Johan: What's Gained, What's Lost, and What's to Come

(Note: A.F.O.M.G. shares his thoughts on the Johan Santana deal immediately following this piece from KFC)

I was just sitting back, catching up on Friday Night Lights on TiVo, waiting to hear what the guys on PTI have to say about the Giants, having a fine Tuesday afternoon, when I got a text message: "Welcome Johan!"

This is the best news the Mets have gotten in an offseason in my lifetime. This makes up for the dumb little trades that MetsGeek posters have whined about - the Bannister trade, the Owens-Lindstrom trade, the Lastings trade. Those mean nothing. The Mets are the best team in the National League.

But, undoubtedly, you're going to hear otherwise as the season gets closer.

Before I get to that, let's look at:

The Good

1. The Best Pitcher on the Planet (TM)

This is irrefutable. Peter Gammons said that if there's one player in baseball take takes the Mets from very good to World Series contender, it's Johan, and I agree. He is first in wins, ERA and strikeouts among all pitchers in baseball over the last 4 years, in the AL. He's won two Cy Youngs and should have won the MVP in 2006. He's dominated the NL in his career.

Additionally, Mets fans, perhaps more than any in the league, know how to welcome a new marquee pitcher. He's going to love us and we're going to love him.

2. The Effect on the Team

Slotting in a true number 1 moves everyone into less pressure-packed positions in the rotation. Pedro can exhale, knowing it's not all on him. Maine and Ollie can continue to develop. I also expect a guy like Ollie, who I understand to be impressionable, to shadow his fellow Latino lefty throughout the season.

People have also noted how this is going to change the story going into the Spring, diverting attention from the collapse. Although the Mets have the personalities to answer the questions about that with smiles on their faces and positivity in their voices, now we know they'll believe what they're saying.

3. We Kept Our Two Best Prospects

After a front-of-the-rotation starter, the hardest player to get in baseball is the middle of the lineup masher. You so rarely hear prospects get compared to players like Manny Ramirez. Losing Fernando Martinez would have been disappointing. Keeping Fernando is an unexpected surprise. It seems the Omar is committed to this kid taking over for Moises Alou when Citi Field opens.

I know Pelfrey is not technically a prospect anymore, but that's just semantics. There is a strange phenomenon among analysts to immediately discount a player when he doesn't make an impactful debut in the majors. Homer Bailey, Phil Hughes and Chad Billingsley were the three best pitching prospects in baseball a year ago. They all had less-than-Joba-esque debuts in the majors and have been devalued. Pelfrey is in this group as well.

I'll take Mike Pelfrey any day (especially over Humber and Mulvey, who I will get to). He was still the top-ranked pitcher in his draft. He was still our top ranked organizational prospect last season. He still has a mid-to-upper 90s fastball that moves. He still has the potential to have a devastating curveball (a pitch that's usually the last to develop). He still is 6'10. He still is strong. He still had a few strong starts in September, when the Mets were fading. And he just turned 24 two weeks ago. I'll go to war with a guy like Pelfrey in the fifth slot in the rotation any day of the week.

4. Omar's Read of the Market

This is a very important part of this, too. When it was floated in the media, presumably by the Twins brass, that the Mets could have Santana if they added F-Mart to the deal, Matt Cerrone wrote this on Metsblog:

"For what it's worth, the following day in a poll for MetsBlog.com, when asked if the Mets should trade these five prospects [the four traded and Fernando Martinez] for Santana, and sign him to a long-term deal, 78 percent said, 'Yes.'"

This still would have been a good trade, but by reading the market, Omar managed to keep our best prospect. This seems like a high-risk game he played, but the confidence coming out of the Mets front offices suggests that the Mets know how this would play out from at least the Winter Meetings. We have a spectacular GM. I'm very proud of the way this was handled.

It's not as if we gave up no one, though...

The Guys We Gave Up

1. OF Carlos Gomez

This guy is the supposed jewel of this trade. Take him. If he's 75% the player Torii Hunter is, I'd be surprised. He may steal 60 bases in a season. He'll probably hit about .285. He's going to play a great center field and we know he's a likeable, bat-sniffing fellow.

But he's no star. He's a 6'4" slap hitter who seems to have no power stroke whatsoever and - considering we have Beltran in Center, Reyes at the top of the lineup and Castillo batting second for the next four years at least - Carlos Gomez, the 7th-spot hitting left fielder, is virtually useless for us. This is no loss whatsoever.

2. RHP Deolis Guerra

This is the guy we might miss. This guy might become a 20-game winner. He apparently is 6'5", with hands down to his knees and is only 18. The Mets, from what I hear, were in love with this guy in the same way they love Fernando Martinez. Still, I say "So what?"

