"I'm hearing the brother from DePaul"

(A.F.O.M.G. talks Mets in a post below.)

Four reasons Knicks fans should be thrilled about the outcome of 2007 NBA Draft night

1) Zack Randolph for peanuts

For those baseball-only Y2K readers out there, and we know there's more than a few of you, Zeke pulled off a gem of a trade last night. Yes, you are awake. No, you're not high. Actually, what am I saying? You probably are. But that's not the point.

The point is that the Knicks picked up powerful power forward Zack Randolph and a pair of crap guards (Fabulous Fred Jones and floppy haired cracker Dan Dickau) for absolutely nothing -- the smoldering ashes of Stevie Franchise's corpse and Channing "Small" Frye. What an absolute steal.

Now, while acknowledging that there are plenty of reasons to be skeptical about Randolph's ability to succeed in New York (doubts about his sanity foremost among them), there's simply no escaping how ludicrous the price was. For one thing, getting rid of Francis should improve the Knicks in and of itself -- Portland, for its part, immediately announced it would buy the guy out of his contract. As playing commodities go, Stevie just isn't a desirable. Too hurt, too slow, too awful at defense, too everything. Good riddance.

Plus, with Frye simply stealing minutes better spent on David Lee, you've basically conceded nothing while picking up a guy who averaged 24 and 10 last year. Maybe he tanks, and the contract certainly has the potential to be an albatross in that event, but at this price, it's a risk anyone would take.

2) The Randolph-Curry frontline

Remember all those season-killing double teams Big Eddy saw last year? The ones that Big Eddy, so brutally effective in the post during the first half of the season, never really came close to figuring out? Remember how frustrating that was? (Young Sip surely does). Well, forget about them. They're a thing of the past. Done and done.

Because in Randolph, not only have you added a guy with an even more legitimate claim on that same double team, you've also got a big man who can knock down the 16-foot kickout jumper every time. Curry, so inept at finding the open guard (or whoever) with the skip or cutting pass, doesn't have to worry about that any more -- Randolph can just sit out in the lane and rotate for the easy two.

The list of teams in the East with a chance at guarding this tandem straight up is extremely short. Very short. In fact, this lineup:

PG Starbury
SG Jamal Crawford
SF Jared Jeffries/Q
PF Randolph
C Curry

... with David Lee the first guy off the bench, the non-starter among Q or Jeffries and Nate Robinson coming off for scoring and Rose/James/Morris spelling the bigs, the Knicks are going to score a lot of points and be pretty damn tough to stop. They could really stand to get a player who can play defense, but at the very least, they're going to be a lot more interesting than they've been in a while.

3) Spike Lee, seer

So ESPN's Lisa Salters has Spike, sitting out in the audience with a shit-eating grin on his face, on for a live interview right after the Randolph trade. He ignores the trade entirely and proceeds to defend Zeke's drafting prowess, citing T-Mac and Damon Stoudemire and Renaldo Balkman (yup). Salters then asks him who he thinks the Knicks should take with their first-rounder, and Spike sort of hedges before busting out, with another loopy smile on his face, the title of this post.

I was sitting in the Anchor Bar (home of the chicken wing!) in Buffalo when this happened, and every single person in the place sort of turned and looked at each other with a confused look on the ol' face. Not because Spike was wrong, clearly, but because it was just such an improbable and bizarre thing to say on television. Plus, "the brother from DePaul" sort of has a nice, cooly Catholic cadence to it. God, I love Spike.

4) Zeke not taking Josh McRoberts

Now, I don't happen to think much about the brother from DePaul's chances of becoming an NBA contributor. That said, there was a lot of potential for mischief at No. 23, with a lot of Isaiah-type complete bomb picks sitting out there like tasty little ducks l'orange, and the big guy didn't take the bait.

McRoberts isn't even the type of player Zeke would have been looking for, although hearing the reaction of MSG had he been taken would have been absoultely priceless. I was genuinely worried he was going to take the Finnish dude Philly grabbed (and eventually sold to the evil billionaire Paul Allen) or Nevada's big stiff Nick Fazekas or even Aaron Brooks, the Staten Island version of Nate Robinson, even after picking up Fred Jones in the Randolph deal. Expecting the worse, I suppose.

Boring and a little off-the-wall > outright mockery. Progress!

Two reasons Knicks fans should not be thrilled about the outcome of 2007 NBA Draft night

1) The Atlantic Division got a whole lot better

Now, a productive and non-imprisoned Randolph might actually make the Knicks the favorite to win the division. The problem is that all of the teams' rivals got a lot better as well.

Boston brought Ray Allen over from Seattle for a stunningly reasonable price, and while I wouldn't have pulled the trigger on a deal that's not going to solve my long-term problems, they're going to be much better in the short run. The lineup of Rondo-Allen-Pierce-Jefferson-Perkins isn't all that bad at all.

Philly snagged a couple of guys who should contribute right away in Thad Young (less Joe Smith = progress) and the fella from Colorado State.

Toronto didn't really do much, but they won the division last year.

The Nets added the shot-blocker they needed in Sean Williams, a guy who should immediately take all of CBA reject Mikki Moore's minutes and swat about 2.6 shots a game in the process. Another potential nutcase, but hey, you can't credit the Knicks and not give the Nets the same benefit of the doubt.

Anyway, a much tougher group than last year, at least at this point.

2) Still no backup point guard

See, I certainly would have addressed this instead of taking the brother from DePaul, especially because Spanish sensation Rudy Fernandez was still sitting there at No. 23. (Phoenix took him with the next pick, then sold him to Allen for 30 pieces of silver and a chunk of the rights to PowerPoint.) Fernandez plays like a mutant combination of Manu Ginobili, Kevin Johnson and Ronaldinho -- it's all a bit unorthodox, if not actually spastic-looking, but it's cool as shit when it works and stylish as hell. This guy would have been a hit like none other in the Garden. Too bad.

It's Time

Short post for you all today, not much to say at a time like this. The next four games will tell us a lot about the Mets. Ever since the Phillies sent our boys all topsy-turvy by sweeping them in early June, this Mets team just hasn't been right.

The hitting's there one game then the next it's gone. The pitching's generally solid but every now and then it pulls a clunker out of its hat.

But more than anything it's a seeming lack of passion. I don't know exactly what I would have liked to have seen out of this team the past few weeks -- tirades like Lo Duca's last week aren't it, not that I minded that too much -- but there's been something missing.

Speaking more generally, something that's been missing for the Mets all year is that dominant run where the team sets aside all comers. The kind of run like we had last June when we won 9 straight (or was it 10?).

Having won 5 of our last 6 games, we have the makings of such a run now, and starting today, we're putting it on the line against the second place Phillies.

This is a big series. The biggest so far this year. It just feels like we're at a critical juncture. It feels like this series could just set the terms for the rest of the season. A 2-2 split or a series loss and the dog fight that everyone's been talking about seems inescapable.

But think about a series sweep. Think about the statement that would make. Think about what the standings would look like afterward, one way or the other. Mets get swept and they trail the Phillies by a game. Mets sweep the Phillies and our lead on them balloons to 7 games. Game, set, match? No, not quite, but it would go a long way toward reestablishing the pecking order in the NL East.

You look at this team sometimes and it looks like they're going through the motions. They play like they know they're the best team in the division, and frankly, losing every game you play for two weeks and still maintaining a lead in the division can probably only feed that complacency.

But it's time to fucking bear down and do the damn thing. It's time to just win games. If the Mets can't get up for this series... I mean, if not now, when? If not against the "team to beat" Phillies, then who else?

It's time to set the tone. It's time to make a statement to the Phillies, to the league, to whoever else may be watching. It's just time.

- A.F.O.M.G.

(Image courtesy of philliesfanpage.com)

The Rocket, the Draft and a Look Around the Majors

Kudos to J Schubes' new O's. I hate Roger Clemens. I hate him for Game 2 of the 2000 World Series when he threw Monster's broken bat at him and I hate him for drilling Monster in the head earlier that season.

I hate that baseball is a game where the Yankees can pay more for one player ($28 mil) than the Devil Rays can pay their entire ball club ($24.1 mil) and then put them in the same division. Put two and two together and when Roger Clemens pitches for the Yankees, there is a lot of anger running through an otherwise happy Sip's veins.

Which is why this delectable 1-3 start of the Rocket's is so appealing. Wednesday's 6 innings which started with some grimacing and ended in pain (getting lit up) was so satisfying.

That the Yankees can't beat the Orioles, the joke of basebasll for the entire month of June is funny. But Roger Clemens looking like a #4 starter is funnier.

This is a guy that should be the best pitcher never to win a World Series ring. That he has one is the product of begging his way on to the end of the Yankees dynasty, onto a team that would have won one without him.

Any way you slice it, 1-3 is a nice start for the $28million dollar man. And 36-39 is a swell place to see those Bombers almost halfway through the season.

Here are some other thoughts. Back to back solid starts for Tommy G. No longer "The Spy" and no longer pitching like he did for about 3 weeks leading up to June 22nd, it's good to have our ace back. It's no surprise that as your #1 starter goes, so does your ball club.

Case in point, the New Cubs. Carlos Zambrano has looked like the $150 million dollar starter he will probably be come December (4-1, 37.2IP, 6 ER, 43K's in his last 5 starts). If they continue to get the consistent starting out of Hill, Marquis and Lilly, and if Ryan Dempster doesn't blow up completely, this team can make a serious run in the Central.

The Dodgers also look really really tough. Losing Jason Schmidt killed them but Penny-Lowe-Wolf is very solid, Broxton-Saito has been lights out and with the emergence of James Loney, the lineup is very very good 1-8.

All this means the NL is getting stronger. The league is abot 5-6 solid teams deep, compared to last year when there may have been 2.5.

And now to one of my favorite days of the year: The NBA Draft.

I'm off to Chicago to visit my boy Danny D, see my cousins and hit up Wrigley. Of course, 2 months back I booked a flight the night of the draft. KILL ME/Don't call or text me. I'm tivoing.

A couple of notes regarding the draft.

- Whatever the Knicks do will be comical.

There are hints of them trading up to get Sean Williams, a 6'11 shotblocker from BC who got kicked off the team after about 19 incidents.

The other guy you read a lot about is Wilson Chandler. He's a 6'7 scrappy swingman who is supposed to be a 2nd rounder. Some Renaldo Balkman deja vu.

According to Isiah, what he does with his pick is not that important because he already stole a 1st rounder in Randolph Morris. That's about the dumbest thing I could imagine. Why not get 2 good players, Isiah, instead of making an excuse for your 2nd pick before you even select him?

- Oden vs. Durant.

You have your choice. Seems to me like you can't go wrong either way. I would saty I like Durant more, but Bill Simmons ruined that. JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER PART OF THIS DRAFT.

- Billy Simmons has been raving about Al Thornton, a 6'8 forward from Florida State.

He won't shut up about the guy, claiming he is the next messiah and whatever else. I am almost positive that Bill simmons has not seen Al Thornton play more than 5 times in his entire life. How could he have? Thornton plays for FSU who is NEVER on television as the #8 team in the ACC.

