time when it was really at its lowest. The summer of 2003 was an extraordinarily depressing time.

Why? Well, take a look at this roster that took the field alongside Reyes on June 10, 2003, his first day in the pros:

1. Roger Cedeno RF
2. Timo Perez LF
3. Roberto Alomar 2B
4. Cliff Floyd DH
5. Jeromy Burnitz (RIP) CF
6. Ty Wigginton 3B
7. Jason Phillips 1B
8. Vance Wilson C
9. Jose Reyes SS

Steve Trachsel P

Look at that lineup. Almost everyone in it ahead of the No. 9 guy was a loser -- Cedeno, Alomar, Phillips, Trachsel... err, not Trachsel -- and the ones that weren't losers were the kind of loveable saps you only liked because you had to. (The definite exception being Cliff Floyd.)

I mean, sure, I loved Wiggy as much as the next guy, but look at him and look at the guy who mans third base now and there's really no comparison there.

That 2003 team was on its way to a 66-95 record. For perspective, consider that we have 64 wins already in 2006 and August just got underway.

So things were bad when Reyes got called up, and were made worse still by the fact that the incumbent, Rey Sanchez, had worn out his welcome by getting a mid-game haircut in the clubhouse several weeks earlier.

But no matter how bad things were at the time, when you heard the news that Reyes had been called up to the big club, you had to watch. You had to be there for every Reyes at-bat, just because.

Because you'd read all the scouting reports on the kid. Because you'd seen him kick ass in that All-Star Futures Game. Because you knew every other team in baseball wanted him. Because you knew how highly regarded he was even all the way back then.

And somewhere between knowing all that and knowing how badly things were for the Mets at the time you began to hope that maybe Reyes' debut with the club signaled a turning point.

You began to think that maybe this kid with the megawatt smile, the high pant legs (I, for one, wish he still wore his pants up), and the seeming inability to begin a sentence with anything other than "What can I say?", maybe he was the start of something different for the Mets.

And here we are just over 3 years later and the Mets are cruising toward their first playoff berth in 6 years. It wasn't all Reyes. Indeed, Pedro Martinez is the player most singularly credited with refashioning the franchise's image, Omar Minaya is the man most singularly responsible for our success, and David Wright is the most popular position player on the Mets.

But in some small way at least, everything began to get better the day Reyes stepped onto that field in Texas. And on the day after he signed his first long-term contract, I just wanted to remind everyone of that.

- A.F.O.M.G.

I'll Make It

We've all seen it. Norman Dale drawing up a play for Ray, Hickory's # 2 option instead of Jimmy Chitwood. Jimmy, as charmingly softspoken as Sippy Momo Sr., emerged from silence and took the game in his hands.

"I'll make it,' Jimmy said.

Dale immediately changed the plan. Jimmy went on to make the shot, Hickory won the game, Sip got chills.


We all knew Jimmy would make that shot. Not only was this a movie -- movies usually end on a high note -- but this was Jimmy, a star.

For years, Boston fans felt this way about Pedro. When he took the mound, chills ran through their bodies. You knew he'd dominate. You knew he'd win.

When Pedro signed with the Mets after the 2004 season, a season where Pedro floated an ERA near 4 and a fastball closer to 90 than a 100, I had to say, I didn't know what to expect.

Then, I saw Pedro in orange and blue.

For much of last season, despite getting up there in years and sporting a deteriorating body, I knew Pedro would make it. He would take the mound and we would win.

Or at least that was how I felt. And for those who know me, I never feel that way.

2006 continued where '05 left off. Pedro dominated. He took the mound and we would win. And win some more. And win convincingly.


Then a scary thing happened.

Pedro lost his spark. Something was off. We all knew it and it scared the shit out of all Mets fans. Without our #1 guy we didn't have a chance. We needed that ace to take us to October and beyond. As great as Tommy "The Spy" has been, he is a #2.

Which is what makes last night so huge. Coming off a DL stint which followed Pedro's coldest stint as a pro, Pedro looked great on Thursday.

He allowed 4 hits and 1 ER over 6 innings, going neck and neck with Mets nemesis and Marlins ace Dontrelle Willis. Most importantly, Pedro struck out 9 Marlins in the 6 innings. He had that swagger, that dominance that makes Pedro special.