It's not like he's a year away from making an impact, he's three years away. He had a 4.01 ERA in High-A last year, which means nothing except that he has to figure some things out before he moves up. I'm as into judging a pitcher based on raw talent and body type as anyone, but I'm more than willing to part with a guy who only has projection, and no real productivity to speak of, going for him.

3. RHP Kevin Mulvey

I'm thrilled we got rid of him. He screams "sell high." He apparently is a bulldog and has a good fastball. He also has only one season and change of professional baseball. He was pretty good at AA, but not great by any stretch.

He'll definitely be a major leaguer, but if he ever is a guy who pitches under a 4.00 ERA in the AL, I'll be surprised. In other words, he's a good, cheap pitcher for the Twins, and a highly-replaceable pitcher for the Mets - even at his rosiest projections.

4. RHP Phil Humber

Good Riddance. Seems like a nice guy and came back from Tommy John surgery. He's also 25. He has a losing record in the minors. We've all seen him - he's completely ordinary.

I'm thrilled that his lack of Major League experience was seen by pundits, and the Twins, as a plus and they chose him over Pelfrey. I doubt Humber will even be a starting pitcher in the majors, outside of a token try-out.

Most importantly, none of these guys were going to help this year, or even next year, in any serious way. This is the biggest coup of them all.

Of course, the media will find aspects of this deal to quibble with, so I want to debunk the following.

The Crap You're Going to Hear from the Media

1. Johan's Arm Trouble

I'm pretty sure you can say this about any pitcher in baseball. It's a meaningless point. Johan is younger than Erik Bedard and has pitched in 33 games or more in every Major League season. We'll be fine.

2. The Mets Were "Aggressive" (Sayeth Olney) and "Panicked" (Sayeth Kurkijan)

This is ridiculous. The Mets put an offer on the table, never altered it and it was the one that was eventually taken. If they were acting desperately, they would have moved Jose Reyes or Fernando Martinez. Perhaps the Mets needed Santana more than the Red Sox and Yankees, but the Mets didn't do anything stupid here. They were incredibly patient in this process, and that should be noted by the media.

3. Carlos Gomez is a Future Star

I'm not buying it, and I can't imagine anyone who watched him hit thinks so either. I've heard that he'll be the outfield's version of Jimmy Rollins. Well, that guy exists. His name is Curtis Granderson. Granderson hit 23 home runs last year.

Gomez has never had more than 8 in a minor league season, and only had 2 last year at New Orleans in 140 ABs. As I said before, Gomez will probably be a .285 hitter with a .340 OBP or so, but even if he's a .300 hitter with a .360 OBP, he's not going to slug much over .400 and a star that does not make.

4. The Farm System is Depleted

The farm system is weakened, but not depleted. We still have Fernando Martinez, as well as young pitchers that I've been told the Mets are very excited about, including Brant Rustich, Nathan Vineyard, Eddie Kunz and Jon Niese, as well as what everyone says is a great Latin class. We don't have great positional prospects, but, obviously, that was only marginally affected by the trade of Gomez.

But to say that the farm system is depleted in a vacuum ignores the point of the statement. The Mets have a core of players playing under reasonable or below-market contracts who are under their control for several years, including Reyes, Wright, Maine, Church, Pelfrey and Heilman.

They also have Ollie Perez for the year at a a rate far below the $16 mil per year he'll command if he repeats his 2007 performance (according to Major League Trade Rumors). And, I'm sure you noticed that Andruw Jones, he of the .714 OPS is making more per year than Carlos Beltran now.

The places we might need young guys to fill in - second base, corner outfielder and catcher - we didn't have before (outside of Martinez) and we don't have now. We still have strong relief pitcher prospects and we're going to send out a starting pitcher every day that is head and shoulders better than Mulvey and Humber.

* * * * *

The Mets really killed it on this trade. This feels decidedly like Kevin Garnett to the Celtics. Congrats to all of you.

- Kenny From Camp

Joy in Mudville

I haven't been this excited since Endy went over the wall.

OK, OK. First things first, I'm not going to bury the Phillies just yet. They have a very talented club, and the Mets' big move today didn't change that.

That said, January 29, 2008 is a watershed day for our beloved Mets. Underlying the bated breath all offseason and the excitement we fell right now is this simple fact: Johan Santana is the best pitcher in the big leagues, and once we get his mammoth contract worked out, he'll be a Met.

It's an extraordinary feeling. One I'm not quite sure I'm equipped to deal with just yet.

There hasn't been a day like this since the Mets acquired Mike Piazza. There was that awful day we traded Scott Kazmir -- that was the last trade we made on this level of magnitude. There was that glorious day we signed Pedro Martinez, but that's not really the same thing.