Simmons saw one memorable highlight dunk, read his name when FSU was on the bubble and after reading that Chad Ford likes him (where Simmons gets every ounce of info only to regurgitate as his own -- unlike Gordon Wood).

Simmons' lack of true knowledge is so obvious it's sad. That he tries to pawn it off like he is an expert is even more sad. There is nothing wrong with allowing the experts to be experts and doing what you do best, Bill, and be a fan.

We all know about the Gators and Oden and Durant and most guys in the top15 because they were on TV so often. To say that you are in love with the one Top-15 prospect that is not Chineese who most people might not know about, just so that if he pans out, you look smart and if not, you shrug it off is a pansy's approach to sports forcasting.

Whoever can deliver this message to the Sports Guy, please do. I'd love to get in an altercation. I think he is great when he is being Bill the "Super Fan," I really do.

But if I sit here and listen to him babble about "Cap Space" just because he understand a very basic concept of the NBA salary structure, I might go out to LA and do something really bad to him.

That's all. New Mets, Old Knicks, Same Sip.

Vaya,

Sip

(Images courtesy of chroniclejournal.com, digitalderke.typepad.com and mlive.com)

Horrifyingly Believable

"Un-fucking-believable."

Those were the words that escaped from Scott Schoeneweis after Schoeneweis, easily the worst reliever on the team, allowed an extraordinarily believable home run to some guy who might be as annoying as David Eckstein to watch play the game. It was the annoying guy's first career home run, and seventh career home run if you count how many he hit as a minor leaguer.

Pretty f'ing pathetic, but horrifyingly believable.

Schoeneweis has been awful as a Met. I don't know the numbers on him, I don't need to know the numbers on him. He enters a game, you expect him to let up runs, and if he doesn't, chances are he's made things interesting.

I seriously contemplated writing "Schoeneweis fucking sucks" and calling it a day -- end of blog, end of story -- but something about the chorus of boos that rained down as Schoeneweis got me thinking of a post I'd written over the offseason.

"The Five Mets Most Likely to Get the Victor Zambrano Treatment in 2007" (rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?) was written Dec. 13, 2006. In it, I commented on how nice it was that the 2006 Mets were virtually free of unredeemably loathsome players once Kaz Matsui and Jorge Julio were gone, with the one exception being Steve Trachsel, who sucked in spite of his won-loss record, shat on our playoff changes, and slams dudes.

And I speculated as to which 5 players on the Mets were likely to pick up the vaunted Most Hateable Met mantle. The five players I guessed were Jose Valentin, Damion Easley, Shawn Green, Carlos Beltran and Julio Franco. Quick scorecard on these five:

1. Jose Valentin -- I thought we caught lightning in a bottle with him, and while he hasn't been exactly lights out for us, he's been entirely solid, his two errors last night and his injuries notwithstanding.

2. Damion Easley -- Stand by this one, but Easley been solid enough for us.

3. Shawn Green -- All's forgiven, Shawn. If it means anything I always wanted you to do well.

4. Carlos Beltran -- Those boos could still come as 2007 has been more 2005 and less 2006. That said, he's probably safe.

5. Julio Franco -- I got you, fucker!

But you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men... sure I got Franco, but the other four, not so much, not this year.

The man leading the pack this year is Schoeneweis. To my credit, Schoeneweis hadn't yet signed with the Mets when I wrote that article. If he had been a member of the team I doubt I would have included him anyway, but the possibility exists. After we gave him that 3-year contract I was a little miffed given the stink we made about not signing Chad Bradford for so many years, but I was generally optimistic that Schoeneweis would pan out.

Oh, young A.F.O.M.G. ... it was all so simple then, wasn't it? Little did I suspect the nightmare that lay ahead. The blown leads. The broken ties. The inherited runners scored. The baserunners allowed.

Yessir, it's Schoeneweis who has filled Victor Zambrano's shoes in 2007. Franco's Mendoza-line average is getting, uh, old, and Delgado is having the kind of season that makes you long for Jason Phillips (Gogs!), so they're candidates as well.

But it's Schoeneweis who has thus far joined the ranks of Zambrano, Roger Cedeno (not '99) and Kaz Matsui on the 2007 Mets. At least with Delgado there's a successful 2006 to look back on, and Franco, well, he did get Beltran to take a curtain call once upon a time.

Schoeneweis though? Schoeneweis fucking sucks.

- A.F.O.M.G.

(Images courtesy of mlb.com and anothername.bravepages.com)

Cedeno '99? Meet Gomez '07.

I'll never forget that night. It was December 23, 1999. I was sitting on my grandmother's recliner at her house in Boca watching SportsCenter when the news crawl at the bottom of the screen caught my attention in a way that only Jennifer Love-Hewitt could do in the late 90's.

The Mets had traded Octavio Dotel and Roger Cedeno to the Houston Astros for Mike Hampton and Mr. April 2000 himself, Derek Bell.

My emotions were immediately mixed. I didn't quite grasp what we were getting in Hampton -- nasty stuff, bulldog, ace who I would hope would step on glass about 12 months later. But I did know what we were giving up.

Octavio Dotel was our stud. He carried us through my fondest baseball memory, pitching what I think was 5 innings in Game 5 of the 1999 NLCS, the 15 inning marathon against the Braves. Giving up Dotel hurt. But it was the other guy that killed me.

Do you guys remember Roger Cedeno's 1999? It was never the prettiest, but he was about the most exciting Met I had seen in my lifetime. He stole 66 bases that season. He was a threat to bunt at all times. All he did was run and wiggle his tongue. He never looked like a baseball player, but his impact almost transcended the game.

He was baseball's biggest distraction. Pitchers were so upset that they let a man on base with such a crazy swing only to be scared shitless at what came next. Losing Cedeno '99 killed me. We don't need to talk about Cedeno '02---SALT.

Where am I going with all of this? I think it is relatively obvious. I think we are slowly discovering Cedeno '99 PLUS in the making... Carlos Gomez.

He is one of the few guys in a long time that I find myself extra glued to the television for on every at bat. I find myself even more tuned in the second he reaches first base. His bunt singles are the most exciting play a Met can produce -- at least in the mind of this soon to be insane blogger.

But it is his speed that really makes my jaw drop. Everyone says he is faster than Reyes. At least from Arizona, this appears to be the case. This kid just flies. VROOM!!!!

Like Cedeno this kid looks a little quirky at times. But Gomez has two things going for him that Cedeno did not. He is 21 to Cedeno '99's 25. And he is supposed to have some legitimate 20 homerun pop.

He is one of those guys that I'll need to believe it to see it. I don't see his swing translating to power as much as others seem to, but then again, what the hell do I know?

What I do know is that we have a real gem here. The kid is a real stud. His speed at the bottom of the lineup will do exactly what Cedeno's did out of the 7 spot in 1999. It will balance the lineup. If the power comes then we have a perennial All Star on our hands.

It is still way too early to tell. For now, just soak in the speed. This lineup could break records.

Vaya,

Sip

(Images courtesy of news.bbc.co.uk and nydailynews.com)

Lucky 7 with Sip

(Note: A piece from Cousin Dan about the Smoltz-Chipper beef follows this one from Sip.)

So many thoughts...

1. Nice weekend. Will all you hypochondriacs take a deep breath? Our boys made a tough team look pretty bad. Good thing we didn't see my boy Danny Haren. That's the best pitcher in baseball we missed this weekend.

Speaking of pitching, 3 runs in 3 games. Not too shabby. Really great to see Glavine and El Duque back on track. Even Mainey's been slow of late. All in all, just a nice spot for the Amazin's this weekend. Good things.

2. Love this west coast skid for the Yanks. The Giants couldn't beat anybody until the Bombers came into town. Back to back Mets win/Yankees losses always warms my baseball heart.

Nice seeing Clemens being a bum, seeing the Yankees back under .500 and back in 3rd place. Would love to see the Yankees drop Clemens from the rotation when Phillip Hughes comes back. Would be a lot like hitting A-Rod 8th or benching Sheffield/Giambi. Woudn't put that one past "Sleeping" Joe Torre.

3. The Cardinals come into town this week. We all know they are banged up and not playing well. Funny thing. Last year they were banged up and not playing well and won the World Series.

Game 5 in St. Louis was one of my darkest moments. The opening series of the season sure was nice. But man do I want these guys embarassed on the field that they embarassed us on 8 months back.

Really sucks that Yadier Molina is hurt. Show me the first Met pitcher to drill him in the back and I show have the newest first and middle name for my first born son. " Oliver Perez Momo?" Not too bad.

4. Just saw Ocean's 13. Is it me or did their crew have like 22 guys? Oh, and what the hell happened in that movie?

5. And most interesting. Cohny and Ronnie were talking about how D-Wright has been taking extra fielding practice at 2B. This could not seem odder. They are such different positions and he is so clearly the Mets 3B of the next 10 years that it would seem almost counter-productive to do so.

UNLESS...

Are the Mets getting ready to make a run at A-Rod this winter? If this is the case and A-Rod jumped ship, would I be forced to like him? I mean, as the pioneer of this Yankee -hating machine, can we really hate a guy that gives the Yankees the biggest possible "Fuck You" and jumps ship to their crosstown rival?

This would be as big of a slap to Yankee fans as Johnny Damon was to Red Sox fans. But in the case of A-Rod, he has a reason to leave. He was treated like shit, #2 to #2 etc. etc. etc. Could this happen?

It does sort of make sense. If A-Rod wants to prove that he can win in New York under the biggest spotlight, then he could do it as a Met. He always wanted to be a Met. It is at least a little interesting.

6. Lastings Milledge for Brian Roberts -- offer it and get it done. Roberts is young and affordable. He would be the absolute perfect fit in the 2-hole. He is fast, can switch hit and is smart enough to let Jose Reyes do his thing. As for Milledge, isn't he #3 on our minor league outfield depth chart anyway?

I also make the exact same move for Mark Buerhle as well. More on the deadline as the deadline approaches, but my instincts tell me, "why not?" If Milledge is injured or has anything but a specatcular year in 2008, then his value will decline. We don't need him with Gomez and Martinez waiting in the wings. So now seems like the time to make a deal.

7. Smoltz vs. Chipper -- Well said by Cousin Dan. This is fun.

Great weekend of Mets baseball and baseball all around for that matter. Hope all is well for everyone reading.

VCD,

Sip

(Images courtesy of digitalderek.typepad.com and i.a.cnn.net)

Trouble in Paradise: Smoltzie vs. Chipper

(Note: Sip will be in with a piece later this afternoon.)

Long time no speak, but it’s Cousin Dan making a rare blog appearance. First off, want to thank the good folks at the Cedar Hill Farm Bed & Breakfast for a great weekend of relaxation and good tips for German food. To paraphrase Mick Foley, I figure a cheap plug never hurt nobody.

But on to my real business here. Anyone who knows me knows that every so often I run into a bit of a philosophical dilemma. Obviously I love the Metropolitans, and am thrilled that they pulled off the sweep over the official AL Team of Cousin Dan, the Oakland A’s. (If you live in Berkeley and can go to a game for a buck on Wednesdays, you’d love ‘em too).

But I am also arguably the biggest John Smoltz fan outside the Atlanta clubhouse. Can’t explain it, but I've been following the guy’s career since he was in Richmond or so.

