A New Curse

On May 29, the Mets were 33-16. They had won four in a row. The team was cruising.

The next day something happened, something that sent the team careening to a loss on May 30, and 58 losses total in the next 112 games. That day, Guillermo Mota returned to the Mets.

The Mets handed a fat 2-year contract to Mota even after proof emerged that he had taken performance enhancing drugs. The Mets were swayed by his open acceptance of guilt -- which, in fairness, was commendable -- and the solid results he'd put up in a Met uniform in late 2006.

The deal felt wrong from the beginning. Why was he given two years? Why were we rewarding a cheat? Weren't we at least concerned that somebody who was terrible for months, years even, suddenly became amazing and then shortly thereafter was caught using steroids? The questions were endless.

I said yesterday that I'd believe in anything. Right now I can't believe in logic, because logic tells me the Mets should be in the playoffs. And so I'll believe in curses.

Guillermo Mota cursed this team. They were a .660 club before he arrived, and .487 afterward.

If you believe like Lister does that there was some malevolent force out there conspiring against the Mets, do like the Mets did and put your money on Mota.

- A.F.O.M.G.

I'll Believe in Anything

Today was a good day. Today the Mets, one through twenty-five, played like warrior poets, and so did Mike Chico, and so did Chad Cordero.

And tomorrow we wake and it's all on us. Whether we're alive on Monday is back in our hands. Yes, we've got a lot riding on the result in Philly tomorrow, but right now the Mets just have to take care of number one.

161 games later and all that's left is 1:10 tomorrow, and Glavine and Dontrelle, and 55,000 Mets fans raised with one credo: Ya gotta believe.

I bottomed out last night, and when I woke this morning I was a shell of myself. But here we are and we're tied going into the final game of the season. It's not the way we'd have drawn it up on the morning of April 3, but it sure as hell is the way we would have drawn it up on the morning of September 29.

And I'm back. I'm back to thinking of Endy going over the wall. I'm back in that place where everything is possible. Ya gotta believe? Fuck it, I'll believe in anything right now.

I want this team to bring tears to my eyes and champagne to my stomach.

And after questioning their resolve for months, after today, I think they want that too.

- A.F.O.M.G.

The Way It Is

This game's not over yet, we're down 7-4 in the 7th as I write this. But that said, here's the point. You can't expect to win a meaningful ballgame when your players forget how many outs there are, or when your pitcher beans in two runners.

What I mean is, you can't piss games away. And that's what we've done.

And that's the way it is.

- A.F.O.M.G.

How To Lose a Division in Ten Days

The next time we see you guys, it may be a time of depression or a time of laughter. Yes, the Mets are on the brink of something bad. Something really bad. But all this worry may be for nothing.

Last night was about the most lifeless game I have ever watched. There wasn't a single moment where the Mets had a chance. But as I like to say many a time. Everything's not lost.

As a baseball fan, you can't ask for a more exciting weekend than the one that lies ahead. 7 teams in the National League fighting for 4 unclaimed spots.

As a Mets fan, we are in for the ultimate freak out. Those who think the season is over, that we don't have a chance, are simply wrong.

The season is now 3 games long. And it's actually good that the safety net that is the wildcard is no longer a certainty and more like a reach.

But this weekend its us against the Marlins. We no longer control our own destiny. We simply need to win.

But seriously, what a weekend.

See you guys on Monday. Hopefully we will all have something to smile about.

Vaya,
Sip

Yikes Part VII

Are they still playing Coldplay's "Clocks" at the end of every loss? A blogger's gotta find something good to make of all of this.

Right now every Mets fan in the country has their arms in the air. Disgust, disappointment, embarrassment, salt. You name a word. With the Mets on the brink of choking up their season in one of the bigger meltdowns in big league history, we can only ask who to blame.

The starting pitching has been ok. Glavine and Maine have been spotty, OP has been pretty damn good, sure, Duque has been hurt, but all in all, the starters haven't killed us.

The lineup has been good. Beltran has been great. Wright, sans double plays, has been great. Alou has been great. Delgado, has been shaky with a few flashes. Reyes, a bit of a let down has still been pretty damn good. These guys are putting up runs thats for sure.

But this team is just finding ways to lose. These are the Old Mets, the team that we grew up with. Maybe that's why this just isn't killing me like it is the rest of you. I am just too used to the Mets being losers. I haven't lived in New York for the winning days to fully grasp it. To me, I guess I just expect the worst.

Which leads to the two scapegoats: Willie and the Pen.



I've gotten more emails questioning Willie's decision making over the last week. I buy some of it but lets just say that all decisions are bad ones when your team loses. Willie needs to somehow find a way to keep his players fresh and up for these next four games. Otherwise, with almost 100% certainty, he will be the scapegoat and looking for a new job in '08.

But the real difference is the bullpen.

Think back to '06.

Sanchez-Heilman-Wagner in the back. Feliciano and Bradford when he we needed some help. Darren Oliver when we needed four innings.

For the first 5 months of the 2006 season the pen was nearly flawless and the Mets dominated. Games were won after the 6th inning. We didn't have weeks like this where we didn't trust a single pitcher in our pen. Somehow someway, the job always seemed to get tone. This season, and especially lately, it seems like the exact opposite.

But then think back to the 2006 postseason. A couple of things strike a chord. Beltran's bat on his shoulder to make the last out of game 7 is the obvious choice. But how how bout the combo of Mota and Wagner blowing Game 2 in the NLCS. We go into St. Louis up 2-0 and its a different series.



For the most part we take the bullpen for granted. They are the lowest paid players on the team. They are not all-stars (middle-men) and for the most part, outside of your own team, they aren't even household names.

Name me 5 setup men in the NL West? Most of you can't. Those who can, well, they blog .

Baseball is such a funny game in that sense. It's kind of the equivalent of the NBA finals being determined by the 7th and 8th players on a team. But in baseball, it can make or break a season.

As terrible as this month has been, the Mets are still in the playoffs. At least for now. We control our own destiny in a league where very few teams can say the same. And further, if the Mets make the playoffs, it is 100% a fresh start.

You saw it with the '06 Cardinals. But I'm sure you've seen it with yourself. I think back to my sophomore year in high school when I batted about .092 as a 5'3 sophomore playing on the varsity. With every at bat I watched my batting average drop and I got more and more depressed. By the end of the season, I was happy putting the ball in play. The next season came around and I had a fresh start. I'm not ready to call myself the Tony Gwynn of New York City baseball but I did hit a heck of a lot better.

That is baseball for you. It is a total mind game. These guys might be professionals but they still remember yesterday just like anyone else.

Come the playoffs, you have a chance to make everything right. Jeff Weaver was about 3-39 last year. He became a postseason hero. Jeff Suppan turned a decent year and an awesome 3 weeks in October into $40 million.

All this team needs to do is get to October. Right now, it looks really grim. But this is the easiest of the professional sports to bounce back in. The Mets could come out and win their next four. They might not. Right now we need to find a way to get there, and everything will be ok.

If not, we complain.

Vaya,
Sip

Oh, and in case you wanted a little more salt in the wound, congrats to those pesky Bombers. The team that three months ago was more done, dead, out of it, then our Mets clinched a 13th straight to October baseball. Take that for what you will.



(Pics courtesy of USAtoday.com, CNN.net)

Worst Post Ever

The only thing worse than tonight's game is the fact that I just got home from work, and couldn't write anything coherent if my life depended on it. Kind of like how Carlos Delgado couldn't get a big hit if his life depended on it.