The Mets lost the game, and fortunately for us, these games just aren't that important (knock on wood).

We can lose these games, at least every once in a while.

The important thing though is Pedro. We need this guy to return to dominance, a place where we know that as confident we are, that is how scared our competition is.

We need Pedro to be our Jimmy. While that may be unrealistic, given his age, who thought the Mets would be where they are today.

Anything can happen with these guys. Ya just gotta believe.

Have a good weekend all.

VCD,
SM

Real Men of Genius

(Note: Two pieces for you today, the first by Sippy Momo, the second by A Friend of Mr. Glass'. Enjoy.)

On a day where Mike Pelfrey was optioned to Norfolk and Billy Wagner narrowly avoided blowing a second straight save to the youthful Marlins, it was a simple post on our quaint website and some more shitty analysis from the good people at espn.com that has Sip’s juices flowing.

Moving down Pelfrey was the right move. Let him work on his pitches. We only brought him up because we had basically no one else. That was a month ago. Now John Maine has emerged and Brian Bannister is getting ready to rejoin the big club.

It was great that Pelfrey had his cup in the show. He’ll have some great stories to tell the Jorge Toca’s of the world down in Norfolk. But for now, let's get this kid throwing more strikes, honing his secondary pitches and maybe even hitting the weight room.

As for Wagner, there is one thing I keep seeing. When his fastball hits 97-98, he is invincible against righties and lefties.


When it hits 95-96, righties can catch up. Whether he needs more work or less, that I don’t know.

What I do know is that the guy is capable of turning it up when he needs to. He threw Miguel Cabrera some heavy 98mph cheese to close out last night’s game. You could see in his face and eyes how much he wanted that.

But today is not about the Mets. These are somewhat boring times in Mets baseball. There isn’t a lot they can do (or not do for that matter) to effect this season.

The Yankees on the other hand have a lot to play for. Caught in the midst of yet another Yankees-Red Sox late season clash, the Yankees do not necessarily have the luxury to take it easy and coast into the playoffs via the wild card.

With the White Sox and Twins right on their tail, the Yankees need to win their division to secure an 12th straight trip to October.

Two things have happened of late that have absolutely killed me. The Bobby Abreu trade and yesterday’s post on our comment board, by “My Yanks.”

First, the Abreu trade.

Now it doesn’t bother me that they made the trade. They’re in the middle of a huge race and they are a couple of bats light from their 200 million dollar payroll.

What kills me is that Yankee brass is actually get praised, and I mean these guys are getting their members sucked, for pulling off this miraculous deal in which they sent 4 decent prospects to the Phils for Abreu and Corey Lidle.

To all you Yankee fans out there and all you moron reporters, all you have to realize is that this deal was strictly about money.


Bobby Abreu is owed roughly $21,000,000 for the remainder of ’06 and ’07. That’s 21 mil for a guy that had 8 HR playing on a little league field in Philadelphia.

No other team in baseball would be crazy enough to pay Abreu that much, nor could they actually afford to from a business standpoint.

Instead, what all the other GM’s interested did was offer better prospects and demanded that the Phillies eat a chunk of Abreu’s salary.

The Phillies had a decision. Do we eat $6,000,000 and get an Humberto Sanchez from Detroit, or do we let the Yankees eat the whole thing and let 'em cough up a few B-level prospects in exchange?

The answer was obvious. In this day in baseball where the Dodgers refused to pay Luke Hochevar his $4,000,000 demand to sign with them, only to see him then go #1 in the 2006 amatuer draft to the Royals, a top prospect isn’t worth $6,000,000. Too many teams have been burned by the Josh Hamilton’s of the world,


You know –- the can’t miss guys who end up missing badly.

So instead the Phils did what a smart team would do. They gave away their terrible contract. Now they have $15 mil to throw at a real free agent in the winter.

So you see, friends, this isn’t the Yankees being smart. Instead, this is the Yankees really being financially irresponsible, not netting sufficient utility from their investment, but being so rich that it just didn’t really matter for them.

We all knew two things about the Yankees. One, that they were rich. The second was that their fans are the worst.