So, with Smoltzie in the news for, let’s be honest, just an awesome reason, let’s blog. With apologies to the folks at Fire Joe Morgan, who do this much, much better than I do…

Jones says he felt pressured by Smoltz to return to Braves' lineup

Chipper Jones was back in the Braves' lineup Saturday, saying he felt pressured by pitcher John Smoltz to rush back from a groin injury. The Braves had suffered three straight shutout losses for the first time since 1988 entering the game, which they lost 2-1 to Detroit -- despite Jones' homer.

Heartbreaking news about the three straight shutouts. Just so sad.

When asked before the game if he is rushing his return, Jones said, "Probably. But I feel a little backed into a corner." Asked to elaborate, Jones indicated some doubted he was injured enough to miss games. "Let's just say there are people who don't believe me," Jones said. "Let's just say that and leave it at that."

Okay, so as I read on, Larry, I am quite certain that you’re going to “leave it at that.” Right? Just that, right? You’re done. Great.

After Friday night's 5-0 loss to the Tigers, Smoltz said, "You can't worry about who's in the lineup and who isn't. You can't worry about that stuff anymore." Added Smoltz: "I certainly appreciate the effort of the guys who are on the field busting it."

Now, I’m not sure what the question was in regard to, but it seems like Smoltz was stating the obvious. You can only worry about the guys in the lineup. Like the four sweetest words in the English language for Mets fans, “leadoff hitter Willie Harris.” Or Brian McCann, who sure scares the crap out of me a lot for a guy who’s only batting .250. Or Andruw Mendoza. Or something called Yunel Escobar, who plays whenever Larry can’t.

And you can’t worry about a guy whose strained groin may or may not have had anything to do with waitresses at Hooters.

Smoltz didn't identify Jones as a player not in the lineup, but Jones said after Saturday's game that he got the message. "I'd be stupid if I didn't take it the same way," Jones said,

Wait just a minute, I thought you were done! You promised you were done!

adding he planned to "play the rest of the games this year and do whatever I can. Somebody I know better not miss a start."

All right, settle down, Paulie Walnuts. Or what happens? Redneck mafia coming after your Hall of Fame ace? Luckily, Chipper never gets hurt, so he can honestly say he’s gonna “play the rest of the games this year.”

When asked Friday about his sore shoulder, Smoltz said: "We all could wish we were feeling better, but that's the way it goes."

For the record, Smoltz suffered a dislocated pinky a month ago, and made his next start. Then he strained his shoulder, missed one start, and came back to shut down the Boston Red Sox. So when he talks about playing through pain, he isn’t joking.

Jones said he hasn't talked with Smoltz about the pitcher's comments. "I got nothing to say," Jones said.

I bet he has something to say.

"He made his point through the media. Now I'm going to make my point through the media. If he doesn't want to do it man to man, then fine."

Well, I guess that’s something to say, though I’m not sure what “point” Larry is trying to make. Was it the point about the thinly veiled though rather bizarre threat?

The Braves have experienced very little clubhouse turmoil in Bobby Cox's tenure as manager, but Cox may have been aware of building tensions on Saturday. "It's no time to start pointing fingers at people," Cox said before the game. "We'll stay in this together."

“…at least until I get ejected for a record-tying 131st time. Then they’re on their own.”

Jones apparently sustained the injury, which is in the groin area, during Tuesday's game against Boston.

Which I’m sure explains his 0-for-3 that day. Still not convinced it’s un-Hooters-related.

Jones hasn't played a full season since 2003. He's been on the DL four years in a row with a variety of ailments: a hamstring problem three years ago, an injured foot the following season, a strained oblique last year.

So maybe, just maybe, this isn’t the guy who should be yammering about how he’s gonna play every day and somebody shouldn’t miss a start. To conclude:

John Smoltz — maybe the most clutch postseason pitcher of his era, likely Hall of Famer, only pitcher in history with 200 wins and 150 saves.

Chipper Jones — hits the Mets real well, on the DL every damned year, grown man answering to “Chipper.”

I think the choice is clear.

- Cousin Dan

(Image courtesy of images.burntorangenation.com)

Enter Your Rocky Pun Here

Got ahold of Denver Dave Tuesday night. He was doing double duty at some bar in the Mile High City -- watching the Yanks-Rox game on the big screen, and participating in some heavy trivia. Presumably drinking, too, although we didn't get into it. Sounded like a million bucks. The Rox had just gone up 3-1 on N.Y., and all we could do was talk up their chances of sweeping the Bombers out of town.

At that point, I started hearing some weird noise in the background, loud stuff, and Dave stopped talking for a moment. Then, I get this from Dave -- "O.K., this is weird ... the trivia lady is yelling at me for talking on my phone."

Now, can you blame the hostess of Trivia Night for thinking Dave was cheating on the game with a faraway ringer? I don't know that you can. Dave's exactly the type of scumbag that would try to yank out a sub rosa lifeline if he couldn't pick between "lyme disease" or "lupus."

Just kidding. Although in the event any of Y2K's readers ever land on the daytime Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? (that's still on, I think) or some such other game show, remember that Cheddar might be the best lifeline you have.

In any case, as we saw yesterday, the sweep took and the Yankees, who had won 11 of 12 heading into Colorado and scored something like 41 runs during their last 3-game series at Coors Field, managed only five runs in three days and thoroughly embarrassed themselves. That's the type of humiliation we live for at this site. The good stuff. The stuff that makes John Sterling go crazy on air (more on that in a second).

As Dave pointed out, the sweep is even better when you consider how star-struck the opposition was coming into the series. The Rox are, after all, a rather young team, and while they may be playing for a purpose higher than that of yours or mine, they're not above feeling a little earthly awe at times.

Especially, apparently, rookie shortstop Troy Tulowitzki. The kid they call "Tulo" (sounds a little Puerto Rican for Denver, but hey) is, according to a nice little notebook item in the Denver Post, a HUGE fan of The Captain, Derek Jeter. Since way back. Since he was a kid. Since he learned to be really creepy ... oh, take it away, Post:

Troy Tulowitzki grew up idolizing Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter. But his connection goes beyond his No. 2 jersey. He's hoping to get an autographed bat from Jeter during this series.

He already has a gold medallion - sort of. When the Rockies were at Fenway Park, Tulowitzki bugged the clubhouse manager, asking him to come up with any equipment Jeter might have left behind. On the Rockies' last day in Boston, the clubbie proudly announced he found something, handing Tulowitzki a plastic gold necklace with a dollar-sign pendant. It now hangs from his locker.

Yeah, that clubhouse attendant is probably still laughing his ass off with all of the other clubhouse guys. And the Red Sox, for that matter.

Anyway, there were plenty of other reasons for Y2K readers to enjoy the series. Taking the games in reverse order...

6/21/2007 -- Rockies 4, Yankees 3 (WP: Lopez; LP: Clemens; S: Fuentes)

The Rocket being denied Win No. 350 was obviously fine, but we'll get to see that a couple more times, and nobody's going to be that upset when a loss sets him up to try to get the big tuna at home. Yanks fans like to be there for their stupid milestones.

No, the real story in this game was Sterling's unbalanced take on the key moment of the game. In fairness to him, it was in fact the afternoon's deciding play, and it was a particularly appropriate illustration of why Joe Torre has become an awful manager, but still. Anyway, here we go.

Bottom five, score knotted at 2-2, KazMat slaps a one-out single through the middle and steals second by a mile. Matt Holliday knocks him home with another hit up the middle, delightfully fighting off a real tough 3-2 jam pitch, and Clemens is pulled for Mike Myers.

Then the fun starts -- Helton knocks a single over Jeter's glove into left-center, and Holliday (a big hulking guy) doesn't even think twice about trying to take third on Traitor Johnny.

Damon actually uncorks a great throw for him, almost on line and nearly getting Holliday, but not really. Moreover, the guy has no business playing in center at this point, much less in the mid-sized ranch that is the Coors outfield.

Damon's bum wheel forces him to play WAY too deep -- he can either cover the alleys, or he can let basically everything drop in front of him. And when it does, even the arthropods have a standing invitation to take the extra base. So, Holliday gets to third with one out, and Atkins gets him home with a sac fly for a 4-2 lead and the eventual winning run.

Then, in the seventh, Sterling basically went nuts. Melky, who hit for Proctor in the top half of the inning, had taken over in center for Damon (who moved to first). And then basically the same situation develops -- Holliday gets on via a walk with one down, and Helton singles to center.

This time, Holliday takes just as big a turn, but Melky has chased down the ball and fired a strike in behind Holliday to second base. He has to stop and dive back to the bag, just beating Jeter's tag. And, of course, Atkins then flies out to basically the same spot where he earned his sac fly in the fifth, and Colorado is kept off the board.

Well, Sterling hates this. Just HATES this. "There's the difference, right there! That's the play that decides the game!" Ranting and raving about how Melky had made the right play, and you can't give teams extra runs, and defense this and one-run games that. You can hear the bile rising in his throat when he mentions Johnny's name. Just a hideous performance.

6/20/2007 -- Rockies 7, Yankees 1 (WP: Francis; LP: Pettitte)

The Jesus Freak takes the L, and gets hammered in the process, although he didn't need to. The inept Torre left him in there to take a completely avoidable beating during the game-killing four-run 7th inning, with Yanks blogger Steve Goldman particularly irate about it:

Though he hasn't thrown a lot of pitches, Pettitte hasn't exactly looked sharp through any of this. In most other games, Torre probably would have pulled him. It seems as if he was mesmerized by the fact that the pitcher's spot was leading off the next inning.

Long story short, Torre leaves Andy in there to give up an RBI single to Taveras and then the big two-run triple from KazMat before doing what he should have done in the first place -- go to Vizcaino.

Torre went for Vizcaino, so the whole exercise was pointless. Vizcaino allowed an RBI single to Matt Holliday, because Holliday is good and Vizcaino isn't. The headline for this game at MLB.com is "Pettitte Unravels Late." That's not quite accurate. It should be, "Torre fails to rescue Pettitte."

Solidarity, baby! Also, KazMat is hitting .316 with 13 SB in 14 attempts. Just so you know.

6/19/2007 -- Rockies 3, Yankees 1 (WP: Fogg; LP: Mussina; S: Fuentes)

Josh Fogg, ladies and gentlemen. Plus, the Mets can claim an assist on this one for showing the rest of the major leagues just how simple it is to run on Posada and Co. The Yanks actually had a lead in this one, but the Rocks ground back two runs, one each in the third and fifth, with Taveras and Matsui scoring (respectively) after swiping second.

The catcher added a dinger off the Moose (whose ERA is over 5) in the sixth, and there went the hot streak. Good times.

Now, sitting at .500, the Yanks have to fly out to the West Coast for three against San Francisco (30-41), another crap team that the Bombers should handle easily. Heh heh.

My Rut

I woke up Wednesday morning having slept about 4 hours. I tried to fall back asleep but couldn't. I needed a pick me up. I decided I would go to Starbucks to get a cup of coffee.

Welcome to my rut.