Sip's said it before, trading for a player and signing a free agent are markedly different phenomena. When you trade for somebody you give something up, something that's been important to you, something you've been excited about. Something is lost beyond Fred Wilpon's money, and it's something you cared about for some period of time. Because of your emotional involvement, you earn the player you acquire.

In that sense, the Mets earned Johan Santana. We talked about Carlos Gomez a goodly amount this year, marveling at his potential and his speed and his catch at the wall in Yankee Stadium.

Phil Humber was one of the kids who gave us hope after the Kazmir debacle.

Deolis Guerra has a ton of upside.

Kevin Mulvey went from obscure draft pick to our best pitching prospect in three months.

So we lost something, and in that sense we earned Johan Santana.

In another sense, however, the feeling I shared on Monday still prevails. "Say we're the Twins and we've got to trade Johan," I wrote Sunday night, "would we ever feel good about doing it for the package of prospects the Mets are offering?"

The feeling is the Mets stole this one. According to ESPN's SportsNation, ~90% of 33,000 respondents have said the Mets got the better end of the deal. In a different ESPN poll, 82.6% of 29,000 respondents said the Mets "stole" Johan from the Twins.

The data's interesting, but the point is this: ask any Mets fan if he'd have been OK trading Gomez, Humber, Guerra, and Mulvey for Johan Santana and every single one of them would have said yes.

And that's what counts. This is our team. This is the team we agonize about. This is the team we've rooted for our entire lives. This is the only baseball team we could ever care about.

And today, that team had a very good day.

Team to beat in the National League? I say it with absolute humility: I think we are.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Lazy Sunday

Thank god the SAG Awards are on. A moment ago I was so bored I nearly... I don't know what, but I can assure you it would have been pretty effng depressing.

(However, in the 5 minutes now I've been watching, I've seen Mickey Rooney give a rambling speech that was horribly self-indulgent, then they went and botched their In Memoriam tribute to Heath Ledger. 0-for-2 so far.)

Thank goodness the Giants are going to the Super Bowl! Without Big Blue there'd really be nothing for me to get excited about except for the days getting steadily longer.

(My god, and now the woman from American Gangster is up there stammering and stuttering her way through her acceptance speech -- make it stop!)

That probably differentiates me from a sizeable portion of the Mets' fanbase, which is now, in all likelihood, in official countdown mode to February 6. For those not in the know, the next 10-day period has been identified as the window in which Johan Santana will be traded.

I've had a healthy skepticism about this whole Johan-to-the-Mets thing since the beginning, and I hate to say it but I'm not about to change my tune. I'd love to be proven wrong here, but... well, let me put it to you like this. Say we're the Twins and we've got to trade Johan -- would we ever feel good about doing it for the package of prospects the Mets are offering?

(Has an actress ever portrayed Queen Elizabeth and not been nominated for an award?)

That's not to say our package is awful -- frankly, I think there's something to be said for getting quantity out of a mega-deal, rather than putting all your eggs in one basket. On top of that, there's the whole trade-him-where-you-won't-have-to-face-him argument, which Mets fans know a thing or two about.

That all said, I'm not going to count on it. I think the Yankees or Red Sox will get him, and I think whichever one of those teams does will never lose again.

As for the Mets, even as seemingly every reporter on the planet writes about how they haven't done a thing to improve their roster thus far this offseason, the one thing I take a lot of solace in is that, to a man, every player leftover from last year's roster who's talked about the collapse has talked about how disappointing it was and how determined they are to become an elite club again.

Getting a sense that the players care is important to fans of every stripe. You can love teams that fall short, even ones that choke, so long as you never doubt their fire, as long as you think they care.

For the 2007 Mets, complacency was the order of the day, not intensity. As we look ahead to the 2008 season, well, the Mets aren't the team to beat in the National League any more, but damned if they don't sound like they're ready to play with some fire.

Hell, if we get really lucky, maybe they'll even play like the Giants.

- A.F.O.M.G.

P.E.D. Panic

At the one pole, there's claptrap artist Jay Mariotti of the Chicago Sun-Times, railing against the possible acquisition by the Cubs of an excellent player and apparent great guy who admitted to taking steroids once. Jay cares not for your apologies.

So now, as the Cubs consider making a major deal with the Baltimore
Orioles for Roberts, we're supposed to conveniently forgive this episode as one
simple, human mistake? He didn't tell the truth, people. He didn't tell the
truth, people ... What is more important: (a) trying to win your first World
Series in 100 years by acquiring an elite leadoff hitter and second baseman ...
; or (b) maintaining integrity as an organization during a scandalous period in
baseball history?