See? That was awful. Not as awful as Tom Glavine giving up a home run to something called a Jason Maxwell (didn't he play hoops for the University of Cincinnati?), but pretty bad. Say goodnight, Cheddar.

Anyway, take away these four redeeming things from the evening:

1) The Phillies lost

2) The Phillies lost

3) The Phillies lost

4) Jose hit two homers

Snapped out of it yet, fella? If this hellish last stretch of games serves to rekindle Reyes' drive, or motor, or whatever it is that's been lacking for the past three weeks, then it all might be worth it. Assuming the Phillies keep on losing, that is.

Got nothing. Get you all back next time.

Happy Tuesday

Anyway we can trade Guillermo Mota For Ronnie "Pat Burrell JR" Belliard.



It's amazing how easy it is to be down on this team. They have no real consistent pitching both in the rotation and in the pen. The lineup is down from last year. And our manager has gone from hero to goat in 12 months.

But it's all good.

This team remains the best team in the National League. They can and should beat every team in the playoffs. It now becomes a question of if they will. The Mets look about as bad over the last month as the '06 Cardinals did a year ago. Which is why the playoffs will be ever more exciting in 2007. Assuming we dont blow a 2 game lead with 6 games to go.



If the Mets blow this lead, it would be no one's fault but their own. We would remember this season as a major disappointment as we would remember these last 6 weeks of the season as some of the most depressing baseball we have seen in our lifetimes.

But assuming they are playing in October, it should be great. The team and its fanbase would not be overconfident. Many will figure out a way to call us underdog.

I watched the disappointment that was last Thursday with my father and yet again, he made a pretty awesome observation. He said something along the lines of, "there is nothing better than meaningful baseball. There is so much time between each pitch to speculate or get nervous or excited. Every pitch matters."

And its true. We are on the brink of the greatest sports theater that there is. And you can even argue that this week is the first real round of the playoffs. Lose and we are out.

Any reason to get even more excited about baseball is good enough for me.

Vaya,
Sip

(Pics courtesy of thefeed.com, geekswithblogs.com)

Our Bullpen Sucks, Yes It Do

The pitcher was dejected. He'd worked so hard, performed so well. It didn't seem fair, it didn't make sense; hadn't he done everything the organization asked him? Hadn't he built up his arm strength? Hadn't he performed effectively in Spring Training? What did Brian Bannister have on him, anyway?

The answers to the questions swirling inside Aaron Heilman's mind may never have come, but that day in late March 2006, there was some solace. The new closer strode over and put his hand on Heilman's shoulder.

"Welcome to the best bullpen in the National League," Billy Wagner told him.

I'm not sure one way or another whether the statistics bear it out, but I'm fairly certain the Mets had one of the best, if not the very best, bullpen's in baseball. Heilman-Sanchez-Wagner with a dash of Feliciano and Bradford and a pinch of Darren Oliver made last year's relief corps as sound as any we'd seen since the Turk-Cookie-Benitez dynamo days of the late 1990s.

But then came the offseason. Guillermo Mota was revealed to be a juicer, Duaner dithered in his rehab, Bradford signed with Baltimore, Scott Schowenweis was given the keys to the kingdom, and somehow all hell broke loose.

Wagner was automatic the first 4 months of the season, but has struggled down the stretch. Ditto Feliciano. Heilman has been kind of erratic all season, and Schowenweis is basically an affront to anyone cheering for this team.

The best bullpen in baseball it ain't. At times you wonder if it might be the worst.

None of it bodes well for October. The Mets have scored 7-plus runs in their last seven games now, but are only 4-3 in those games, owing to shoddy pitching, primarily out of the pen.

The good news for now is that today's win, coupled with Philly's loss, basically assures the Mets of making the postseason provided they don't completely shit the bed.

We're up 3 games in the loss column with 7 games left, 6 left for Philly. That means Philly needs us to lose at least 3 of our remaining 7 games just to have a chance. Could happen. At the same time though, Philly would need to go 6-0. The way they've been playing lately, I could totally see that happening. It wouldn't be easy though, and I don't think it can be expected.

What I mean to say is, whereas a few days ago I was basically convinced I was staring at an October full of watching SNY's "Street Games", by this point I'm comfortable again.

All will be revealed in a week's time.

Remember last year when some people complained that it wouldn't feel like we'd really earned the division title because we were basically unchallenged all season? Well, here we go. Let's earn it.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Come to Papa

Come on ... use him. The man was made to pitch. He brings the fire. What, are you going to let yourself be knocked out of the playoffs over something as ridiculous as a set of Rules?

A couple three-inning outings in a row never hurt nobody. Come on, Joe. Stop babying the boy. Let him loose. Let him show the world what he's got. Somebody's gotta get Vlad Guerrero out. Somebody needs to get Chone Figgins to pop up. Somebody has to fan Garret Anderson. Who better than your stud, every single step of the way?

Sore arm, schmore arm. If God didn't want us to employ our elbows in the service of a baseball game, why did he give them to us? Riddle me that old man. Have a look at the roster if you don't believe me. I'll tell you what -- it doesn't say "Joba Chamberlain: Not-Pitcher," does it? I rest my case. What harm could a bunch of three-inning outings do, anyway?

Use the boy, man. Use him as much as you feel you need to. What are you, Joe ... chicken?

Tell 'Em, Dwayne

A.F.O.M.G. aside, why are we here at Y2K so laid back about the Mets' collapse over the past week? Why are we cracking jokes, loose as barnyard geese, knocking around takes on the Sawks and Yanks while dorky commenters exhort us to care more about the Amazins? Why?

It's like the star of the upcoming smash hit film "The Game Plan," the Rock, says -- it doesn't matter.

(Anyone else remember that song? Wyclef Jean, featuring the Rock, "It doesn't matter how many Bentleys you have," etc? Off of 2000's brutal "The Ecleftic: 2 Sides II a Book," possibly the most disappointing album of the past 10 years? Coming off consecutive winners in "The Score" and "The Carnival," two of the best listen-through albums out there, each packed with great songs, tight Lauryn Hill verses and all that, Wyclef went and laid an egg the size of a Sherman tank. My Lord, what a disaster. In any case.)

Now, this may seem too obvious for words, but would we prefer that the Mets win these late-season games? Yes. Yes, we would. Beyond that, is it a disaster for the Mets to have lost all of these games? Not even close. We're going to be a bunch of Fonzies here. And what's Fonzie like? He's cool.

Why? Because it doesn't matter. Peep this.

1) The Mets are still in first place

By more than a game, mind you, with series against only the sub-.500 Marlins and Nationals left to play. The Phillies still have to play the Braves, who are considerably meaner than either, right? I mean, wake me when we're tied. Pre-panicking helps nobody.

Moreover ...

2) The Mets are basically a cinch to make the playoffs

The figure was 94.5 percent according to Baseball Prospectus' Playoff Odds Report as of Thursday -- not the mortal lock you'd like, but the best odds of anyone in the NL. Which you have to take in this situation. All the NL West teams still have tough schedules -- both the Pads and D-Backs have to play the new Rox, playing out of their minds for that Wild Card berth, and the Pads have the Brewers -- in a race of their own -- as well. Baseball's a funny game, but if you had to say the scheduling situation favors anyone, it's the Mets.

And let's please not go worrying about Division Titles. Are the Nationals fucking annoying at the moment? Sure, but as George Vescey put it in the Times today, "Knocking off a front-runner was a more exquisite torture before the bailout device of the wild card came around in 1995." Big time. Read the whole thing. I'd be a lot more concerned with Wily Mo if his antics actually meant anything.