I couldn't walk around the corner. I couldn't even go to a shitty deli for a shittier cup of coffee. Instead, I got in my car, soaked in the lovely desert heat that causes me to burn my hand on my seatbelt/steering wheel a couple of times a week and drove. Twenty minutes later and I had my coffee.

I miss cities!!!

I never thought those words would come out of my mouth. But here they are. I hate cars. I hate not being able to walk to get my newspaper or even a soda.

So anger had taken me over.

I watched the Devil Rays vs. Diamondbacks and all I could think of was how fucked up baseball was that I could watch two teams that combined had a payroll $40,000,000 less than the Mets.

I got a terrible stomach ache from the sandwiches that I ate for lunch.

I came home and all I wanted was to watch the Mets win a game. I wanted some good news so I could call AFOMG, complain a little bit about temperatures in the teens (Plus 100) and revel in some good old fashioned baseball.

But the Mets lost. They've been doing a lot of that in fact. 15-19 since I got to Arizona. Coincidence? Me thinks not.

Thank god for those pesky Yankees.

I got a text message from Steamin Mikey Lehman. Something that went like "KAZ!!!."

I wasn't watching the Yankee game, I was seeing some flops preparing for my World Series run, but at least I knew.

Kaz was so bad as a Met that I kind of liked him. He was such an amazing bust that I laughed with him, not at him.

So when Kaz tripled in the bottom of the 7th to seal the win for the red-hot Rockies, there was finally something for Sip to smile about.

It was poetic justice in some ways. He delivered so much pain to us that it was about time he did some pain to the Yankees.

I got home and looked at the box scores.

Seeing the Rockies with a better record than the Yankees made me smile. I took some apple sauce out of my fridge. It tasted great.

I realized that what was going on in my life was pretty much a parallel to life in Mets Land

That is, things haven't been running great of late, but at the end of the day, I am doing pretty damn well. Good friends, family, etc. Yeah, things have been a lot slower than usual, but I am still winning in the old game of life

As are our first place Mets.

One day at a time.

Vaya con dios,
Sip

(Pics courtesy of MLB.com, usa.com)

The End Has No End

The headlines in the Daily News and New York Times sang the same tune: "Back on Track." That was yesterday as sports editors basked in the glory of the Mets' 8-1 win over the Twins on Monday night.

Back on track, eh? Looks like Johan "Free Agent After 2008" Santana didn't get the memo.

Proving once again that momentum is only as good as the next day's pitcher, the Mets got spanked by the Twins last night, losing by a final score of 9-0.

I don't get these people who talk about break-out games either for players or teams. The Mets have lost 12 of their last 15 games, and yet every time they come away with a win, people talk about it as the bust-out win that's gonna get the team going.

People, stop waiting.

It's not that I don't think this team is going to turn it around -- I do. But baseball doesn't work like that. When it happens you won't even know it.

Hell, do you remember that it was that game where Doug Davis outpitched Oliver Perez, a 4-1 loss for the Mets, that started this tailspin? Did it seem at the time that chaos loomed, that two weeks later we'd be where we are?

Of course not. Baseball doesn't work like that. In retrospect you can identify turning points, that's for sure, but in the moment? In the moment all you can do is guess.

The same is true for players. How many times have we heard about Delgado's "break-out" game? You know, like the one on May 26 against the Marlins when he went 3-for-5 with 2 jacks? Or the one three days later in San Francisco when he went 2-for-4 with another 2 home runs?

(The .239 batting average Delgado had at the end of play on May 29 was the highest of the season for Delgado in the months after a .244 on April 14. Yikes.)

The end of these slumps either comes or doesn't. When the end is finally, mercifully upon us, it won't come with a splashy headline in the papers. One day you'll wake up and the Mets will have won 5 of their last 7, and when they have, that's when you can breathe a sigh of relief.

I'm not saying you shouldn't look for signs. God knows I am, and I admit the signs were there on Monday, so I don't blame anyone for getting all excited about that win.

But try to be patient. Give the Mets a chance to win 2 in a row before declaring an end to their woes. Just as this losing streak snuck up on us, so too will the return to normalcy. That's right, I was a history major, so what?

- A.F.O.M.G.

(Note: Images courtesy of baseballevolution.com and i.a.cnn.net)

The Keys to Success: Los Carloses

(Note: A piece by Cheddar Ben follows this one from Sip.)

Chicks dig the long ball. But pitchers are scared shitless of it.

Here in lies the main difference between 2006 and 2007.

The pitching in '07 has been as good if not better. The bullpen has slipped a little bit from innings 6-8 but Billy Wagner has been almost perfect.

There is one major difference in the Mets from this season and the Mets from '06.

Their name is Carlos.

The brothers Carlos, Beltran and Delgado, have been a shadow of their former selves. And so the Mets struggle.

On Monday I watched the Devil Rays play the Diamondbacks. Two teams with a combine zero legitimate power threats between them. I watched the game and never saw a nervous situation.

When you face the Phillies, you never want to get to the spot where Chase Utley and Ryan Howard are coming to the plate.

Against the Sox it is Ortiz and Manny.

Against the Yankees you can really pick your poison.

Against the Braves it's Chipper and Andruw Jones.

Last season, when you faced the Mets, you saw Beltran-Delgado-Wright. Opposing pitchers were terrified. It is one thing to face one big bat but something else entirely to face three absolute monsters.

You have no idea how good our sluggers are till you spend everyday in an NL west ballpark.

In '06, when our big three was on, not only were they generating a ton of runs, but they were also helping out the rest of the lineup. Pitchers breathed a sigh of relief when they saw Xavier Nady or Endy Chavez and both guys had monster years.

This year, the slumps of Beltran and Delgado have been lengthy. When guys slump so badly for so long, pitchers who face them are naturally less concerned. And all of a sudden the lineup grows a little thin.

Over the last couple of games, Carlos Delgado has shown some signs that he is waking up. In this blogger's opinion, he is the key to the lineup.

Carlos Beltran struggles most when he feels the pressure. He sucked in '05 when he was in the new spotlight of NYC. Last year, the expectations were down and he glided to an MVP caliber sesaon. This year, with expectations higher than ever, Beltran has again struggled.

Beltran is the "PERFECT" 2 hitter and a very good 3-hitter.

I love to compare him to Kevin Garnett in basketball. Kevin Garnett is not a great scorer. He is not a great shooter and does not have a great post game.

He is simply so unbeilievable talented that he scores 20 ppg, year in and year out. But KG has only come close to winning once. That was the year when he had Sam Cassell and Latrell Sprewell scoring the basketball. KG did not have to play away from his game. He did not have to focus on scoring. He could simply focus on doing what he does best -- a little bit of everything. This is why I hope he goes to the Celtics and plays with Paul Pierce. I think that team wins the East with ease.

Like Garnett, Beltran's two best seasons came when he wasn't forced to shoulder the load. In '04 he in front of Berkman and Bagwell's 230 RBI (granted, only for half a season). The same happened in '06 in front of Delgado and Wright's 230 RBI.

Carlos Beltran is not a power hitter in the classic power hitting sense. He is not 6'4, 250 LBS and he does not have a long swing.

He is simply so talented at baseball that he is capable of putting up sensational power numbers. He hits 30 home runs because of natural talent. In my opinion, though, Beltran is best when he is being Carlos Beltran, "5 tool baseball player."

Let him play his game, even if that is not what is expected from a 119 million dollar guy. Let him sacrifice when there are runners on 1st and 2nd. Let him take a pitch to allow a batter to steal a base and let him bunt for a base hit.

This is what he does best.

He is the most complete player in the game. His all around talent is unmatched when it comes to overall tools.

But when Carlos Beltran needs to be "Carlos Beltran, Superstar in New York City," that is when he is taken out of his game and he struggles.

This is why Delgado's success is so huge. When Delgado provides the power, Beltran can just be Beltran. He can be Scottie Pippen or Kevin Garnett of baseball. He is the perfect complement. With that, the power will come. But it will come naturally instead of being forced.

This all happen in 2006. We are potentially on the brink of it in 2007. If this happens, then opponents beware.

The Mets are the best team in the National League East with their two most dangerous bats in multi-month long slumps.

This could get sexy.

VCD,
Sip

(Pics courtest of MLBlogs.com, photobucket.com, answers.com)

Stop, In the Name Of/For the Love of God

John Maine's excellent showing last night notwithstanding, the concept of "The Stopper" is bullshit and should be removed from the baseball vocabulary immediately.

You know, The Stopper. The Pitcher Who Ends Losing Streaks. Usually only with His Bare Hands and Green Lantern-Like Force Of Will. Every team has to have one, according to morons.

Curt Schilling is a Stopper, dontcha know.

"When we're on a losing streak," the Red Sox manager said, "he takes it personally." So it seemed Curt Schilling took the mound last night with a grudge -- the Royals had, after all, knocked around Sox pitchers for two games already. But Schilling's vendetta wasn't enough. He allowed 10 extra-base hits, tying the American League record set by Washington's Dale Gear in 1901 and Cleveland's Luis Tiant (againt the Red Sox) in 1969..."

Right.

Linda Cohn, on my 11 p.m. SportsCenter: "John Maine, looking to be the Stopper for the Mets last night against the Twins ..." Well, I guess. But not really. EVERY pitcher is looking to be the stopper after EVERY loss. There weren't any Stop attempts during the Philly series? El Duque wasn't looking to Stop the Yanks Sunday night on national television? (Don't answer that last one.)

With the Mets riding a 5-game losing streak, Oliver Perez was surely looking to be the stopper last Thursday night in the Bronx, and he was. But it came after a day off, so it might not have counted, or something.

Two quick and dirty problems with ever dubbing someone a Stopper, much less permanently.

1) Too much randomness

Starting pitchers have a) no control over when they pitch or who they pitch against, other than the rare and possibly counterproductive suggestion to the skip and b) no control over what happens in the games preceding or following their starts. If there's no losing streak, there can be no Stop -- if they're not in the right spot in the rotation, there can be no Stop. Hell, if they're about to snap a 15-game losing streak and a hurricane rolls in during the top of the fifth inning, there can be no Stop.

And the point would seem to be getting good pitching performances no matter what the circumstances, not glorifying individual and isolated efforts scattered throughout a 162-game season. A 7-inning, 2-hit start from Jorge Sosa tonight against Johan Santana in a 3-1 win over Minnesota would be extremely valuable, and a huge boost to New York (beating the best pitcher in the game and all that). Would it be more valuable had the Mets lost on Monday? The long and involved answer involves a lot of maybes and whatnots and wherefores and predicting what might have happened, but the honest answer is, "Of course not."

2) Too few chances

For all the reasons listed above, how many chances does any one starter get to Stop a losing streak during a season? Now, it's an early and lazy day here in Buffalo, and I'm going to go ahead and answer my own question without bothering to look up the answer, but it's just not that many. The losing streak should be significant (at least four games), so no pitcher on any decent team is going to get more than 3 or 4 chances to Stop during the course of a season.

No reputations should be made or broken based on the results of a couple of starts. It's pointless.

Now, Maine was awesome last night. As someone named Mike Puma (stage name alert!) pointed out in the Post, it was his best game in two months, the first win in almost a month, that sort of thing.