I choose integrity.

Good for you, champ. Try not to slip and fall off your soapbox.

And then at the far extreme there's dogged Marty Noble, the Walter Mondale of Mets beat reporters, taking questions on MLB.com.

Q: Mr. Noble, you don't seem to take a hard or harsh stand on many
things -- Randolph's role in the Mets' collapse, Jose Reyes' terrible September,
Carlos Delgado's awful season, Guillermo Mota's pathetic pitching. Why not?
-- Alex D., Lincoln Park, N.J.

A: I'm not sure it's my place to take
a stand -- hard, harsh, soft or otherwise -- on anything. What I do when I cover
a game is write what I've seen through my own eyes (and glasses), which have
seen a lot of baseball. I can say this: most baseball situations are not as
black and white as most people think. Almost everything is gray -- which is to
say, there are extenuating circumstances.

If that isn't the biggest bunch of wishy-washy, bleeding heart, liberal four-eyed horseshit I've ever heard, I don't know what is. It's not your job to take a stand on Jose Reyes deciding that running out pop flies isn't important? It's not your job to take a stand on a .230 batting average? It's not your job to take a stand on Omar trading away a proud brother for two pale imitations of beisbol players? Come on, now. What are you, Marty ... chicken?

But, all that said, they're both wrong. It is of course possible for writers to take stands on any number of issues without compromising the integrity of their writing or their coverage, just as it is possible to iterate those stands without coming across as a complete tool. Take steroids. The Mets last year employed several folks named in the Mitchell Report, as well as one guy who'd tested positive and had to sit out for 50 games, the penalty for a first-time offender. Say hi to Guillermo.

And, of course, there was discussion both here and elsewhere about whether or not the Mets had compromised any principles for doing so. Without bothering to check for the precise language, I recall that very few folks were worried about the moral implications of signing Mota to a new contract, but were more concerned about whether the suspension would affect his value or productivity. It seemed to have quite the effect on both, but that's not the point. It was possible to stand in judgement of him as a man and player, while others were more sanguine about the P.E.D. use, and still maintain consensus on the appropriateness of the risk from the club's perspective. Many fans were able to accomplish this, as were some media outlets.

Everyone plays by the same rules. If you serve your suspension and you can still play, you're fine. If you serve your suspension and suck, you're Alex Sanchez. There's no problems either way. The children of Queens will survive regardless.

Beyond the moral implications or steroid use, however, there's the practical considerations. P.E.D. revelations are treated by most reporters as massive scandals deserving of blowout coverage and scrutiny. Whatever your thoughts are on that, it's fairly clear that steroid stories can dominate a team's media landscape for days or weeks at a time, distracting a club and/or its fans from the task of winning ballgames. That's the way of things. Come late summer, the Marlins could be running away with the division in one of the greatest success stories of all time -- if Dan Uggla gets caught with a vial of buff juice, Dan LeBatard will nevertheless lose his mind. (Is Uggla Mormon? Let's figure that out sooner rather than later.)

Recall that, courtesy of Kirk Radomski, the Mitchell Report was dominated by New York-based players. Recall as well that any story broken in New York is by definition broken nationally, and it becomes clear that a genuine Mets steroid scandal might rival The Ballad of Roger and Brian for attention in the sports pages of America. Nobody wants to see this, because just as Clemens' lying, cheating ways would invariably detract from any team he played for, and as the circus surrounding Barry Bonds certainly affected the efforts of other Giants (note: which isn't to say that Bonds and his stupendous .276/.480/.565 line were a net negative; just that the coverage was a drag on the on-field play), the Amazins would likewise suffer.

So let's take a look at the Mets' projected roster, and answer the question -- where are the potential pitfalls?

Catcher

Well, we can't do too much worse than "caught," so there we go. Ramon Castro looks like an old-fashioned oaf rather than a juicer, but let's admit that his head is the size (and shape) of a watermelon, and concede there's definite scandal potential here. Still, as a backup catcher, he wouldn't be a big enough story to really cause much damage. Schneider I'm still pettily ignoring.

First Base

If there have been any rumors about Delgado, I haven't seen them. Like Jim Thome, he's one of the '90s-era sluggers nobody really has ever suspected, and that's good. As a team leader/elder statesman type, he'd be a somewhat destructive "get." Plus, as an avowed anti-American, he'd be far more likely to be prosecuted by the hacks in the U.S. Attorney's Office.

Second base

Valentin is another definite possibility, assuming he makes the team. As a high-power middle infielder, he already stands out a bit, and the injury patterns certainly don't do anything to take away from a potential charge. Castillo, no.

Third base

God fucking forbid.

Shortstop

Not a chance.