Would the bubbly be a bonus? No doubt. Like the Continental, David Wright wants to share his champagne with us, and I'd like to taste it. But it's the stupid trophy with the cheap-looking little flags we're really worried about, and getting to the playoffs is what matters. Because, of course ...

3) There's no stigma about getting to the playoffs via the Wild Card

I think everyone knows this on an intellectual level. But, again, in the heat of the moment and as the thrill of competition takes over, we all tend to forget the facts. Here, then, as a brief reminder, is a list of teams who've won postseason series as the Wild Card.

The 2006 Detroit Tigers
The 2005 Houston Astros
The 2004 Houston Astros
The 2004 Boston Red Sox
The 2003 Boston Red Sox
The 2003 Florida Marlins
The 2002 Anaheim Angels
The 2002 San Francisco Giants

Res ipsa, baby. Just get to the playoffs, and let the crapshoot begin. The Mets specifically don't have to worry about bearing the weight of the Wild Card because ...

4) The Mets play better on the road anyway

Outside of Queens, say hello to Carlos Beltran and his .585 slugging percentage. Say hello to Carlos Delgado's .292 -- .292!!! -- batting average, and an overall line that looks exactly like his career numbers. Moises Alou is cranking along at a .390/.460/.598 pace on the road, which is pretty decent.

The Metsies tend to gain about 20 points of average, 20 point of slugging, and around 15 on-base points when away from Shea. They're 44-33 on the road this year against 40-34 at home, which doesn't seem like much until you consider it's the best away winning percentage in baseball. Again, I'm not sure I'd be behind this 100 percent, but you can easily make the case that the Mets would be better served by going on the road. It's at least plausible.

With how they've been playing as of late, limping along like a goddamn train wreck, we might find out. But again, as bad as we've looked, I can't be too concerned. Why?

5) It doesn't matter how you finish the season

Now, the 2006 St. Louis Cardinals may come to mind here, as well they ought. Tony LaRussa's team of jackasses staggered across the 162-game finish line at 83-78 having been 16 games over .500 on July 26. They lost seven in a row from Sept. 20 to 27, letting a 7-game lead turn into a half-game advantage before rallying to take three of their last five.

That turned out rather well for them, wouldn't you say?

But, of course, their World Series opponents were no different -- the Tiggers turned a 10-game lead into the AL Central into a WC berth by losing their last five games, including a sweep at the hands of the Royals.

Now, the 2005 ChiSox and 2003 Marlins are certainly good examples of teams riding hot streaks all the way to World Championships, but the point is that either scenario -- winners keep on winnin,' or cool squad heats up -- is perfectly reasonable. All things being equal, I'd prefer that the Mets go into the playoffs on a roll, but it's simply not necessary.

Especially if the struggles are of the mysterious (rather than injury-related) variety. Do the Mets have Moises, Endy, and Petey back? Yep. Are El Duque and Delgado going to be ready to go? They are. Is Blastings ready to blast off? In a big way. What, me worry?

Let the Nats have their fun. Let the Phillies play every game until the last day of the season as if it were the Battle of Midway. Let the media go nuts.

Me, I'm going to smell what my main man Dwayne is cooking. It doesn't matter.

Truly, Unspeakably Pathetic

What more is there to say?

Simmer

Let's everyone take a long deep breath...

You good?

With 1st and 3rd and no outs, in last night's ballgame, up 5-3, Willie turned to Jorge Sosa. Over the last two weeks, it seems like everything has gone wrong in these sort of situations. To get out of such an inning giving up only a run would be positive. These were the type of innings where games were blown.

Which is why we owe a lot to Jorge Sosa. A strike out and a phantom double play and the Mets newest collapse was no longer. I don't want to say that Jorge Sosa saved our season, but he certainly saved this game. A very big game in that.



Yadier took care of us. He owed us one. His RBI single in the bottom of the 10 put the Mets up 3 in the loss column over the Fightins with 11 to go. Not too bad.

I may be the only person in this community that has actually enjoyed these last two weeks. My friends say its cause I'm not a good Mets fan. That may be the case. But for me, this is the first time I have sweat in the regular season in 7 years. I found myself glued to the scoreboard hoping that the Cards would take their game against the Phils. I'm talking glued. I can't remember the last time that happened.

These losses are good for both the Mets and their and their fanbase, a fanbase that has changed in only 18 months from lovable losers to people who expect nothing but a win. Think back to 2006. When we lost game 7 to the Cards no one knew how to take it. No one expected it and no one thought it was possible.

You get too loose when things are just handed to you and we are Mets fans. That's not us. I'm loving this sweat. I'm loving knowing that we're fighting for a postseason birth. And I am really loving baseball right now.

And I'm even hoping the Yankees pass the Sox. Both teams are going to make the playoffs anyway and for me the comedy value of the Red Sox choking is just too great. Boston fans were even quicker to change their ways than Mets fans. They went from being "America's Losers" to "America's Winners" which of course they are not. I still will always root for the over the Yanks but in this case, I'm willing to let that go.

That's my piece.

Vaya,
Sip

(Pic courtesy of Nypost.com)

What's French for "12th Straight Division Title?"

Oh my god, Tito. OH MY GOD.

Oh my god. Oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god.

Must-win game for the Sox. MUST-WIN. Gotta have it. The Bombers have closed to within 3.5 games in the division, the closest it's been since Christmas, and they're hosting the creampuff Orioles. You're in Canada, and you need to get a W.

Jon Lester, the comeback kid, gives you his third quality start of the month, outpitching A.J. Burnett, and you've got a 2-1 lead going into the bottom of the eighth. And then what do you do?

You yank Manny Delcarmen, who'd thrown all of three pitches on the evening, to put in Eric Gagne.

That's the formerly steroid-swilling Eric-with-a-C, rec specs by Michael Kors, hair by whatever pillow he woke up on that morning, relief pitcher in name only, Gagne as in Simon. The man who hasn't protected a meaningful lead since Aug. 8; the dude who blew up later that month, was booed at Fenway in a manner only J.D. Drew and Derek Jeter can relate to, was out hurt through Sept. 11. The big shot who gave up a run to the D-Rays in his return, but tossed a couple of scoreless innings in a pair of losses to the Yankees.

So, clearly everything is fine.

I do mind yanking Delcarmen last night, but not nearly as much as I mind what followed. After getting a pair of hard-earned outs, the French-Canadian slob in question walked Frank Thomas. No biggie there -- Thomas has the best eye in baseball, and anything he touches might well end up an extra-base hit. Fine. Then he gives up a single to Aaron Hill, and walks Fat Matt Stairs.

Okay. Now, we're in the type of situation where you might consider making a change. You could see Papelbon enter here. You could see Hideki Okajima come in. You could make a case that Dennis Eckersley in the NESN studio is a better option than Gagne in this situation. I'm making that argument as we speak.

In any case, Gagne walks in the tying run, handing out a free pass to Gregg Zaun and tying the score at 2-2. Fuck. Well, you think to yourself, it could've been worse -- at least someone else will have a chance to get out of it.

But no. But no. Oh my god.

Tito leaves Gagne in to face pinch-hitter Russ Adams, who ends Hector Luna's evening. Adams quite predictably doubles home two runs with a bomb to center field, and even a homer from Julio Lugo off Burnett in the top half of the ninth isn't enough to rally your boys from behind. Let's hope Lugo didn't take that out on anyone later that night.