Even better, he threw exactly the type of game all of us want to see from the Maine Event -- one where his control was on point. Monday, he could have thrown a fastball through a soup can from 500 feet. He threw 77 of 115 pitches for strikes, first-pitch strikes by the bushel, got ahead of a rather free-swinging Minnesota team all night long.

Only four strikeouts, though. A lot of pitching to contact. We prefer that style from the kid, of course. In the long run, as a guy without a dominant out pitch or killer fastball, Maine's control will determine his fate. We don't want him to be a nibbler -- we want him to be pounding the strike zone at Citi Field for the next 8 years.

But in the short run, pitching to contact creates more opportunities for a team to put the ball in play, and opens the door to all types of randomness and luck. (This is true, incidentally, whether or not you're a big DIPS believer or not). In any given game, a pitcher can influence its outcome far more directly and reliably by trying to dominate the hitters, by not giving anyone anything to hit and hoping that your stuff is good enough to prevail. Nolan Ryan-style. What a Stopper.

Maine tries to do that occasionally, and the results aren't great. Monday night, he sat back, threw bullets and let the odds work in his favor. They did, and it was the right call all the way. It was a great way to snap a nasty stretch for the Mets, especially with ol' Johan pitching at Shea tonight. (Don't miss it).

But it weren't no Stop. Let's move on.

Things Will Turn Around

These last two days have been some of my worst.

SATURDAY

Early Saturday morning I lost my wallet. License, credit cards and most importantly, two ticket stubs. One from Game 5 of the 1999 NLCS. The second, June 30, 2000, the day the Mets scored 10 runs in the 8th inning to beat the Braves.

I woke up on Saturday miserable. The only thing that could cure my pain was Mets baseball.

It was not on TV. Had to wait till 1 p.m. for Red Sox vs. Giants if I wanted to watch baseball.

The Mets lost and as you know, it always looks uglier on Gamecast.

SUNDAY

Still no wallet. It's Father's Day. I love my dad. Everyone who meet him does. I plan on calling him that evening when I get home from a day out on my buddy Coach's girlfriend's boat.

The boat is very pleasant. Made me forget my troubles for at least a little while. We get home, I check my cell phone, it is 8:45 PM. Too late to call my dad on father's day

I FEEL TERRIBLE.

Oh, and of course I miss the Mets game. One thing I didn't mention was that we were stranded on the side of the highway for a couple of hours with a flat tire, delaying our arrival to the lake, bumping back our lake time. It was 110 degrees of death.

Anyway, I send an email and I even got him a gift. But that is not enough. I feel like I let down the one guy I don't want to let down.

I don't enjoy Entourage because my "shitty sonness" is in the back of my mind. I just want this day to end.

I purposely don't find out about the Mets score. My plan is to watch it at 12:00 on ESPN.

I arrive home at 11:55. I turn on my computer and see what happened in the game. WHOOPS!

Day could not get worse.

It is 4 minutes until it is Monday. Thank god. Losing 2 of 3 to the Yankees sucks. But at least we got to Clemens. I hate him.

FINALLY IT'S MONDAY

12:00 hits. You know where I stand with the Mets. They'll be ok. Long season, calm yourself.

Then, my fate starts to turn. I check my voicemail and there is a message from a cab driver. HE FOUND MY WALLET! You have no idea how much stress this brought me. VICTORY!!!

I check some text messages. I got a message out of nowhere from this girl that I haven't spoken to in a while but definitely consider a Top 3 Wifey candidate. I'm pleasantly surprised.

And then I checked the standings.

Nothing could be worse for the Mets these days and we are still 3 games up in the loss column on the Phils and Braves.

The world tried to bring Sip down. Baseball tried to bring the Mets down.

But Sip bounced back.

And you know what that means.

Dad, I love you and am sorry I didn't get you on the phone on your day. To Hound and the rest of the father's out there, a very happy father's day.

And to all of us Mets fans. Remember.

IT'S MONDAY!!!!

SM

(Image courtesy of looptvandfilm.com)

Head on Collision

(Note: This piece contains a vaguely NSFW picture that you're probably looking at right now.)

The Mets have lost 5 games in a row, and 9 of their last 10. As was discussed yesterday, they look worse than Tom Hanks in the last half hour of Philadelphia.

The Yankees have won 9 games in a row. After months of shittiness, all of a sudden the Yankees can't lose. They look better than Ali Larter in the whip cream bikini.

Sickly Tom Hanks vs. Hot Ali Larter isn't exactly how any of us would have drawn it up, but hey, we don't deal the cards, we just play the ones we've got.

So it's a shitty feeling right now. The vulnerability is palpable. A sweep at the hands of the Yankees would be too much to endure. We could fall out of first for the first time in a long time, but worse than that is the entire climate of the city would change, baseball-wise. Big brother restored; little brother, know your role.

So in many ways this is a scary series, but it's also a tremendous opportunity. Who better to turn it around against than the Yankees? Who better to snap the Yankees' 9-game winning streak than the Mets? Think of the glory... my god, the glory!

The more I think about it, the more it reminds me of 1999. It was Mets-Yankees in the Bronx and if memory serves the Bombers took the first two of the series, sending the Mets' losing streak to 8 games. I think that brought our record to something like 28-27. A strong team was underachieving. It was decided a change had to be made.

General Manager Steve Phillips fired three coaches; the hitting coach was one of them, the other two I'm not sure (Bob Apodaca ('Dac!) maybe?). The Mets went on to win the final game of the series, and later finished the season with 97 wins, the final one coming in a one-game playoff against the Reds to loft the Metsies into the playoffs.

In that case, the Mets made a dramatic move after a deep slide. This time around, I don't know that that would happen. Of the coaching staff, I gotta think Willie, Jerry Manuel, Rick Peterson and HoJo are untouchable. The only one who's vulnerable is Rick Down, particularly with Carlos Delgado mired in a season-long slump and the lineup, as a whole, underachieving.

Down may not deserve the blame for their inability to drive in runners from third with less than 2 out or drive in any runners in scoring position, but as they say, you can't fire the players so you fire the coaches.

I'm really just speculating here, mostly because I'm tired of talking about the Mets losing. Me and Sip are on record saying we're not altogether too concerned about this slide. Our attitude: It's frustrating, it sucks, but the Mets are better than this, there are only so many wins and losses in a hot or cold streak, as all things do, this too shall pass. Blah blah blah.

And who knows, maybe they win tonight? And maybe then they win tomorrow, and the next day? Maybe three months from now as the Mets charge closer and closer to 95 wins we say with a chuckle, Remember that horrible stretch in mid June?

For now let's just entertain that possibility, shall we? Enjoy your weekends everybody.

- A.F.O.M.G.

(Images courtesy of ngdev.net and baseball-almanac.com)

Relax...

I got a text from my favorite rapper, co-lead singer of Team Facelift, the Fat Jew about half way through the Mets game on Wednesday.

It read:

"The Mets look worse than Tom Hanks in the last half hour of Philadelphia."

Not the most appropriate way of putting it, but it sure did get the point across.

I told my cousin not to panic when he told me was panicking, this afternoon. I told the same thing to his future wife and Jersey Shore legend "Friend Lisa" at about the same time.

He asked me how the ultimate Mets pessimist could be so optimistic. I told him, as I always like to claim, that I was being realistic.

Half of you counted the Yankees out on the 1st of June with over 100 games to play. Half of you are probably freaking out now that "the bullpen is done," "The lineup won't bounce back," etc. etc. etc.

From my stand point, there is one thing to worry about and that is the starting rotation. The reason: we were worried about it before the season.

Is Oliver Perez this good?

Has John Maine lost the magic that he had in the first six weeks of the season?

Can El Duque pitch like an ace, when he was run out of Arizona last year?

Jorge Sosa???

If the Mets can't pitch, they are screwed. But otherwise, stop worrying.

This is baseball. This is not football or the NCAA tournament. The season is the longest marathon in sports, not the shortest sprint.

Remember when David Wright was 0-for-April? He looks ok now, right?

All you are going to do is drive yourself nuts. If you take any sign of weakness as a full blown chink in the armor, then you will go mad.

The fact is, the Mets are the best team in the National League East. As badly as they have played over the last 2 weeks, they remain in first place.

I write this piece because I want Happy Will to step back from the edge. I write it because the Yankees are now 5.5 games out of the playoffs and 8.5 back of Boston and right now, playing the best baseball in the game.

I write it because the Phillies are right back in the thick of things after everyone thought they were out in April.

This is a game of ups and downs. Last year was not normal for anyone, especially the Mets. No team stays hot for 162 games. It's not realistic.

So watch every game, soak in the season and appreciate the beauty of baseball. But, calm yourselves. This is not the time to sweat.

VCD,
Sip

(Pics courtesy of msn.com, peglegnyc.com)

The Blurst of Times

I've fallen in to an ugly routine the last four days. Whether it's because of personal obligations like the wife's grandfather's 80th birthday or a flight back to New York, or if it's because I'm not as young as I once was and can't stay up watching these West Coast games, I haven't been able to watch much of the Mets' recent slide.

Come to think of it, it's not just the last four days, it's really the entirety of the Mets' 9-game slide. I've seen innings here and there, but haven't had the "pleasure" of watching the boys go out there and get their asses kicked. My life with the Mets the past week has consisted of trips over to ESPN.com, Mets Fast Forward on SNY, and, of course, the backpages of the local tabloids.

What is abundantly clear is that these are pretty lousy times to be a Mets lover and a Yankee hater. I try to keep it in the right perspective. I try to remind myself that through the first 50 games the Mets were up and the Yankees down, pretty much night after night.

Whatever, I still feel good about this team. It would be different if I felt like the components weren't there or that the mix of the players wasn't right, but by and large I don't feel that way.

Sure, I have serious reservations about Julio Franco and Scott Schoeneweis, and yes, I even have somewhat serious doubts about Carlos Delgado by this point.

But I feel good about the team as a whole, and I think it will round in to form. I often recall Bobby Valentine's old adage about teams in the midst of a hot or a cold streak. No team was as good as it appeared during a hot streak nor as bad as it appeared during a cold streak. The truth was somewhere in between.

The Mets have been on a cold streak for 9 games now, losing 8 of them. Before that happened we were 35-19, 16 games over .500. Sure we've played some good teams in this stretch, but it's not like we didn't play any good teams in the heady times before we hit the skids.

Losing sucks. As Metstradamus said the other day, "food tastes better, traffic moves faster, and air smells less smoggy when your favorite team wins." God knows my food has been less tasty, my subway rides more protracted, and my air has carried a horrific smell of smog the past 10 days, but I remain optimistic nevertheless.

And I'm pretty sure it's not because I haven't been watching the past week and change. It's because deep down I think this team is more the team from the first 54 games, and less the team from the past 9 games.

And deep down, I'll bet you think that, too.

Anyway, that's all I got for today. Now let's salvage this series with a win tonight before heading into our showdown in the Bronx.

- A.F.O.M.G.

(Image courtesy of allthewrightstuff.mlblogs.com)

Willie's World?

(Note: Cheddar Ben returns from the disabled list immediately following this piece from Sip.)