Outfield

I've seen nothing of the sort about Alou or Beltran -- the former seems like the epitome of a wiry old-school guy to me, while the latter doesn't jibe with the types who have been showing up in any way. Endy Chavez hasn't taken so much as a Snickers bar, I would guess. As for our right fielder, I have no earthly idea what he's gotten into. Maybe Omar checked up with Manny Acta before making the trade, or maybe Jim Bowden has snookered us into taking a potential media bomb off his hands (a procedure henceforth known as Tejadaing). It's just too early to tell. I will say that if we find out Church has so much looked an a greenie sideways, you'll a series of Y2K posts entitled "Heresy!" go up faster than you can say Jack Robinson.

Rotation

I peg Ollie, Maine, El Duque (if he's on the team) and Kyle Lohse (gnashing teeth) as moderate Scandal Risks. Hernandez only because he's Cuban, and nobody knows what they might have done back in their Communist paradise; a similar line applies to Perez, for whom nothing is too bizarre. Maine only because he's an up-and-down type who could conceivable have used when he was struggling with the O's. I remained convinced Pedro would have been caught/turned in yet if there were anything there. Too many hit batsmen. Too many enemies.

Bullpen

Wagner would be given the chair if tobacco use was proscribed, but unless they outlaw chaw before the start of the season, we should be straight with him. There's definitely some potential for Heilman to blow up in our faces -- I can see him being put into the rotation, and three days later, T.J. Quinn nabs him dead to rights. Plus, guys from Notre Dame are inherently suspect. Feliciano? Yeah, possibly, but again, not a major enough player to cause any real distraction. Joe Smith would be a more of a problem, as he's white and fresh-faced and a better "story," so I'd prefer that nothing turn up from his crazy college or NECBL days. (Some background sourcing might be required there.) As for Duaner, I think it's fairly likely we see a "Sanchez admits painkiller addiction" headline before anything else. You try getting crushed an a taxicab and tearing some ligaments, and see how the OxyContin tastes then. Mmmm.

Manager

That'd be something, but not likely. Amphetimines, but no 'roids.

Front office

You heard it here first -- Jeff Wilpon is to the Mets as Shane McMahon is to the WWE. Watch out now.

The New Cardinals

When I shuffled out of Shea Stadium on a miserable night in October 2006 after Adam freaking Wainwright struck out Carlos Beltran after Yadier F'in Molina had hit a homer, I could have sworn I had been cheated.

The Mets had one of the most magical years of my life and the prissy, complaining, jerk-off Cardinals had stolen their spot in the World Series.

They weren't even scrappy underdogs. They were a team that got lucky after a mediocre season, were aided by fluke performances, bad weather and every bit of Karma not ascribed to Endy Chavez and stole the NLCS.

They weren't worthy champions and frankly, this isn't just the bitter Mets fan talking, but it undermines the credibility of the term World Series champion that this group of pretty mediocre punks wore the crown.

Now I'm sure the objective observer, not scorned by virulent hatred for Tony La Russa and his band of HGH'ers can draw some parallels between the Cardinals and Big Blue turning the table and making an out-of-nowhere magical run to the Super Bowl.

The Giants derailed the magical seasons of Dallas and Green Bay in back-to-back weeks and went from people discussing trading their franchise quarterback and firing their coach to readying the plans for a ticker-tape parade in their honor.

As much as I would be quick to point out that there are a tremendous number of differences that make this comparison unfair, the more I think about it, the more I realize that it doesn't matter. In the life of being a sports fan, the heartbreaking defeats are always going to outnumber the triumphant victories.

If you're lucky, your team will win a championship once every 10-15 years and hopefully make a couple more appearances in the finals.

Unfortunately for Knicks/Mets/Giants fans like myself and a lot of the Y2K faithful, we're in a bit bigger of a drought, because in most seasons your guy strikes out, the shot rims out or the QB throws a back breaking pick. All that's left is an analysis of someone else's team and your own judgments about your team.

So even though this Giants run came out of nowhere, when Larry Tynes' kick went through the uprights, it was a bolt of pure joy. For once, the break went our way, the luck was on our side and the team we supported surged at the right time and defied logic and the experts.

So even though I'll never forgive anyone wearing the color red, I understand why Cardinal fans couldn't care less what the critics of their 2006 team said.

When the ball finally rolls your way, it's all you ever hope for as a sports fan, and pretty or not, it's not the time to start looking a gift horse in the mouth.

- Happy Will

A Sad Day

We lost a great one today.

For those who know me well or follow the site you are probably aware of my affinity for the teen movie genre. Throw a bunch of high schoolers on a screen, let them have sex, play sports, go to the dance, whatever, and you will easily get Sip's $11.75 at the theater.