(Nice tie in that photo, by the way.)

And now the divisional lead is at 2.5 games, and there's nobody to blame but yourself. Sweet mercy, that's awful. No points to Toronto manager John Gibbons, mind you, for letting the injury-laden Burnett throw 124 pitches into the ninth inning of a completely meaningless game, but still. That's two thus far, Shooter.

Now you're relying on no-hit hero Clay Buchholz, making his third major league start, to stop the bleeding tonight while Andy Pettitte goes head-to-head with the legendary Brian Burres in the Bronx; you're praying for Doc Halladay and the Jays to give their all in the weekend series against New York; you've got no room to work with against the Rays in Tampa.

Still, there are more embarrassing things than being swept by the Blue Jays. (See also: "How to Make Wily Mo Pena and Ronnie Belliard Look Good in 25 Easy Steps"). I need to disappear for a while.

Everything's Not Lost: Part XXXIV

Good teams find ways to lose. Lesser teams find ways to win. If you're the better team you don't need to find ways to win because you're better. The weaker team needs to find ways to win because they are worse.

One of my buddies was complaining to me that the Mets "just don't have it." That they don't have the "will" or the "fight" or the "heart" that the Mets had back in 1999. I'm just not buying it. This is baseball, not wrestling or tug of war. Baseball is not about trying hard. It's about talent. The best teams win in baseball. You can't be out coached like in football and you can't not try which is why the NBA regular season is unwatchable.

The 8 teams that make the playoffs in baseball every year are usually the 8 best and healthiest.

So the Mets should get there. They will get there, barring what would be a major choke, in which case 2007 will be remembered 25 years for the wrong reasons.

What is happening now doesn't really have much to do with what will happen come October. Brian Lawrence will not be wearing a Mets uniform in two weeks and hopefully Carlos Delgado will. The bullpen is now cold. Maybe soon, it will get hot.



And the Mets will enter October as the best team in the NL.

So we gotta just take these last couple of days as shitty days and nothing more. Our football seasons appear to be over, the Yankees look like a lock for October and Sip's stomach is feeling even worse thanks to some unfriendly grub over at Chase Field.

But I have to say, I can take some solace in the recent Mets losing ways. It makes these next two weeks of the regular season really interesting. I am all of a sudden watching the Phillies very closely, not because I don't want to see them in October but more so because I am curious to see if they'll get there at all.

Will the Mets see Peavy and Chris Young three times in the NLDS or will it be a Mets/ Dbacks showdwon that I should have guaranteed before the season, considering the course of my life.

We are not yet at freak out mode with the Mets. But maybe its a decent time to sweat.

But to expect the playoffs to be handed to us is to be Yankee fans. We're Mets fans, lets remember that.

Our team will be a loser until we win the last game of the season. And when that day comes, all of our lives will change. That's the beauty of sports.

Vaya,
Sip

Champagne Will Have to Wait

A year ago tomorrow was a special day for us around here. September 18, 2006, the day a generation of Mets fans, including many born in the early 1980s, watched the Mets win a division championship for the first time in 18 years.

I remember watching it from my living room, a bottle of Korbel champagne proudly displayed on my living room, begging to be popped. We had a team that had looked invincible all season; we'd "run roughshod over the National League". We'd earned it.

Zoom forward to the present and times aren't quite as heady. We wake today with our team losers of 8 straight to our closest divisional foe. Every year there's a team that seems to bedevil the Mets. Normally it's the Braves. This year, evidently, it's the Phillies.

What's so frustrating about it is that we were in position to win in each of these 8 losses. On some level that's consolation; yeah we lost, but it took that cheap dribbler to do it, or that misplay by Beltran, or that blown save by Wagner.

On another level that's no consolation at all. We've worried about our bullpen all season, and more often than not they're the ones losing these games for us.

We've sensed somehow that this team might lack that killer instinct that last year's team had. If we'd won one of these games the division race would have been over, essentially. We'd have been up 5.5 with 14 to play. Instead it's 3.5.

Do I think we'll win the division? Yes. Are we a lock to do so? Nope, not anymore.

The trick now is to do exactly what we did the last time we suffered a sweep by the Phils. We didn't lick our wounds that time, we went out there and took it to the Braves. This time we draw the Nationals.

From here on out the schedule is very much in our favor. Six with the Nats, seven with the Marlins, one with the Cardinals. If we don't close it out, we've got no one to blame but ourselves.

But still. But still. Just a different kinda season, this one.

But hell, maybe that's not such a bad thing. I remember holding back tears and drinking champagne September 18, 2006, but I don't remember any tickertape parades last October.

I also don't remember any Pedro.

This weekend was frustrating. Everything with the Phillies has been frustrating lately. But at the end of the day, we're still where we want to be.

We may not sip champagne on September 18 this year, but that's no matter.

Besides, no one wanted to clinch on the road anyway.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Sirhan Sirhan to the White Courtesy Phone, Sirhan Sirhan

Aaron Hill went down like he was swinging a sack of potatoes, belatedly waving at a plunging changeup. Lyle Overbay took big cuts at two changes in a row, retired on a second pitch that dove furiously at the dirt on the outside corner of the plate. Gregg Zaun took a strike, saw another coming, and then hung his head after dinking a weak grounder right at Wilson Betemit.

John McDonald and Reed Johnson looked no better an inning later, the former fooled badly on another nasty change. The latter swung over an 80 mph curveball placed perfectly on the outside lip of the plate, and Alex Rios didn't get nearly enough of a fastball, flying out to end the inning after Russ Adams walked.

In the seventh, the Big Hurt and his big friend, Matt Stairs, each popped out early in the count to bring up Hill again. Seeing the fastball far better this time around, he pulled a couple of pitches sharply foul, including a sure double off the wall, before drawing a walk. To do so, though, Hill had to stand and watch on 2-2 and 3-2 counts as a pair of fastballs missed narrowly high and inside, respectively. Overbay then lined out to the AL MVP to end the threat.

To that point, Yankees starting pitcher Ian Kennedy had thrown 88 pitches and allowed a single run, on a two-out Thomas double in the first inning that the Melk man should have made a play on. He'd allowed only that one hit. He'd struck out seven Blue Jays, and scared me shitless in the process.

Truth is, he's the hottest Kennedy since John-John and his muffin ass were bouncing around the Brown campus in those short shorts. Hey-yo!

The last thing we need the Yankees to turn up is another young, cheap, effective starter. In Kennedy, unfortunately, Brian Cashman may have just that. With a fastball that barely scrapes 90 and more starts in the Florida State League than MLB, he's an object of pure panic for me. He's got two wins in three late-season starts since being called up to replace the smoldering remains of Mike Mussina, and has looked impressive enough to compete for a rotation spot next spring.

This is not good. Phil Hughes and Chien-Ming Wang are locks for 2008 starting roles, and given the general level of dick-sucking we've seen from the media thus far, it's unthinkable that Dances With Beef Jerky and his four-pitch repertoire won't be given a shot at a slot in the rotation. Add in Pettitte or Mussina, and you've got a paid-for, cheap, and high-ceiling rotation that should improve considerably for the next, I don't know, five years.

I mean, fuck. I suppose we've been spoiled to some extent by the Yanks' profligate spending over the past five years, able to gloat as their hideous and obvious overspending mistakes played themselves out. We called Carl Pavano "The Money Pit"; we mocked the Rocket's per-start quota, rising as we speak. We laughed at the Big Unit's balky back, a condition no doubt aggravated by the wad of George Steinbrenner's money weighing down his trousers, and we indiscriminately cackled at the thought of Jaret Wright. Javy Vazquez, Kevin Brown ... lucky flukes like Shawn Chacon and Aaron Small aside, the Yanks' rotation has been the gift that keeps on giving.