With the exception of a September swoon that came when the NL East was already good and locked up, last year the Mets did not go in any real funks. It seemed like any time they lost a couple of games in a row they would turn it around and run off 5 of 6 or something handsome like that.

These past ten days have the been definition of "a funk." We've lost 7 of 8 and 9 of 12 games.

There is one person that I want to call out: Willie Randolph.

I believe we are entering the classic stage of overconfidence. Think back to 2006. The Mets were almost boringly consistent. Every night it was:

Reyes
Lo Duca
Beltran
Delgado
Wright
Floyd
Nady (RIP)/Green
Valentin
Pitcher

Me and AFOMG would make fun of Willie for being boring. Every day it was the same stale lineup. Funny thing though; the Mets never went stale.

It seems like every day I tune in a Mets game I'm seeing Willie Randolph trying to show off the Bobby V in him.

Shawn Green hitting 2 one night, 6 another.

David Wright and Delgado playing roulette between the 4 and 5 spots.

It seems like outside of Reyes and Beltran at 1 and 3 we are seeing a different lineup every night. And I think this is a big mistake.

When Bobby V used to tinker with his lineup he was throwing out Mike Piazza, Eddy Alfonzo and then a bunch of guys like Timo Perez (RIP), Benny Agbayani (RIP) or Melvin Mora (RIP).

These guys were at the time a collection of stiffs. Bobby needed to be creative. Bobby's shuffling became the identity of the Mets offense -- along with Piazza of course -- and this formula was relatively succesful.

Remember, Robin Ventura and Todd Zeile were are 5-6 in 2000. They sure were likable dudes, but I think they combined to hit about .230.

Willie has been doing to the Mets in '07 what Joe Torre tried to do in '06. He is trying to be too fine a manager.

The Mets in '07, like the Yankees of '06, have the most talented lineup in their respective league. When you are the best, there is no reason to be cute.

The best players need to undo their kinks on their own. Every Met in the lineup has proven that he can be succesful. He does not need to be danced around the lineup to "wake him up."

I don't know why Willie has changed this year. Last year he could not have gone more by the book if he tried.

Is it ego? Maybe.

I think it may be that he has too much time on his hands now that he has stopped eating so many fresh toasted subway subs.

Joe Torre used to be as a stiff as a board in the 90's. The Yankees were the best team and the Yankees won.

Torre threw out the same lineup every day:

Knoblach
Jeter
O'Neill
Williams
Tino
Posada

with a few other randoms floating at the bottom.

Combine that with the most dominant righty-lefty bullpen combo (Nelson/Stanton) and the best closer (Rivera) and I could have managed the Yankees from my high school Chemistry class.

But Joe Torre is a genius, of course.

Another funny thing happened over time. Torre was branded a god and the Yankees stopped winning championships. Torre started hitting the best player of our generation 8th (A-Rod) and benched two of the ten most dangerous hitters of our generation in consecutive playoff games (Giambi, Sheffield).

Torre over-managed.

It's like when a band has a hit song and then ruins it in a concert by trying to play some weird version just because they think they can.

OR

When a blogger who writes about baseball tells you stories about his own poker adventures just because he can. What kind of douchebag does that?

I think the manager in baseball is the most overrated coach in sports. His job as a strategist is overrated.

Anyone can know to bring in a lefty to face a lefty. But most people don't understand the intricacies of blitz schemes or how to draw up the perfect basketball play based on how a team is defending you.

In baseball, the manager's job is to massage egos. When you have the egos of the best players, just let them play.

When the manager tries to become bigger than the team, that is when the team is at its weakest. Look at what is going down at Wrigley as we speak.

Am I nuts here?

VCD,
Sip

(Pics courtesy of Allposters.com, USToday.com)

Cheddar Ben Reloaded

What's he doing?

He's beginning to believe.

They said it would never happen, they being the Y2K haters who pop up from time to time on the underground message boards to spew smack and talk nonsense. They said it was a pipe dream, a pie-in-the-sky fantasy. No chance. Game over.

They said he was out of the biz, that he was washed up. That injuries and time had caught up with his game. That he had just taken too much punishment, too many hits, that there was too much Ryan Freel in him (R.I.P.) Nice job, thanks for playing, enjoy the gold watch.

They said this blogger would never dance again.

Clearly, they were wrong.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Y2K devotees and doubters alike, the circle is once more complete. He went eight rounds with inflammatory bowel disease, scoring a controversial TKO in the ninth round; a rematch has been called for, but for the time being, he's back on the Internets for his and your writing pleasure.

I mean, let's face it -- the Oracle told all of you that you would fall in love, and that man would be The One. So you see, he's back ... because you love me. You hear me?

It's Cheddar Ben Reloaded.

And it feels fantastic, let me tell you. There's been so much missed in the past month, so much happening to the New York teams that's only been addressed in my own head. The entire Mets outfield died protecting Zion, for God's sake -- that was pretty damn disturbing.

Even more so for me, if you can imagine that. You've got to look at it this way -- time works very strangely when you're in the hospital. First of all, you're not on your own schedule -- you're on their schedule. Your existence is a function of the people that come into your room and stick you with a needle or give you pills to take or fuck with your catheter or bring you some glue to sniff.

Not that last one. Much.

Moreover, when you're in the exact same spot on the 14th floor of a white-walled prison for, say, 10 straight days, things start to drag a little bit. Time in between set events -- meals, doctors' pop-ins, visits -- start to stretch out into neverending rainbows of blank minutes. Sure, you've got your reading materials and your television and your imagination (note: not necessarily a good thing), but the payoff from these things isn't the same as it is on the outside.

You're not reading -- you're burning time. You might watch a movie on TNT, but you're burning time. Every event, even stuff you'd be doing even if you weren't connected to a six-foot IV pole by a tube running into your superior vena cava, becomes a function of how many seconds it can consume. The evil definition of pasttime, if you will.

But hold on. Here we have an exception.

There could have been no knowing that the hospital cable system in Western New York would carry, there on Channel 27, a beacon of hope. There could have been no knowing SNY, the television home of the New York Mets, had spun its web right up to the U.S.-Canadian border, carefully coating each house and building with its silky touch. There could have been no knowing that each night or afternoon, the Mets would be beamed right to me via the wonders of technology.

Still, there it was.

I can't stress how much having a Mets game to watch each night or afternoon kept me going. It was stupid how much I looked forward to these things, planning my entire time-wasting schedule around having to be awake and engaged and available from 7 to 10 p.m. or what have you. "O.K., I'll read from 9:30 to 11, and then call these people, and then get my brother in here in the afternoon, and then take a nap, and then kick everyone out at 6:45." Stuff like that. This was how I kept myself going.

Plus, when you're chilling in a bathrobe and you've both intentionally and unavoidably NOTHING else to do, you really watch the game. I mean, you concentrate like you're taking a test on it later. None of this floating around, up to the fridge to get a drink, folding your laundry, stepping out to sniff some glue shit. None of, bless his heart, A.F.O.M.G.'s "Friday night games are tough" talk.

You are damn sure focused on the situation at hand. You listen to every word Keith and Gary and Ron have to say, and you immediately mull it over. You analyze every tactical decision on the spot. This tends to result in a rather ample frequency of yelling at the screen, but hey, that goes with the territory.

And you care. My God, do you care. "If Newhan can just get this bunt down, I might get out of here a day earlier." My God, are you invested in the game. Not fully delusional, mind you, but just enough that you might forget about your surroundings for a couple of hours, or until the unqualified and vaguely familiar night nurse comes to stick you with your third Heparin shot of the day.

Let there be no question, then. Not only does "Absent From the Y2K Scene For a Month" not equate to "Is Out of It," but indeed the opposite. Like a fox who's just chewed off his own foot to get out of a bear trap, I'm (ironically) hungrier than ever, and ready to start hitting these Yanks hard and praising these Mets to the stars.

It's what I want to do. It's what you want me to do. It's what Dozer would have wanted.

Fuck the machines. The war isn't over, but the ranks have just been reinforced. Big time.

Let's go.

Everything's Not Lost Part XII

This weekend should have sucked.

The Mets really looked pretty vulnerable against one of the American League's finest.

The Yankees swept the Pirates, got a decent $1,000,000 out of Roger "I Put up Steve Trachsel Numbers" Clemens, and are, surprise, surprise, 5.5 games out of the Wild Card and right back in the thick of things.

I think since me and AFOMG were called out for "going soft" the Yankees are about 12-2. Salt.

When things don't go well in baseball world, we here at Yankees2000.com are supposed to be pissed. But Sunday was a huge day for one of the Holy Trinity of bloggers here at Y2K.

Bored and fresh off a long, long Saturday at Chase Field, Sip needed some time away from the ballpark. Additionally, Sip is relatively friendless in Arizona as well. My boy Coach is gone for the Summer as his main-hommy Yanni #2, leaving me with my psycho meathead buddy Habes who carries around a portable protein shake maker and gets in brawls in softball games and not a whole lot else.

So when this dude Russell who I know vaguely invited me to Casino Arizona for a poker tournament, I said why not. I blog, who needs $60?

(Note: I stretch $60 a long way these days)

I got there at about 11:30.

It was the most depressing place I had ever seen. Demons were everywhere. People gambling away their salaries at 11:30 on a fucking Sunday in a shady/shoddy/shitty casino in the middle of nowhere. There were no bright lights or flashing signs.

Just out of shape, slightly too-old women packed into a uniform that was not appealing, serving drinks to a lot of Middle-Americans.

For breakfast I ate a sausage and cheese biscuit from the diner. I was sure I had food poisoning.

I never thought I could hit rock bottom until Sunday morning.

The tournament started with no surprises. There were 300 people talking in poker cliches and dressed in poker attire. These people all thought that they were Phil Ivey. I'm pretty sure the guy three seats to the left of me was the really fat guy from Fight Club. His heavy breathing may have been distracting but it sure did help me focus.

Demons everywhere. People telling poker stories, sharing tales of badbeats, calling each other "Donkey," and referring to everything as "Sick." Poker is officially the most cliched thing around.

Fast forward 10 hours and the one "Non-Sick-Donkey" in the room was one of the final 2 men standing. He was about 12 club sodas deep and had even developed a cheering section of crazy senior citizens who claimed that he looked like their grandson.

He had been known previously as a legend of the blogosphere but had quickly made a name for himself in the Disgusting Arizona Casino poker scene. He's young, he's gritty, and yet so polished.

That man was Sippy Momo.

On Friday July 6th, I will be toeing the felt with 10,000 other some odd people at the Rio in Las Vegas in the main event of the World Series of Poker.

If I win it all, AFOMG is getting season tickets on the field level, Cheddar will get some turntables for his rapping and I will finally be able to get my folks out of the projects and buy them their very first house!

More likely, I'll just have a good story. But we here are Mets fans (most of us anyway), so I'm going to go into this dance like we do everyday at Shea.

Ya Gotta Believe!

That's all.

But one more thing. You think Shana Hiatt will change her name to Shana Momo?

Vaya con Dios,
Sip

(Pics courtesy of MLB.com, indiangaming.com, everypoker.com)

Clemens' Cubist Phase

Michael Kay, just now on YES, in his own words:

"Imagine being a young kid down there trying to make the big leagues. It would be like learning to pitch from Picasso."