Heath Ledger starred in one of my all time favorites, 10 Things I Hate About You, back in 1999 when I was a horny teenager and actually the target audience. Me, the real Sippy and a couple of other buddies of mine would chill at my house and watch the flick like it was Casablanca.



And it was Ledger that stole the show.

Of all the memorable quotes, my personal favorite was when he inspired the geeky Cameron to go after the girl:

"Don't let anyone ever make you feel like you don't deserve what you want."

I used to use this line jokingly but here I am 9 years later and I am still using the damn quote like it were from Good Will Hunting or Big Daddy, my two most quoted movies.

It's really sad to see people go young, especially someone with such promise. Ledger was already nominated for an oscar and his turn as the Joker in this Summer's Batman movie already looks like it will be an all time classic.

RIP, Heath.

Vaya,
Sip

(Pics courtesy of Yahoo.com)

A Little Love for Brother Eli

Wasn't intending to write today given the holiday and everything, but I wanted to drop a little love for young Eli Manning after leading the Giants to the Super Bowl last night.

I can't think of another athlete in New York who faces the same kind of scrutiny as young Elijah. The only name that really comes to mind is Alex Rodriguez, but I don't think it's a fair comparison. A-Rod gets booed either because Yankee fans expect too much of him, or because he actually chokes, or because he's an extremely unlikeable guy.

Eli's different. I know a lot of Giants fans don't like Eli, but I don't think it's because he's an inherently unlikeable guy. Giants fans don't like him because he's got a bit of the hang dog expression, and because he's never lived up to the expectations of his name and the circumstances by which he came to be the Giants' franchise quarterback.

As fans, we very rarely find ourselves in a position where we can actually understand
the psychodrama swirling around a player. But with Eli, well, no matter how frustrated he makes me some times, I kind of sympathize with the guy. I always feel like I can relate to him somehow.

All of us have expectations to live up to. All of us want to make our parents proud. All of us want to prove we can succeed on our own, that we can get by on more than our name alone.

And so I think each of us kind of understands the burden Eli assumes every time he steps on the field. And for me at least, when I read those words that Eli's mother said to him after the game, "It's good to see you smiling, honey", well, it just made me feel really happy for the guy.

Frustrating as the guy is sometimes, he's the most compelling athletic drama this side of Friday Night Lights (plug!).

So here's to you, Eli. Now how about one more win?

- A.F.O.M.G.

Y2K: The Cheddar Ben Chronicles

To appreciate how stoked I am for the new "Terminator" series, you have to understand that A.F.O.M.G. once stalked around the Upper West Side for two days fiending for a VHS copy of T2. We couldn't find one at any of the video stores, nobody we knew owned it, and as a result, we ended up sulking on his couch for the better part of a weekend, constantly pointing out that nothing on television was nearly as entertaining as the movie would have been. I think that was how we ended up watching "Sorority Boys." But never mind that.

Anyway, I couldn't possibly be more excited for "Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles," and to be sure, the special two-night premiere was all I hoped for. Bleak yet inspiring vision of the future? Check. Ungainly cyborg-on-cyborg grappling? Check and check. A decent interpretation of Linda Hamilton's awesome 80s perm? Check (courtesy of Lena Headey, recently of "300"). Even the plot was pretty decent -- Terminators come back to track down John Connor in 1999, so with the help of a smoking young and good female Terminator (just go with it), they jump forward to the year 2007 (holler!) to stop the rise of the machines. Solid. Very solid.

And yet it occurred to me that in 2007, we already have our own version of the machines. I'm talking, of course, about the New York Yankees. Honestly, it stuns me that I haven't thought of this before. The analogy is simply more apt than any of the other cultural comparables (the Empire, U.S. Steel, Mordor) we attach to the team. Rooting for the Yankees is absolutely like rooting for the Terminators.

They both returned to prominence in the 1990s, propelled by strong relationships with powerful government officials. They're both perfectionist enterprises, bringing a committed, mechanical approach to their respective businesses. They both operate in a hellish, post-apocalyptic boneyard. (Sorry, South Bronx).

And, of course, both enjoy plenty of success. As long as you define success as "the complete eradication of everything that makes us human." I'm extremely comfortable with that definition. I mean, you tell me -- is there any way Mariano Rivera is NOT a cyborg? Please think before you answer that.

As an introduction to the new series, then, and as a primer to any of the resistance fighters who've traveled back to our time and remain unfamiliar with the parameters of the current, pre-Judgement Day struggle against the cyborg menace (i.e., the MLB season), we should probably match up the primary "Terminator" characters with their baseball personas.

You'll thank me in the future.