Now, there was a chicken/egg problem here in that the Yanks were forced to pay for all these stiffs and clowns because they had no homegrown talent of their own, and most of their homegrown talent had, in fact, been affirmatively traded away to hire said stiffs. Without going back into whether or not that policy made sense, Cashman made a big deal several years back about changing tactics, and sure enough, he's stuck to his guns over the past few offseasons and trade deadlines, refusing to deal his studs and in fact picking up top prospects for guys like Gary Sheffield. Instead of ignoring the draft or wasting picks on glamour boys like Drew Henson, the Yanks starting using their money to pay for above-slot talent in the draft. Then, they hung onto it.

This is where Kennedy, taken 21st overall in the '06 draft, comes in. I was really hoping the Yanks had guessed wrong on him, and there were plenty of reasons to think they had. Kennedy was one of the hottest college prospects in the country after his sophomore year at USC, when he was a First Team All-American, went 12-2 with a 2.54 ERA (117 IP, 1.02 WHIP, 158 K, fourth on the Trojans' single-season list behind a couple of Mark Prior's all-time great seasons); then, he more or less tanked his junior year, going 5-7 with a 3.90 ERA and far less impressive peripherals.

Given his repertoire and build (6-foot righty with no heat), he didn't project especially well into the bigs. He looked pretty good, but no more, in two summers with the USA National Team, and there was every chance that his sophomore year had been somewhat fluky. And after signing with Scott Boras, there was a 100 percent chance that someone was going to overpay for the chance to find out whether his stuff would a) return and b) translate against MLB hitters. I was actually really happy when he fell to the Yanks, thinking they had just thrown a ton of money at the next Tim Stauffer.

Well, the early indications on his stuff are highly positive. His professional control has been exceptional, for one thing. But more importantly, his changeup has looked just outstanding -- it hovers right around 79 mph, giving him a solid differential from his fastball, and it moves like the dickens. Thursday night alone, he moved it in all three directions, with bite on some of these tosses that looked almost Pedro-like. It's clearly a big-league out pitch.

Now, the problem isn't that he's going to turn into the next Mussina, although that might be his ceiling, and the problem isn't necessarily that a rotation of Hughes-Wang-Chamberlain-Kennedy-Pettitte is unbeatable, although it's pretty dangerous. It's that the Yankees already have enough advantages; every addition option they have can only cause trouble.

When the Bombers have prospects, they can deal them to suckers. If Phil Hughes is untouchable, fine -- does a package of Kennedy, the Melk Man, Jose Tabata and $5 million pry Johan Santana away from Minnesota? Why not?

When the Bombers don't have to spend money on Pavano, they can spend it on position players. $15 million they don't blow on free agent pitchers is $15 million they toss on Andruw Jones.

When the Bombers don't have to spend money on Clemens, they can put it into the $45 million package they're going to need to give A-Rod if they want him to stay.

All of which is to say that Ian Kennedy's emergence is a thoroughly unattractive development, and should be regarded as highly pernicious. Most teams are going to land a fat Nebraskan freak every once in a while, but every first-round draft pick the Yanks connect with is another blow to freedom.

Torre blew it Thursday, taking Kennedy from the game (to a nice ovation from the Canuck crowd) after he walked Zaun to start the eighth. Vizcaino got out of it, but since using Mo in a tie game on the road is apparently verboten, the entrance of Vizcaino meant the ninth would belong to Chris Britton (?), and the Big Hurt knocked in the winning run before an out had been recorded. Solid work from Joe.

And Kennedy aside, we should be good for a while with the Yanks' first-round picks for a while. Hey-yo!

The Tomahawk Flop

Lets not worry about the Mets bullpen. The Cardinals had arguably the worst pen in the game going into last postseason only to shut down opponents in October.

I'm starting to think that the postseason is a lot like the World Series of Poker, while the regular season is like playing 100 WSOP's. Anyone can win in the postseason, it's a total crapshoot that requires luck and timelieness where skill can only take you so far. But in the regular season, the best team, over time will prevail.

Which makes it so awesome what is going down in Atlanta. Think back to the July 31st trade deadline. The Braves were the talk of baseball. They acquired two of the three big names available, Mark Teixiera and Octavio Dotel. They strengthened their pen and made a strong lineup scary.

These were still the mighty Braves and Mets fans were wondering if last year was just a fluke.

But here we are about 6 weeks later. I sometimes feel that our hatred for the Braves is sometimes lost in this website of Mets adoration and Yankee bashing.

See most Mets fans hate the Yankees. But ALL Mets fans hate the Braves.



It's like hating the school bully who always won at dodgeball and always got the girl. For more than half of my lifetime the Braves owned us. We'd get so pumped up for a series that they scoffed at. And we would lose.

But look at them now. 9.5 games out of the division and 4 games out of the Wild Card, with 4 teams that they have to jump ahead of. This team has lost its panache, its dominance.

Two years ago when John Smoltz or Tim Hudson was on the mound, I didn't think the Mets had a shot. This year, the Braves are 3-5 in Smoltz/Hudson starts.

I'll be the first to admit it. I love Chipper Jones. I love to hate him and I love that he had the sack to name his kid Shea. In my mind, he is the ultimate villain.

But I hate Andruw Jones. I just hate him. I hate the way he cautches flyouts and I hate the way he trots around the bases. Which is why I couldn't be happier the guy is hitting .220 in a contract year. He pissed away no less than $50 million dollars this season, maybe more.

Who would have thought the day would ever come when Mike Cameron would have more demand on the market than Andruw Jones.

So take a minute Y2k'ers to forget your love for the Mets or hate for the Bombers and lets all unite in a collective laugh at the Braves expense.

I have no doubt now that they will run off 15 in a row and go on to win the World Series, seeing as this is my first Anti-Braves piece in two years. I guess I'll have to take my chances.

Vaya,
Sip

C-O-L-L-A-Z-O

Is anybody else disappointed that Willie Collazo turned out to be Puerto Rican? Not because I think the Mets are too Hispanic or anything; that would be retarded. I just was hoping that there was another random Italian dude from New York who'd been called up for Paulie to be friends with. That would've been pretty exceptional.

New Willie gave up 3 runs in a pair of innings during last night's shelling by Atlanta, five fewer than ageless Orlando conceded in only an inning more. It was a late night at work for Cheddar Ben, and I got home just as Frenchy was doubling home two Braves to make the score 12-4. The roommates started giving me a hard time from the couch, warning me that I didn't want to walk into the room, I should stay away from the T.V., etc. Very clever stuff.

And my retort was fairly simple. We knew, after all, who would be in first place at the end of the night. It wasn't going to be Atlanta.

With Philly losing to the New Rox, the Metsies remained six games up in the NL East going into the action of Sept. 12. That's enough of a cushion to ensure that the day-to-day results of the next few weeks matter less than setting up the roster and the rotation for the postseason. Which is good, because about a zillion things need working out before the playoffs can start.

Off the top of my head, the list looks like this.

1) Figuring out who starts

This is going to suck. You've got five rather qualified candidates for four slots, and no obvious candidates to go to the bullpen. How each of these guys starts over the next two weeks will obviously go a long way toward determining who slots in where during the opening round. It's an obvious point, I know, but I'm not sure how Old Willie will juggle the ongoing de facto competition for the non-Glavine starting roles and the team's desire to take it easy on the guys and keep their arms fresh for the stretch run.