P.S. Coming this week -- Cheddar Ben Reloaded

Legends of the Upper West Side

It's a sore and sweaty A.F.O.M.G. coming at you this afternoon. Like many other companies out there, the place I work at has a policy of asking all employees to spend one day of the year working on a community-minded effort (not mandatory, just not not mandatory).

These projects can be any number of things (caring for the elderly, Habitat for Humanity, assisting with schoolchildren, etc.). Me, I make a point out of getting outside and using my hands, and so it was that me and 21 other members of [insert company name here] shoveled, scraped and spaded our little hearts out building the Great Berm of 108th and Riverside Park.

A berm is basically a little hill of soil that prevents rain water, 40 juice or urine from spilling into areas where they're not intended. Why they're not intended for these areas wasn't quite clear to me. What was clear to me was that by the time we were done, we had built just about the best berm you're likely to see in this little town of ours. And when the other side of that berm is flush with wildlife, well, you can thank us later.

Today was an uncommonly beautiful day outside, so rather than hoof it back to the 1 train or bus it home, I decided to walk back home through Riverside Park.

I'm glad I did it. Along the way home I saw the ballfields of my youth, the old dirt doublefields where the real Momo used to sock dingers against a young fireballer named A.F.O.M.G. (and just about anyone else the West Side Little League could throw at the guy).

The real Momo was that kid who hit puberty in about the 3rd grade and had all the coaches and parents asking to see the birth certificate. He was a beast.

The fields have a different look to them now. Nicely groomed grass now coats the side of the field where right-handed batters used to try and hit it over the Beige Monster in left, and there's an actual fence now to tee off against.

The field where lefties would tee off against the Beige Monster is now some soccer-lax multi-purpose piece of liberal bullshit. Oh well, there were always people playing soccer in the outfield anyway so maybe it's best to have a permanent line of demarcation between the two (the outfield fence).

Exiting the park I headed up to West End Avenue, passing the old West Side Montessori School where I cut my teeth and past the ivy-clad building whose exterior served as the office for Mr. Pitt on Seinfeld.

And for me, the little trip down memory lane and the satisfaction of a berm well built was enough to get my mind off of the shittiness of the game last night.

I mean, teams go through rough patches. Generally speaking you hope those rough patches come against teams you're not in direct competition with, but even after the sweep Philly's still 5 games back, Atlanta 3.5. Our swoon comes as virtually every member of our outfield has gone on the disabled list, but most of those guys will be back sooner rather than later.

The only truly distressing aspect of the sweep was how shaky our bullpen was. There had been a general discomfort level with Aaron Heilman and Scott Schoeneweis just about all season, but this week it got truly nasty, with the home fans booing lustily first at Heilman and then at Schoeneweis.

But what are you gonna do? You could DL Schoeneweis, who seems to have some leg issue or another, but what about Heilman? Nothing you can do but let him pitch his way out of it, unless you think the past 2 months of shaky pitching completely lays waste to the past 2 years of his career.

I think this is just the ebb and flow of the game. Players get injured and teams lose their edge. Shawn Green will be back soon. Moises Alou will be back soon, or he won't be, it's really hard to know. And more than likely the Mets will round back in to form. They were 35-19 through 54 games; knowing what we know after 58 games should we really worry that much?

If anything, worry that the Phils are better than their record, or worry that we haven't played very well against the NL East. But this Mets team will be fine, don't you worry.

And if you have to worry, well, maybe think about taking a little walk around the area you grew up in. I'll get another chance to do something like that tonight and tomorrow in Chicago as I travel to the home of A.F.O.Mrs.G.

- A.F.O.M.G.

(Images courtesy of skatecity.com and newsday.com)

An Intriguing Day

A day like today should be a good New York baseball fan's salt. Mets lose to the Phils. Yankees beat anyone. AND the Stanley Cup is done. Not that cool.

But today is one of the most intriguing days in my recent baseball memory.

Not because Trevor Hoffman's 500th save all but assures me my $5,000 bet that I made with Kenny from Camp a few years back regarding whether Hoffman would make the Hall of Fame.

Nope. Today, for the first time, we will get to watch live coverage of the first round of the MLB player draft.

In my opinion, baseball has one true flaw. That is, 9 times out of 10, especially with guys not on your team, no one has ever heard of the young kids being called up to play in the big leagues.

I'd imagine that the average Mets fan knows of the Phil Humbers and the Mike Pelfreys. They probably also know about the Phil Hughes' playing across town.

But does anyone know who is making noise in Kansas City? How bout in Arizona, where let's just say, since Sip came on board, the team cannot lose.

It's not our fault. College Baseball isn't big like College Football or College Basketball. I watch the College World Series and I enjoy it. But I don't know a single thing about Rick Porcello of Seton Hall Prep (Projected to go #2 by Baseball Prospectus). How in god's name would I?

Well today this flaw will be slightly corrected, which for Sip, is a start.

Set your tivo's or ditch work or better still work for a baseball team. Because today at 2 p.m. we learn about the top players being selected into the big leagues. And we can finally take opinions off of ESPN that might mean something to us. It won't be some annoying sportscaster yelling as loud as they can or speaking in cliches, because they know the audience doesn't want that.

Today, we the baseball fan gets a slight education.

I'm excited.

Oh yeah. Tonight, we have an NBA Finals that I am actually excited to watch. Haven't said that in a while.

Tonight we see what LeBron can do. It's so intriguing. He is so far ahead of Michael Jordan and he really has the potential to be so much more. He has 2 more inches and 15 more pounds. He is a better athlete and a ball handler.

Jordan became a dominant player about 5 years into his career when he developed an unstoppable post-game. He became the perfect scorer for Tex Winters' Triple-Post Offense (Triangle Offense) and the Bulls became unstoppable.

The NBA is a one-on-one game and Lebron can become the greatest one-on-one player of all time. Wait till he is 25 and he develops his offensive game. He will become an impossible guard.

But tonight, we will get our first glimpse at what happens when a one man show (the rest of the Cavs could be Knicks) takes on a perfectly efficient NBA club.

It might not be LeBron's time. I'm not going to pick a winner. No fun to pick the Spurs and too easy to pick the Cavs. But at +500 at least there is some value to make a play on the Cavs and have a little fun.

Vaya con dios,

Sip

(Pics courtesy of MLB.com, art.com)

Memories of FTH, and Other Impressions from Fenway

The Glass Man's struggling today, team. Late night last night for my work group's annual dinner outing. Let's say 8 frozen margaritas and three at-the-time-good-idea-now-really-horrifically-stupid beers later and I'm hungover as shit. So what am I wearing today? Pink! Remember when Pete Harnisch was depressed as shit and he wore that sunshine pin on his cap? That's kind of how this is.

Anyway, a further consequence of my group outing is that I missed the entirety of the game last night. Pretty sure that's the first time this year that that's happened, but I could be mistaken. Friday night games are always tricky.

So I can't quite talk about the game last night now can I? Instead, I'm going to talk about my experience over the weekend at the Yankees-Red Sox game at Fenway Park.

Fenway Park, in case you didn't know, is beautiful. I've been to only so many stadiums, but of the ones I've seen, Fenway is easily the nicest, and if you've got a good seat, it's one of the best places to watch a ballgame because the stadium is so small and intimate. Fenway's fucking hot, OK?

So me and A.F.O.Mrs.G were camped in the right field bleachers. See that picture there? we were under the Dunkin' Donuts sign, about halfway between the field and the sign.

They'll never build a stadium like this again, but one of the really nice things about Fenway is how everyone is seated right on top of each other. You sort of can't help but get in to it with the other fans in your area.

And so it was that the guy seated in front of me asked if wearing my Mets hat was my passive aggressive way of supporting the Yankees, and I had to explain to him my millenarian hatred of the Yankees.

And so it was that when a fan pulled the old propose-at-the-ballpark trick on his girlfriend (gotcha!), I commented on how lucky that girl was, living out every girl's dream like that.

And so it was, finally, that I witnessed first hand the most stunning turnaround in -- I don't know what, fellow-fan perception? -- that I'd ever seen.

Sitting two seats directly over from A.F.O.Mrs.G. was about the biggest loudmouth Yankee fan jerk I've ever encountered. Bottom of the first inning, somebody on the Sox grounds into an inning ending double play. This guy, who looked like a fat Tom Hanks (FTH we'll call him), took this routine play as an opportunity to rise to his feet and cry at the top of his lungs, "YEEEEEEAH JETAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!! JETAAAAAAAAAH!!!!! ISN'T THAT WHAT HE'S CALLED AROUND HERE? JETAAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!?

(I'm sorry for the all-caps, but I think it probably makes reading the text that much more annoying, the better to convey how horrfying this display from FTH was. The worst part was that you knew he'd been waiting desperately for his first chance to unleash this horribly unfunny line on the crowd.)

Around this time, FTH began making some friends in the seats nearby, and so began the first "Yankees suck" catcalls of the day. FTH wasn't fazed; as a matter of fact, he seemed to have a sense of humor about how badly the Yankees were doing, saying, "Of course we suck, we're 7 games under .500!" FTH also joined in on several chants of "12 games back! 12 games back!"

It's a routine I know well. Hell, self-deprecating humor about how terrible the Mets were was huge back in 2004. But it just doesn't work coming from a Yankee fan, not with the players they've got, not after 12 straight playoff appearances. You could tell that underneath the wisecrackery lurked the certainty that not only would the Yankees make the playoffs yet again, but the Red Sox would blow their lead sooner or later.

So FTH wasn't anybody's favorite; he was quite despised actually for much of the first 6 innings or so. Then something startling happened. It pains me to say it, really. I'd love to tell you that FTH, or at least some other Yankee fan, was the most obnoxious fan I encountered that day, but the truth is it was a belligerent Red Sox fan who earned that distinction.

This impish Sox fan had the classic little man's chip on his shoulder, and basically tried taunting FTH in to a fight. FTH, who, incidentally, was a really big guy, cleverly teased the belligerent Sox fan about his height, his lisp, and his receding hairline.

Things got ugly though when the Sox fan made a crack about taking down FTH's girlfriend. You could see FTH boiling on the inside, gripping the side of his chair before shouting back, "your fucking dick wouldn't even fit inside her!" Now that's a line that can be interpreted in any number of different ways, but at the time it sounded sufficiently adversarial, so score that one for FTH.

Ultimately, the Sox fan was kicked out of the stadium. I'm not sure what for exactly, but I was happy to see him go. He had glared at me and said something about my Mets hat, and for a brief moment there I considered the possibility that me and FTH would have to drag him out and beat the shit out of him. Never happened.

Stunningly though, after the Sox fan was ejected, another Red Sox fan in the row right in front of us turned around, shook FTH's hand, and admiringly told him "you were the bigger man." The fact that FTH had gone from the Yankee-boosting asshole in the crowd to "the bigger man" was truly startling.

Anyway, the Sox won the game. After dragging the wife to a few clunkers at Shea, it was nice to bring her out to a high-scoring, seesaw type of game.

Not every aspect of our day at Fenway was positive, however. Around the 2nd inning or so, A.F.O.Mrs.G. learned that her best friend's dog, Socs, had died. This reminded A.F.O.Mrs.G. of when her doggie Zoe died after eating poisonous flowers last November. And that reminded me of when my team died after a Yadier Molina home run last October. It was all pretty depressing.