The machines -- The New York Yankees

See above. I've never seen this in action, but I'll bet you that when Robby Cano walks into a room, dogs just start barking like crazy. Aslo, tell me this timeline doesn't freak you out:

October 26, 1996 -- SkyNet goes online. Also, Jimmy Key outduels Greg Maddux and the Yanks beat the Braves, 3-2, to clinch their first World Series title since 1977 -- coincidentally, the same year the DOD launched ARPANET. Hmm.

October 21, 1998 -- The Bombers gain self-awareness and finish off their sweep of the Padres in San Diego.

February 18, 1999 -- The Yankees declare war on humanity, launching a pre-emptive nuclear strike on Russia. They know the response will eliminate their enemies here. Also, they trade for Roger Clemens.

October 21, 2000 -- The last collapse, as a Terminator double agent (Armando Benitez) sabotages the humans' defenses at the crucial moment.

November 4, 2001 -- The resistance begins. The Diamondbacks teach us to fight, to storm the wire of the camps, to smash those metal motherfuckers into junk. They turned it around. They brought us back from the brink.

And so forth. It's positively spooky.

Kyle Reese -- Steve Avery

A victim of the war. Before 1996, Steve Avery was an All-Star pitcher with a career 3.83 ERA; after his World Series loss, he was never the same. But the man fought the good fight for as long as he could, and to be sure, none in that time proved able to stand against the machines. Also, if you don't think the idea of Steve Avery taking down Linda Hamilton isn't hilarious, I don't know what to tell you.

Miles Dyson -- Brian Cashman

The architect of the abomination. Like Dyson, he claims to have no inkling of the consequences of his work. Admitted, it's not every day you hear you're responsible for 3 billion deaths. But take it like a man, at least.

Arnold -- Mike Lowell

Once a Terminator himself (or, put another way, a Yankees farmhand), he was eventually ripped free of the cyborgs' control and reprogrammed to serve the common good. He became a key part of a scrappy band of resistance fighters who proved able, in time, to win a crucial battle against the machines, overcoming ludicrous odds to do so. Plus, I can definitely see Lowell walking up to someone in a bar and telling them "I need your clothes, boots, and your motorcycle."

The T-1000 -- Jason Giambi

You'd better believe it. He was a new breed of killer, one who could cloak himself of the guise of a good and decent guy. But underneath, he was just aching to destroy the hardworking masses. A real wolf in sheep's clothing. Now, while they never came out and said the T-1000 was on steroids, you have to think there was some pretty weird chemical stuff going on inside that liquid metal. In the end, he proved to be nothing more than a pushover. As an aside, if anyone's planning on dumping Jason Giambi into a vat of smelted iron, let me know. I'd pay to see that.

Sarah Connor -- Pedro Martinez

For a while, the Terminators were Sarah Connor's daddy, too. They dominated her protectors at the police station, chased her around Los Angeles, even killed her main squeeze. To be completely honest, it didn't look great for her -- just as in 2003, things didn't look all that great for Pedro. But you always knew both were winners. Their hair was just too good to ignore. Eventually, both would score decisive victories over their mortal enemies (the Terminator being destroyed by a waitress with poofy curls could plausibly be described as the Greatest Collapse in Playoff History) and change history in the process.

For my money, after big innings, Pedro should come off the mound and scream "You're terminated, motherfucker!" at the opposing dugout. But that's just me.

John Connor -- Jose Reyes

The future. The leader of the resistance. The one who makes it all possible.

Plus, you can definitely imagine this conversation taking place in the Mets' dugout.

Reyes: No, no, no, no. You gotta listen to the way people talk. You don't say "affirmative," or some shit like that. You say "no problemo." And if someone comes on to you with an attitude you say "eat me." And if you want to shine them on it's "hasta la vista, baby."

David Wright: Hasta la vista, baby.

Reyes: Yeah but later, dickwad. And if someone gets upset you say, "chill out"! Or you can do combinations.

Wright: Chill out, dickwad.

Reyes: Great! See, you're getting it!

The point is, who but Reyes embodies the charisma the future Connor is said to possess? I can't think of any. I can't ever see Connor not running out an infield grounder, though, but that's why Reyes' future lies ahead of him.

Anyway, I got myself unappealingly pumped up by writing this. Monday nights will never be the same. You heard it here first.

The World Tour Continues

It's been a couple of months back in the city and Sip has grown bored. It's too cold to go outside, Reruns of 90210 on the Soap Network are in their dreadful post-college years and with AFOMG off the Upper west side, the old neighborhood just isn't the same.

Which means its time for Sip to ship off and ship out.

Next stop: Sydney, Australia.