Yesterday, a Yankee fan wrote on our site:

“Thanks for keeping the 'best team in NYC' seat warm for us fellas, but we'll take it from here... ”

Great pal. It’s August, a little early actually for you guys to be watching. But now that you're here, let me commend you for your timing. For the first time all season, the Yankees look better than the Sox. For the first time all season, the Yankees are playing like a team with a $200,000,000 payroll, and all of a sudden Yankee fans are running their mouths.

All year I have heard the same things:

“I don’t hate the Mets. I actually like them.”

“I’m happy for you guys, it’s good for New York.”

“You don’t have to hate the Yankees, just because you like the Mets.”


The second rate fuckos from the Bronx have been pouring compliments, waving the white flag to the fans of the Amazins all year. Everything was fine and good until the Yankees run off a good couple of weeks and steal the backpage at the trade deadline.

The fact is this: As I said earlier in the year and will say again now, the Yanks should make the playoffs every year. They are just too good. They trot out literally an All-Star lineup every single night.

But Mets fans realize this. Think about how amazingly fun this season has been for us. We’ve waited a couple of years and now October is finally in our grasps. Then think about not caring about 6 months of baseball.

Think about being a Yankee fan and knowing that you have to be here every year simply because your team can spend more.

They might win more.

But our wins mean a lot more.

Vaya con dios,

SM

True Idiocy Over at Gothamist

Hey everyone, A Friend of Mr. Glass' here. Real quick post for you here in the run-up to Sip's piece later in the day.

I came across a blog post on the website Gothamist this morning naming Duaner Sanchez their Idiot of the Week (or Month). It pains me to write this post because I really like Gothamist as a website, but the idiocy of the author, Tien Mao, is truly staggering here.

In addition to criticizing Duaner for being in a taxi cab so late at night and chastising the Mets for not having a curfew on the nights before off-days, Tien goes on to suggest the following to Duaner's Dominican compadres:

"Note to Jose Reyes and Pedro Martinez: if you have cravings like your fellow Dominican, please don't go on a futile late-night search in a city you don't live in. Thank you."

I'm not sure that this sentence is racist necessarily (as some on the comment board have claimed), but it's certainly in bad taste, and it's unquestionably stupid and unfunny.

Look, sometimes blogging isn't as easy as it looks. Some days you know you want to write about a given topic, but you don't know the best way to go about doing so. Other days you've got nothing to write about at all but you've gotta get something up there because that's your responsibility. But I'm sorry, none of that excuses this kind of idiocy. It's just really hard to understand where Tien was coming from on this one.

Anyway, you can connect to the post by clicking on the title above. I encourage you all to register your disgust on their comment board, where, thankfully, many others have already done so.

- A.F.O.M.G.

I'm Giddy

Why you ask? Well, needless to say it's not because of the game last night.

That's probably unfair. Truth is, there was a lot to like about yesterday's game even if it ended badly.

Carlos Beltran continued to be a beast. I liked Delgado's 2-out opposite field RBI single in the first. Mr. Glass continued to score runs. But most important of all, our new-look bullpen looked sharp before Billy Wagner got served.

Look, you can't get too bent out of shape about Wagner last night. As painful as it is to witness, it happens.

My mortal enemy Matt Cerrone made a good point over on Metsblog this morning, which was that you can't really argue if the other guy beats you.

If you see Wagner beat himself, a la that meltdown against the Yankees, feel free to throw your remote, but if the other simply gets the better of him, well, c'est la vie.

More important than Wagner last night were Aaron Heilman, who managed to overcome his acute case of Major League Blues to toss a strong 1-2-3 inning in the 8th, and Chad Bradford, who is making a bid to do more than clean up Tom Glavine's 5th or 6th inning mess.

Ultimately the 7th and 8th innings belong to Heilman and New Met Roberto Hernandez (welcome back, guy -- we were sad to see you go), but it's nice to see Bradford step up.

If you told me that Bradford would come in second in a massive poll of Mets fans' confidence in our bullpen pitchers (behind the recently deceased Duaner Sanchez) I'd believe it, he's been that good, but still, it's nice to see him deliver now that the burden is greater on everyone in that bullpen.

As for Mike Pelfrey, this was a typical Mike Pelfrey outing. Sharp at times, frustratingly wild at times, good enough on the whole to give you a decent line.

I'm exposing myself once again to the anonymous poster who called me misinformed a week or two ago when I wrote that Pelfrey didn't look like a top of the line starter at this stage in his development, but I'm sticking with that assessment.