That makes, to my mind, the first couple of innings of each game far more important than their latter stages. If the Maine Event has a bad couple of early frames, does he get the same chance to come back with a quality outing he would have earlier in the year? Does Willie hold that against him when it comes decision-makin' time? I would think so. Same thing with Ollie and El Duque, and the principle surely holds for Pedro, who won't be kept in for long at all if he starts struggling.

So, I guess the lesson here is to not get out of work late. Fuck.

2) The outfield rotation

Who comes in for defensive purposes, and where, and when, and who plays against righties, and how does Carlos Delgado's injury factor into who makes the postseason roster? (Nice sentence there.) As much as I'd like to see me some Carlos Gomez in October, the fact remains that Shawn Green is a hedge against Delgado getting hurt, and has to be kept around.

Then there's the need to get Endy some ABs to fix him up and spry. You'd like to see Beltran get a rest, the better to ensure his availability. Blastings, you keep sending to the plate.

In any case, we'll get to see some interesting looks and lineups over the next couple of games as this all gets sorted out.

3) Straightening out the pen

Billy the Kid and Heilman seemed to have returned from their late-summer jaunt to the Cape of Good Lord, which I hear is the Fire Island for redneck relief pitchers. Wagner looked just fine sealing up a one-run lead against the heart of the Atlanta lineup Monday night, Beltran's sensational, SportsCenter Top Play game-ending catch notwithstanding, and Heilman was even better. Sosa and Feliciano are locks, which leaves either two or three slots available from the ranks of Mota/Smith/Schoenweis/Sele/Pelfrey/Humber. Sorry, New Willie.

Again, we'll let them get some work in before we start drawing any conclusions. Any plan that has Schoenweis set up against a tree and shot would be just fine with me, but again, I'll defer to the men in charge on that.

What I want to see while I wait is some hardcore September callup relief action. When you're six games up with under 20 to play ... it's Collazo Time!

P.S. Note to Mets staff -- that doesn't mean you're allowed to treat the guy like crap. Get the name right.

Sip's World Tour and the New Mets Secret Weapon

Sip's world tour made a stop in heaven this past weekend, aka, Norman, Oklahoma.

Nice people, the most beautiful girls I've ever seen, and an entire town of people that bleeds Sooner red. As a die hard sports fan I can comfortably say that there is no better environment in sports than a big time college football game in the South. 90,000 people in school colors, with the well being of an entire state on the shoulders of 100 18-22 year olds. When the Mets lost last year a few million New Yorkers were devastated while many more couldn't care less. When Oklahoma blew out Miami on Saturday afternoon, the entire state was buzzing. Short, tall, skinny, fat, man, woman. Everyone cared. It was really pretty awesome.



It was also pretty sweet in that it was the first time that me and my 3 best friends from summer camp had been in the same room together in ten years, one of the big four is Jeff Capel's guy for the basketball program, which was also pretty sweet. One name to watch out for: Blake Griffin.

But enough of that. The description above is meant solely to help our millions of readers understand my current mood- a good one.

With this happiness we've seen the Mets play their best baseball of the season and Eli Manning play his best game as a Giant. Sip's a pretty happy guy.

Before we go happy with the Mets let me get in a few quick lines on the Giants. Can't say enough about the offense. With a healthy Amani Toomer and what looks like a decent #3 WR in Steve Smith, the offense looked as good as it ever has. Funny that Tiki Barber, who really needs to just shut his mouth, was watching from the sidelines. It's pretty sad that his legacy has gone from Giant great, to the football player that wants to be on The View.




Unfortunately for the Giants, the D has about 3 NFL worthy starters (Strahan, Osi and Pierce) and 8 below average defenders. With the injuries to Eli and Jacobs we could be looking at a very very bad season. Oh well.

The Mets will be playing for at least half of it and a lot of that is the result of one somewhat unheralded player: Moises Alou

The Mets are 39-25 in games where Alou starts this season and 43-36 in games that he doesn't. They are 25-16 since his return to the lineup in late July.

Alou is the balancing act. He evens out the lineup. He was the right handed bat that the Mets craved last season, the team's one real vulnerability. Since his return on July 27th David Wright's batting average has jumped 24 points. Of course a lot of this can be attributed to putting him in the 3 spot and a lot can be attributed to the randomness in baseball. But maybe just maybe this has something to do with having an extra right handed thumper in the lineup that prevented pitchers from pitching around the Mets one right-handed threat.



The Mets are actually a really good team right now.

With the return of Pedro they are throwing out a very good pitcher every single night. With Wright and Beltran crushing the ball the lineup is again truly imposing and the bullpen of late has looked pretty decent, too.

The Mets look like they will be in October. Thats the good part.

From there, it will take a lot of luck. A good couple of weeks out of some key pitchers and the Mets can make a run. But as we saw last year, a few late inning blunders and a few decent starts from an opposing pitcher and the season is over, even when we are the better team.

For now, all I can say is...

BOOMER SOONER!

Oh.

And Lets go Mets!

Vaya,
Sip

Before I close, I just wanted to take a minute to pay my respects to everyone who lost someone in the attacks of September 11th, 2001. That remains the most vivid day of my life.

(Pics courtesy of Stadiumpanaramics.com, comcast.net, nypost.com)

The 700 Club

Big day in New York sports on Sunday. Pedro returned to the Shea Stadium mound. Roger Federer continued his run of Grand Slam titles and awkwardly self-congratulatory victory speeches. Brother Eli actually had some flashes of inspired play. Britney looked coked out of her mind.

And Y2K, the little website that could, notched its 700 career post in just under two years. If you'd have asked me in October 2005 whether this site would get to 700 posts I'd have said no chance in hell, but here we are. Go us!

None of it, of course, is enough to convince Matt Cerrone to include us among the "Other Mets Blogs" on his site, but whatever. He also still lists us as being at yankees2000.blogspot.com, which we left in December of last year. But whatever.

In any event, yes it was a big sports day yesterday, but obviously the only storyline I really followed with legitimate interest was the return of Pedro.

And what a thing it was. What a showman that guy is; honestly, can you think of another figure who so delights the home crowd? Yankee fans admire and love Jeter, but does he fill them with glee?

Ewing, Messier, Piazza, the great New York sports figures of our youth, did they thrill you the way Pedro does? It's basically impossible to watch Pedro perform without immediately becoming really happy.

It's not a knock on any of those guys -- hell, I loved the Monster as much as any Mets fan around. Ewing? New York hasn't been the same since he left. But neither of them had that same quality that Pedro does, that rare gift to impart joy in the audience. It's just such a pleasure to watch.

Needless to say, none of that charisma is worth a damn if Pedro is getting rocked, but through 10 innings at least that hasn't been happening. He's got another three starts or so before the playoffs, plenty of time to build arm strength, shake off any lingering rust and show us the pitcher he will be, post-surgery. Let's hope he gets to a place where we all feel good about him taking the ball in Game 1 at Shea.

In other Mets happenings, Carlos Beltran has somehow managed to get his numbers into totally good season territory and David Wright has some SERIOUSLY bad acne thing going on right now. Yikes.

And tomorrow's 9/11. Every year I intend to write something really heartfelt about it but I never do. Let's just say I nearly weep every time I see footage of Piazza hitting that homerun in the first game back in New York after it happened.