On the whole though it was a great day out at the Olde Towne ballpark. If you've never been to Fenway, go. It's really a phenomenal baseball-viewing experience. I love Shea but when you go to Fenway you're reminded of everything a truly great ballpark should be. Here's looking at you, Citi Field.

- A.F.O.M.G.

(Images courtesy of bostonist.com and boston.com)

The Tension Builds

Real quick, a happy birthday to the real Sip, my old friend, owner of my pen name and ring leader of the most dangerous undercover dental movement in upstate NY.

Now to business.

I could not be more fired up for Saturday. The debut of the Texas fireballer. The strike out machine arrives. The hypewagon hits the midwest.

You all know what I'm talking about, right?

It's Homer Bailey time.

This kid is supposed to be the best pitching prospect in baseball and he is making his debut against my beloved Tribe in the battle for Ohio. Its shit like this that helps an otherwise overheated blogger to get out of bed in the morning. That and work. SALT.

Oh yeah. Saturday is supposed to mark the debut of our other favorite Texas gunslinger. You may remember him with tears running down his eyes and a towel draped around his head in October of 1986. He was the best pitcher in baseball back then. Some argue that he may be the best pitcher in baseball now, 21 years later.

Monday's loss to the sluggish White Sox brought the Yankees to 24-31. If you've done the math, which I know you all have, then you would know that Detroit's Magic Number to clinch the Wild Card is a very square 99.

The Yankees are DONE!

The return of Clemens is so intriguing.

What will he do?

Can he save the Yankees?

How much worse is pitching in the AL East than the NL Central?
Can he go 7 innings per start?

Does he like minorities?

You don't just add an ace to your staff like this, not without mortgaging your future That is why it is great to be a Yankee. The pinstripes might be a simple black and white but their true color is green.

Every Yankee loss brings them one game closer to the forbidden land us and takes all of us one step closer to Graceland.

But we are also with in a few days reach of their potential savior coming to rescue them. To take a team on his HOF pitching arm and write up yet another "magical story" that will make every person outside of Yankee land want to vomit.

This is reality TV at its finest.

Is this the end of an era or is another magical finish lying in the wings?

VCD,
Sip

(Pics courtesy of MVN.com and newsimg.bbc.co.uk)

When Worlds Collide

It was a tricky weekend.

Here's an analogy for you.

Imagine having an older brother. He's your best friend and confidant. He is as much a part of your life as anyone. Now imagine you're 25 years old and you find out your parents are gonna have another kid. A beautiful baby comes into the family and you immediately take to him. While your brother is off living his life, there is just a lot of time for you and the baby.

Now someone asks you. Who's your favorite brother? Who would you choose?

There is no correct decision. You may be a ton closer with the older bro which would make him the obvious answer. But you realize that the most important thing is that you don't want to see anyone lose. Somehow, some way, you just want both brothers to be happy.

This was my weekend as the New Diamondbacks came to town.

I received many a text and phone call from curious friends asking me where my heart was. Of course my heart is with the Mets.

But when I got an e-mail from my father, I knew that this may be something to really think about.

I've only been with the Diamondbacks for a short time but I have obviously taken to them. They are my employer. Their success is, to a certain extent, my success. It was a tough situation.

I responded to my father the only thing that made sense to me at the time.

"I just don't want to see the Dbacks get embarassed."

They were coming off a 7-game winning streak when they entered Shea including a dominating sweep of the Phillies. Their pitching staff 1-5 had been lights out and with Mark Reynolds now thumping in the middle of the lineup, the offense really had some decent balance to it.

I didn't want them to come to Shea and appear outclassed by the team that is widely regarded to be the NL's best team. I didn't want the momentum of this 7-game winning streak to be crushed by our little superpower in New York.

Turns out, the Diamonbacks played with the Mets.

Our boys were hurt. Not having David Wright and Carlos Beltran in a lineup is not having two starting all-stars. That's a lot to miss.

But the DBacks proved to be no fluke.

What I have seen out of them and the NL West for that matter is that these guys can all really pitch. When they can find ways to score runs, they can compete.

That's enough on the DBacks. I'm glad the series was 2-1. For me, that's as political as I can get it.

Then there was the Red Sox and Yankees.

We were so close to Joe Torre being fired. I really think that. But then Okajima slipped and A-Rod hit a huge dong.

Oh well.

24-30 is not too good. But I would be a lot more content if this team was 34-40.

One thing that's also just a little bit funny: a Roger Clemens injury before his first million dollar pitch.

VCD,
Sip

(Images courtesy of offsidz.com and wkp.fresheye.com)

My Response

(AFOMG spoke earlier. Sip speaks now.)

Yankee fans are morons. They are spoiled and they don't understand what it means to lose. They write themselves off after a few bad losses or if they fall behind a couple of games in the standings. They stop watching the games. They do everything that is wrong in baseball.

For basically the first 23 years of my life my team was a loser. We had a run in '99/'00 but then we were still second to the Braves. We won in 1986 but I was only 4. In 1988 my dad promised me the Mets would beat the Dodgers and they didn't. It was basically the only chink in his otherwise shiny armor.

Because of this losing, any sign of hope was a great feeling. The thought of making a run brought me to Shea 30 times a year even when the team really had no chance.

It was this hope that made me love baseball.

Since 2000, Yankee fans lost this hope. They didn't need it. They didn't crave the playoffs or a division title.

They became entitled. The Yankees were winners, for now and for always. Or so they thought.

When it was June and Yankee fans were 5 games back of the Orioles, Yankee fans found this completely unacceptable. These were the Yankees. The Yankees played in October. They had the money and the stars and the aura and the mystique. They couldn't take the losing and wrote their team off. Then, surprise, surprise, the Yankees won. And surprise, surprise, Yankee fans were back.

In 2007 Mets fans, for the first time, have felt this sense of entitlement. Our team is so good that we basically expect it to make the playoffs. If the Mets were to fall 5 games back of the Braves, Mets fans would be in shock.

In short: In 2007, Mets fans are in place that they haven't been in my lifetime. They expect their team to win. Yankee fans are in a place that they haven't been in about 10 years. Their team isn't winning.

And I'm not going to be as QUICK as the masses to accept these changes.

I don't accept the Mets as the NL East winner this year. It hasn't come that easy to me for 23 years of my life. I have no reason for it to be so easy now, even if it is.

Do I hope the Mets win it all? Of course. Would it be unacceptable to me if they didn't? No. I am not a Yankee fan.

At the same time, I will NEVER accept the Yankees as a loser (at least not in the standings). For the entire part of my true understanding of baseball, the Yankees have won. They have some of the most talent in the game (this isn't rocket science) and talent usually leads to wins.

Do I hope the Yankees lose? Of course.

But to say the Yankees season is over is to be a Yankee fan.

Baseball is not that easy. Anything can happen. As Mets fans, we believe in the impossible: Ya Gotta Believe. Right?

I can hope every day that this Yankee fall continues just like I can hope that the Mets winning will never end. But the day when I get greedy, when I take for granted what's going on and assume that the Yankees are done, is the day I become the fan that I have hated for a very long time.

And I will never be that person.

We all have our right to an opinion. Some of us can sing Sweet Caroline in the 8th inning. Some of us can think that Aaron Heilman should have been a starter. We can all disagree on a lot.

But one thing that we all are is Mets fans. Another thing we all are is Yankee haters. How we choose to act on these interests will vary amongst us.

I am cautious, paranoid and expect the worst. When it comes to baseball, I am usually a glass half-empty guy. That comes from many a John Franco/Armando Benitez outing during my teen years that have scarred me for life.

The rest of you might be more glass half-full types. I wish I had that optimism. My good pal Happy Will does. We're still cool.

That's all.

Vaya con dios,
Sip

(Pic courtesy of coffeepulse.com, amazon.com)

A Word on Content

There's been some grumbling on the comment board recently about the content here at Y2K. Patrick, Open Bar, a slew of Johnny Anonymouses, etc. are basically alleging that the Y2K boys have gone soft. Not enough Yankee bashing, too much on the Mets, that kind of thing.

We aim to please here at the site. We love our readers, even the ones who don't love us that much (unclesam, wouldn't be the same with you, pal -- but why don't you put a space between "uncle" and "sam"? What's with that?). The fact is that detractors keep us honest, and even if their arguments are sometimes inane, more often than not they give us something to think about, even if we disagree.

But a word on content: the content here at the site comes from the minds of the writers. Sometimes that means a Yankee-bashing piece, sometimes that means a Mets-loving piece, and yes, sometimes that means getting the latest update on Sip's random encounters with Eric Byrnes.

I tend to think we do a good job of mixing it all together (it's somewhat ironic that the piece that launched this whole discussion was a piece bashing the shit out of A-Rod), but believe me, we hear you out there who want more of the Yankee hate.

But look, these things have to happen organically. When you write a piece because it's what you're "supposed" to do rather than because it's what you're really interested in writing, the piece is going to be shit.

At that point it becomes work, and it's going to sound like work. Now I'm not saying that everything we write when our hearts are in it is gold, but I promise you it's better than if we wrote pieces of a certain type because we felt we had to.

For those of you who want the Yankee hate, be patient. We've got an exciting summer of Yankee hating ahead of us. I'm going to the Red Sox-Yankees game at Fenway on Saturday, and I'm sure I'll have a well of material after that one.

Speaking more generally, the Yanks are bad this year, and it's not just biased bloggers who are saying it anymore.

The Daily News interviewed a big league scout for an article today, and he's saying the same things we are. He called Abreu "a piece of garbage", says "I don't think they'll pull out of this... I don't think there are enough players on this club to do it." Articles like this put a huge smile on the Glass Man's face.

But on a given day, that smile may not be the thing I'm most excited about. Maybe it's another gem from El Duque. Maybe it's Carlos Delgado with a break-out game. Maybe it's an injury to Mike Hampton. Could be anything. And whatever it is, that's what you get. And that's the way it is.

As regards the Yankee ads that run on the site, we agree, that's a TON of salt. We can't control that though, Google assigns the ads to us due to word cues, and every day the word "Yankees" appears right on the mast head, so it leads to ads for "Derek Jeter's Driven", "Roger Clemens jerseys" and "Selling your soul".

The Official Band of Y2K Just Got Cooler

Our buddies over at The Strokes launched a new web site this past week. You're not a Strokes fan, you say? Why should I care, you ask?

Check out the "Talk" page on the webe site -- does that logo look familiar to you? It sure does to me -- a Mets logo with "The Strokes" etched on top.

And how about the "Live Chat" icon? A picture of A-Rod's face getting slammed in by Jason Varitek.

Talk about things that bring a smile to my face -- well done, boys, cheers.

Have a nice weekend everybody. Let's go Mets, and fuck the Yankees. I'm already on the hook (a big hook?) for saying they don't have a chance at winning the division this year, and another series loss against the Sox would go a long way toward proving me right.

Cheers, Patrick, no hard feelings.

- A.F.O.M.G.

(Images courtesy of movievillains.com and 100xr.com)