He might be better than Trachsel already, but you know that Trax isn't getting bumped from the rotation. Ditto El Duque, not at the moment anyway.

So that leaves Pelfrey in 1-D battle with John Maine for the 5th starter's spot (provided Nails' request that the Mets use a 6-man rotation the rest of the way, sent to Omar Minaya via e-mail this morning, goes unheeded).

It's really tempting to keep Pelfrey with the big club, but for now I think he should be the odd man out. I'm not completely sold on Maine yet, but I think he's more refined.

As decent as Pelfrey has been, you get a sense of how nasty he could be if he could just harness it all together. What does him in is his command of secondary pitches and his concentration. He can work on both in the minor leagues with less pressure, and doing so may be well to his long-term benefit.

But anyway, that's not what I'm giddy about.

I'm giddy because this coming Monday I will get a chance to rub elbows, schmooze, hand Yankees 2000 cards, etc. with some of my favorite Mets at the Beacon Restaurant in Manhattan.

Among the Mets appearing at the event are David Wright, Cliff Floyd, Paul Lo Duca, Xavier Nady... err, not Xavier Nady... Julio Franco's blender, and WaLuigi.

(Speaking of the X-Man, allow me to give him a hearty RIP. The guy hit 14 home runs in 76 games (265 ABs) for the New guys. That puts him on pace for about 30 dongs a year (he won't get there this year on account of his apendectomy), which is pretty damn good for a 7-hitter. Jesus Christ, we really traded this guy for a 41 year old and a reclamation project?

As a matter of fact, he might be the best 7th hitter in the National League, and at $427,000 a year, he was an absolute bargain.

But fine, I realize he was expendable, and I realize a move had to be made to shore up the bullpen after Duaner Sanchez (RIP) got injured in, but still, the X-Man was a pretty high price to pay.

From all of us here at Y2K, RIP Xavier. Your shoddy fielding, timely hitting, and awesome nose will forever live on in Y2K lore.)

At $175 a pop tickets don't come cheap, but this is an excellent opportunity. Meet your favorite Mets, cast ugly stares over at Matt Cerrone, get a buffet dinner at a nice restaurant and complimentary drinks -- there's a lot of value there.

I've got my ticket, and I'm absolutely giddy -- you can be giddy too by clicking the headline above and filling out the form. If you buy a ticket and you're gonna be there, shoot me an e-mail or leave a comment on the comment board.

Anyway, busy day at the office so I've gotta keep this brief. Last thing I'll mention -- watching Jaret Wright pitch might be the most excruciating experience this side of Steve Trachsel.

The YES broadcasting team mentioned that he averages 5 pitches per at-bat. That may not sound like a lot, but consider that (true?) Yankee Bobby Abreu leads the bigs in pitches per AB with 4.47.

Somehow, Jaret Wright does worse than that every batter he faces. Yikes.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Driven

(Note: for all you Boston guys that aren’t looking to read about the Mets and just want some good old fashion Yankee bashing, skip to Part II. And by the way, that David Ortiz-Wily Mo Pena handshake was about the coolest thing I have ever seen. Even cooler than the day I found out they were making a sequel to Major League.)

The Trade deadline came and went with none of the big names like Alfonso Soriano, Barry Zito and last second rumor guys Roy Oswalt and Roger Clemens being moved.

However, the inability to land a marquee player was not the major disappointment that loomed around Shea and my local Mets listserve. In fact, I think the crowd was relatively split on not parting with Young Lastings.

It was losing Duaner Sanchez to a freak taxi accident that has provided the Mets with their first HUGE blow of the season.


In many ways, Duaner Sanchez has been the overall key to our pitching staff. With what has been a somewhat pedestrian rotation throughout much of the season, Sanchez has been the core of a middle relief group that has dominated the innings leading up to Billy Wagner.

With Aaron Heilman spiraling into mediocrity over the last couple of months, it has been Sanchez who has remained the most consistent of any Mets pitcher to the point where I can say the following: I am more comfortable with Sanchez on the mound in the 8th than I am with Wagner taking the hill in the 9th.