Anyway, that's all for now. The Giants are down 10 with 7:20 to play as I finish this. Remember when we used to call Eli "Captain Comeback"? Well how 'bout it, Eli?

- A.F.O.M.G.

Y2K 2007 NFL New York Season Preview

Alright, let's get this out of the way. You don't like me, and I don't like you. Oh, you like me? Whatever. I still don't like you.

But that's no reason to deny you, the 25 percent of Y2K's readership desirous of an NFL season preview, the reward you so richly deserve. However, in deference to the majority of good, God-afearin' baseball fans who frequent this site, the preview will be limited to the one (1) team plying its trade in the Empire State, and the two (2) other pretenders to that name who, in fact, occupy the substandard province of New Jersey. I'm looking at you, Wellington Mara. Actually, I'm looking at your granddaughter. But don't you worry your head about that.

Let's go!

Best offense in New York -- Buffalo Bills

Hey, I'm as shocked as you. For all his tree cleanin', city adoptin' prowess, J.P. Losman hasn't exactly proven anything as an NFL quarterback, whereas both the Jets' Chad Pennington and the Giants Lucy Manning are both veterans of the postseason. Moreover, the Bills have an even more unproven player manning the backfield, the hilarious but endogenously enigmatic Marshawn Lynch, arguably most famous for driving a golf cart around his home field at Cal after a particularly stimulating win. Say what you will about Brandon Jacobs and Thomas Jones (and there's plenty to say), but at least they've played a down in the league.

So wherefore the love for the Bills, then? (Aside from the blatant homerism.) Like the shark says, it's the cream filling. The line, morons, the line. Buffalo GM/archivist Marv Levy went out and spent his free agent millions on a completely new set of offensive linemen, and assembled himself a quiet wrecking crew in the process. The names won't jump off the page at you -- Derrick Dockery, formerly of Washington, Jason Whittle from the Vikes, and Langston Walker, ex- of the Raiders -- but all are efficient and hard-working beasts who will pimpify a unit that hasn't been respectable since the Super Bowl years.

I don't hate the other two offenses -- the Jets obviously have some decent pieces, and I'm more of a Jacobs guy than pretty much anyone. But the Giants, after the GM-fueled controversy of the offseason, are practically the polar opposite of the Bills when it comes to line stability, and they only have the task of replacing their best running back ever. And the Chad Pennington-Kellen Clemens situation is going to get worse before it gets better, especially after Marshall's finest goes 15 of 27 this weekend against the Pats and looks weak-armed doing it -- the quarterback controversy columns from Kevin Kernan and the asshole from the Daily News (I know, which one?) are practically in the can. All three teams will be right in the middle of the pack, but Buffalo -- with stud receivers Lee Evans and Roscoe Parrish waiting in the wings -- is most likely to have a breakout year.

Best defense -- New York Jets

Here's my impression of Michael Strahan's off-season -- sip, scarf, snuff, sit, sip, scarf, sip, sit, lift, snuff, go on "PTI" to whine about his contract, sit, snort, sip, call "Mike and the Mad Dog," sit, sign.

Not exactly the stuff winning seasons are made of, folks. As much as I like the Jints' speed rushing duo of Osi Umenyiora and Mathias Kiwanuka (Wasn't it great when Mitt Romney stopped by training camp in Albany to rail against illegal immigration? What a guy.), they've got no depth and the highly overrated Antonio Pierce manning the fort at ILB. Look elsewhere.

The situation in Buffalo is no better, unless you're a Polish-American resident of Western New York who's already bought a Paul Posluszny jersey. And you know there's a bunch of them. The Bills have a decent lineman in Aaron Schobel and two nice young safeties in Donte Whitner and Ko Simpson, but their linebackers are completely untested after the departures of Spikes and Fletcher, and their response to losing Nate Clements to the 49ers (for a completely insane amont of money, mind you) was to sign a guy who didn't play at all last year, Jason Webster. I can't even begin to explain how weak the center of the defense is going to look against any team with a running game.

Which brings us to Coach Mangini's band of renown, who'll start a green (but very rich) rookie at cornerback in Darrelle Revis, straight outta Alquippa. They're unfortunately highly solid at practically every other slot, with Vilma and the criminally underrated Eric Barton a tackling bloc in the middle of the backing corps. Shaun Ellis has always gotten a bad rap, but he's looking at a great year next to the still-improving Dewayne Robertson. The rest of the secondary is balanced and well-coached. As a unit, they're somewhere on the periphery of the Top 10.

But compared to the two loser groups playing in blue, they might as well be the Purple People Eaters. Advantage, Revis.

Best Special Teams -- Buffalo Bills

In a landslide. The balding but otherwise dishy Brian Moorman is the best punter since Liam Gallagher, and the return corps of Parrish and Terrence McGee is the best in the league according to everyone from Peter King to Pro Football Prospectus to the guys who hang out in the falafel shops down in the West Village. Kicker Rian Lindell has the best field-goal percentage in franchise history. There's nothing not to like. Coach Bobby April's the equivalent of the guy who won all the technical Oscars for "Wild Wild West." Does that make Losman Will Smith? I don't care. Meanwhile, the less said about the Giants and special teams, the better.

Best Coach -- New York Jets

Another landslide. Buffalo's Dick Jauron isn't shitting the bed like most expected him to, but neither is he going to do anything unbecoming of a Yale man, like win dirty if he has to. They don't have "outside-the-box" thinking in the course catalog in New Haven. Now, there's nothing wrong with being a solid, vanilla leader, especially when you consider the alternatives. (Hint: Rhymes with "Offlin.")

But neither does it make a coach special, as the Mangina certainly appears to be. Which is infuriating, seeing as how he's done it by swiping all of his tactics and tics whole cloth from mentor Bill "I Ruined a Marriage and Somehow Tricked the Media Into Thinking it was Wrong to Cover the Story" Belichick. Right down to the media relations angle. Even with the sloppy dressing. This isn't a lazy Lupica angle to the story, nor is it idle armchair psychoanalysis --- Mangini is certainly his own man in many regards, and the actual plays being called are different, but the big picture is nothing but a carbon copy. That's notable, if not dispositive.

Whatever, though, right? You can't argue with the results, and while the J-E-T-S were lucky as hell last year with their weak-ass schedule, they also beat the Pats and would have beaten Chicago and Indy with even a little bit of an extra push. They may be a better team this year and wind up with a worse record, which tells you a little something about the role luck plays in the NFL. In any case, their coach is by far the best-equipped to deal with anything that crops up during the course of a season. Like a team's best player declaring his early retirement, for example. That sort of thing.

Predictions

Buffalo 9-7, Wild Card, blown out in first round by San Diego, J.P. Losman marries a farmer's daughter

Jets 8-8, Pennington replaced in Week 6, injures arm while tossing Gatorade bottle on sideline

Giants 5-11, most boring team in football, Coughlin signs a 2-year extension

28 (-22) Days Later

When I wrote last Friday I told you a couple of things. I told you that I didn't care as much about the series against the Phils because the Mets are now fully entrenched in the role as the favorite. My sense of urgency with each game just wasn't there, like it used to be, because we no longer had to play with our backs against the wall. I also told you that the series didn't matter. The Mets were still up 2 on the Phils with 3 weeks to go. They were the best team and they would be fine.

Here we are about a week later.

And I could not be happier.



This weekend against the Braves was a sweat. It was not the 118 degree Mexican heat that had my juices flowing. It was the importance of the series. The Mets finally needed these games. They couldn't afford another series loss. I found myself running around the lovely city of Punto Palasco, Mexico scrambling for updates unlike any time since 2000. And I was happy. I needed those games. I needed Mets baseball and I needed it the way I had it for the first 24 years of my life: I needed the anxiety.

And the Mets prevailed.

Which takes us to part II of my point from last Friday. The Phillies series didn't matter.

Here we are 6 days later and the Mets are 5 games up on the Phils. Every newspaper and fan in NYC who wanted Willie's head or thought the season was done is now pleasantly surprised. Sip's endorphines have not changed one bit.

Sip remains even keeled.

The Mets were and remain the best team in the National League. They should make the playoffs. And now we are just a bit closer. And with the return of Pedro an early success, Willie will actually have to make a managerial decision of substance.



Assuming the Mets make the playoffs, who are they going to throw out there on the mound?

The first question to ask is how many starters? I think the answer is that the Mets will definitely go to a 4-man rotation. There is no reason to have pitchers going on short rest when no one really stands out as the Ace of the staff that you really want to force out there.


So which four?

This one has my head spinning.

I think the only lock is Glavine...Right? Then maybe El Duque, the guy with the playoff experience.

But which 2 do you take out of Pedro, Maine and Perez? I don't think you could argue against any of them (assuming Pedro remains healthy).

All these guys can pitch. Pedro is a hall of a famer, sure. But Maine and Perez , despite some recent struggles, are 15 game winners who were great last October.

Do you go by matchups? Do the Mets go for Maine and Pedro in a series against the righthand heavy dbacks but replace Perez with one of the two against the lefty dominated Padres?

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Managers don't earn their money making these types of decisions, they earn it keeping players and ownership happy and comfortable. But the media doesn't realize this, or at least does not want to admit it.

So Willie's season will most likely be judged by this decision.

Thoughts?

Vaya,
Sip

(Pics courtesy of Nymag.com, wordpress.com)

Cheddar in the Land of Canaan, or, How the Sports World Got Its Groove Back

Am I a bad luck charm? Does the Cheddar give the sports scene indigestion?

It's a fair question. Last week, the kid was zoned into a crucial week in the baseball calendar: Mets-Phils, Yanks-Sox, Angels-M's. Locked in. Following all the games, obviously, but also with an ass grooved into the seat of the couch. I caught as much baseball as humanly possible during a week where one also lands a job. The new HD set was part of the attraction, true, but to quote Curtis, I was focused, man.

And what was the result of all this high-intensity attention? Well, if you're reading this blog, you're probably aware of what happened. The whole fucking world melted down. The Metsies blew the game of the year, Billy the Kid turned bitch, the Yanks cruised through the heart of the Boston rotation, Vlad put a massive stake through the AL Wild Card race ... I mean, come on. It couldn't have gone worse with Werner Herzog directing.

So, Friday after getting out of the office, Cheddar unplugged himself from the Apple. Severed the cord to civilization. "Escuchela ... la ciudad repirando" ... knocked off all that good shit for a moment, and caught the after-work express out of Grand Central as the sun began to set. Along for the ride was Kid Slick's new squeeze, the Gourmet Gal, a bottle of fine scotch and a backpack full of hope. Our goal? To commune with nature, or at least peace and quiet, over a boozy Labor Day weekend.

Did we succeed? Yes, we did. And then some.

Kid Slick picked me and the lady up at the Tenmile River MetroNorth station (a little slice of nowhere, in the very likely case you've never been), and the three of us headed out to Canaan, Conn., where we were joined for a couple of nights by a rotating murderer's row of cool cats. We're talking some seriously fine folks here -- hard-drinking, harder-smoking, Pictionary-playing people.

Wiffleball was played, and after our lungs were spent, we Home Run Derbied crabapples. Hills were hiked. Tag sales were frequented. Barbs were cued. Labor Day was spent the way it was meant to be spent.

And perhaps as interestingly, while Cheddar Ben was away from his usual perch (at a computer, reading about and/or watching sports), the sports world righted itself. And then some. The Mets came through like champs and swept the Braves while Philly was busy being Philly down in South Beach. Pedro's smile came 'round the bend, just like I knew it would. The Yanks happily dropped a series to the D-Rays.

But, unbeknownst to me at the time, the sports world reasoned that more was called for. And so there was the unseen sight of Clay Buchholz becoming the third pitcher in baseball history to throw a no-hitter in one of his first two starts. At the same time, the Fat Hick Overpaid Texan went hard down with a richly-deserved injury. How much per start again? And the Williams of Division 1-AA went into the Big House and knocked off No. 5 Michigan in its home opener in front of 100,000 of college football's Yankee fans.

Appy State, Y2K salutes your moxy and spirit. You're what this site's all about.

It was a Good News weekend for the ages, one of the best of all time, and it came while I was intentionally not paying attention to anything in the sporting world. Now, the question is to process what it all means. I mean, I'm with Morpheus on this one. When it comes to reversals of fate like this, I do not believe in coincidences.

But what could the sports world be trying to tell me? What, damn you, what? What should I do? What's the meaning of it all?

Is this a retort? Is the sports world simply trying to back me up off of her a little bit? Wouldn't be the first time it's happened, of course, and if couched in the proper terms, the sports world might even seem more attractive to me afterwards. But that seems so excessive.

Could this be a teachable moment? Is the sports world trying to deliver a valuable lesson about how to most effectively be a fan to one's teams? The meaning here would be clear enough -- that sometimes, less is more; that sometimes, you can only glimpse the truth out of the corner of your eye. Like Arthur learning how to fly in "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," I suppose.

It might even be an out-and-out rejection; the worst-case scenario. The sports world, fickle mistress that she is, might be telling me, "Yeah, watch if you want, but you're not going to be happy if you do." I'll be the alternate universe Cassandra of the athletic realm -- condemned to stay away from my favorites, lest I sent them to perdition by my very presence. The only solution? Total withdrawal. The cost?

A man's soul.

Clearly, more study is required here. I don't yet have the tools to decipher the events of this past weekend, nor do I necessarily know where they might be found. But pursue them I will. Something happened in Canaan. Something strange, and I'm not going to rest until I find out what.

P.S. Angels play-by-play man Steve Physioc just bit the dust HARD during the fourth inning of Tuesday's L.A./Oakland game, absolutely sliming a discussion of Bobby Crosby's injury woes. It eventually came to light that Crosby had been seeing a hand specialist named Dr. Shin. You see where this is going. Even Rex Hudler, who's never been accused of making sense, was horrified ...

Physioc: Seems like a doctor named Shin should be more of a foot specialist.
Hudler: [after a pause] Yeah, I guess so.
Physioc: You know what the definitition of a shin is?
Hudler: What's that?
Physioc: The part of the body used to find furniture in the dark
Hudler: [absolute silence]
Physioc: You know, when you're in a hotel room in another country, and you can't find the lights ... [trailing off]
Hudler: [nervously hops in] Oh, yeah. Oh, I see where you were going now.

Just brutal.

So Back!

We say it all the time around here... baseball's a funny game. One day you're cock of the walk, the next day you're cock of nothing.

Beaten 4 straights by the Phils last week, in, possibly, increasingly devastating fashion as the week wore on, the Mets were cock of nothing last week. My lord did our heads hang low!

And why shouldn't they have? No sooner were we printing our playoff tickets (7 games up!) than we had lost 5 straight and had seen our lead in the East dwindle to a measly 2 games.

But wouldn't you know... four days later and all is well again. Our lead is back up to a tidy 5 games, which, with 25 games left to play, makes for a