Losing Sanchez will be tough. The bright side is this. Contrary to early reports, it appears that Sanchez(5-1, 2.60, 44k’s) may be able to return in September or October, if doctors decide that the pitcher does not need surgery to repair his separated pitching shoulder.

How effective he would be in return is too hard to say, but in a season where pretty much everything has been going right for the New guys, maybe just maybe our handsomely rec-speced, should-have-been All-Star reliever can fight back.

To combat the loss of Sanchez, the Mets sent X, Xavier Nady, to the Pirates for old Met Roberto Hernandez and former left handed phenom turned overweight loser Oliver Perez.

Old Mets fans often forget that it was Hernandez who was probably the MVP of the Mets last season. He emerged out of 90’s closer obscurity to provide very competent relief in the late innings (8-6, 2.58, 61K’s).


While we have been spoiled all year by the dominance of Sanchez, who has three plus out pitches (fastball, slider, change), Herandez has proven to be an above average 8th inning guy.

The loss of X will be quickly forgotten as the soon to be platoon of Lastings Milledge, who will be recalled from Norfolk, and Endy Chavez should provide the Mets with more speed and defense in an already punch-filled lineup.

An interesting cog in this deal is Perez. Two seasons ago this guy looked like he could be something special (12-10, 2.98, 239 K’s, good enough to lead MLB in Ks-per-9).

After a 2004 season in which Perez shocked the National Legaue he has since floundered into Anthony Youngville.

Still, like so many pitchers who have struggled, a change of scenery may do him something. Look at John Maine. A high prospect who stunk and was cast away as a throw in. He looks pretty good, don’t you think?

That was all there really was for the Mets at the deadline. A potential deal for Scott Linebrink, the Padres setup man and member of Dom De La Swipe, my base-stealing, run-scoring bottom half payroll fantasy baseball team would have been nice. Despite a horrid month of July, Linebrink has been one of baseball’s better middle guys over the last couple of years.

The failure to acquire Zito or Oswalt bothers me but doesn’t kill me.


So many arguments have been made for why we need to make a push now. That this team is special, that you don’t get too many shots, that this may be the last great (?) season of Pedro.

But as I have said all along, this will be a decision that can only be made in hindsight. If Lastings Milledge becomes something special, we probably made the right decision. If Steve Trachsel gets blown out in Game 3 of the NLDS, we may regret our move.

That said, the deadline has come and gone and we are on our way to the postseason. Moves can still be made. I’m not sure who would block Livan Hernandez from clearing waivers with a year left on his contract. The guy could still become New.

For now, let's be happy with what we have. The best Mets team we have had since I was 4 years old.

NOW THE FUNNY PART

In a day where being driven to the hotel cost Duaner Sanchez his shoulder, Derek Jeter, New York’s third favorite bachelor (D Wright, The Real Sippy—DDS) has come to terms with Avon Inc. to launch his new cologne, DRIVEN.

DJ sure is driven. It was his endless motor that took him for that 30 foot run into the stands costing him some tarnishing to his handsome cheekbone in that series against the Red Sox.

He is driven to box out all teammates, especially a bitter A-Rod, to get to the front step to provide that ever so important high five to a Yankee teammate who has recently scored, coincidentally logging him some very precious TV time.


But as you all know, we here at Y2K are really done hating Jeter. He has been too good for too long, and all in all he is not that bad. Especially when you compare him to Y2K nemesis’ Alex Rodriguez, Johnny Damon, Randy Johnson, Big Sunglasses and mesh slippers with the flowers on the front.

What I am excited about is this. Little Bobbets from Westchester and Jersey (no disrespect to the greatest cousins of all time or Cousin Wayne -- basically excluding all of the great town of Edison) hitting up Macy’s around Christmas time and picking up their Bobby boyfriends (you know the type, the spikey-haired Gotti Boy wannabe’s) a new bottle of “Driven.” Now, not only will all Yankee fans look and sound alike, they will also smell alike too, like one big bowl of Derek Jeter.

“Yo bro, check out what Lisa just go me. Driven bro!” Said Bobby #1.

“No way bro, Carmen just bought that shit for me too, bro. Yo, Bobby Abreu is the man bro! Let's go Yankees!” Said his close friend Bobby.

Hey guys, our bullpen may be weaker and our rotation may be struggling, but at least we have our pride and we are not them.

Vaya con Dios,

The Sip