I'm out of here tomorrow. A couple of days with the old crew back in SF, soak in some quaint eateries, decent weather, preppy pricks in pastels- many with unnecessary coke problems, but also what I find to be the most pleasant and peaceful town in this great country of ours.

And then I am off.

Remember those choose your own adventure books we read as kids. The ones where after about 4 tries you would cheat and read from the back to figure out how to actually complete the book. Well that is whats in the mix for Sip.

No people, plans or even a ticket home. If it wasn't for my love and respect for my pops, he's celebrating his 60th in May, I might never step foot in this great country of ours again.

So where does that leave us?

Right now I am both excited and disgusted by New York.

This Giants run is a lot of fun. I've told friends all year that the Giants could lose any week to any team and they could also make the Super Bowl. I try to avoid making statements like this, its too easy to give yourselves outs. But I finally may have hit one so allow me to soak in some credit. Us bloggers don't get enough of that.



It just kills me how quickly the nation and America can turn.

On ESPN 69% of the country thought Eli Manning was a better QB than Phillip Rivers. This is the same Rivers who made the pro bowl last year and who "experts" called "elite" going into the season. Going into the season these same "experts" wondered how much longer Manning would keep his job. But now, it is Manning who is more "consistent." Huh? Hasn't that been the non-stop knock on Eli forever.

This complete 180 is turning into the acceptable norm in sports. Mets fans have turned from optimists to pessimists in 3 short months.


So before I leave, let me make these two promises to you. Eli Manning is not That good and the Mets situation is far from being That bad.

Eli Manning has grown from decent game manager to very solid game manager. But he is still not a playmaking quarterback that can make him elite.

As for the Mets, here are some things to think about. Reyes and Wright are still getting better. They are still in their early 20's a couple of years shy of when Ryan Howard was first an everyday starter.

But much more importantly, Oliver Perez and John Maine are getting better.

A year ago, not a lot of you knew who Dan Haren was. He was a young pitcher entering his third season. He had a very solid first couple of seasons but had some weaknesses. He had lapses in control and gave up too many big innings. He would win 12-13 games and post an ERA right below 4. He was pretty good.



But then a crazy thing happened in his third full season. He was able to correct these flaws. He grew into his talent. And all of a sudden he went from relative unknown to backpage of the New York Post.

We have two pitchers with very similar problems and equally similar potential. OP is a lapse in control away from being an Ace. John Maine is a 4-run 5th away from being one too.

And why can't David Wright hit .330 next year. And why can't Jose Reyes hit 30 home runs.

We as New Yorkers spend too much time analyzing what we have "right now" and not enough time analyzing what we could have down the road.

3 weeks ago Eli Manning was a BUST. Now he is a hero who is living up to his last name.

5 years ago I was New York's biggest pessimist. Today, it appears I am drinking from the same Kool-aid as my buddy Happy Will. (I have noticed my deli throwing some extra coffee into my sugar)

I sit here right now watching We Are Marshall for the 5th time this week and I am starting to believe. If that Marshall team can put a football team on the field and even bring back Jack from the LOST island to coach a successful college football program, then anything can happen.

Ya just gotta believe.

Vaya,
Sip


(Pics courtesy of espn.com, boston.com)

The Giants Win?

I think back to January 20th, 1991.

Young Sip was a gritty 8-year-old finishing 4th in the New York City chess championships. A better result may have taken place only sip was distracted. The chess geeks put their tournament on the same day as the NFC championship game.

I don't have many vivid memories.

But I will never forget the ten of us, curled around a 3 inch portable tv (remember those). The picture was black and white and very fuzzy. A miracle was in the making and we were all silent.

And then, our cute-helmeted kicker reared back his relatively unimpressive leg and from 40 yards out, sent the New York Football Giants to the Super Bowl.

15-13 was the score. The Giants beat the 49ers in Candlestick. We all went nuts. And Matt Bahr was a hero.



I was euphoric. This was sports at its purest. An 8 year old kid running around hugging his friends, his brother and his father as his favorite team won.

Fuck chess, I thought. We were going to the Super Bowl. That was my first reaction.

My second: "Oh fuck. We're going to the Super Bowl."

Earlier that Sunday the Bills had clobbered the Raiders 51-3. Jim Kelly's k-gun offense was simply unstoppable. Thurman Thomas, James Lofton, Andre Reed. It was the greatest show on grass.

Most 8-year-olds would react one way when there team earned a birth in the super bowl. They would talk about how their team would go on to win the big one.

But not Sip. Even at 8, I was a cynic. I'm pretty sure I bet one of my brother's friends that the Giants would get killed. I'm glad I was wrong, of course. That Super Bowl was one of the best sports moments of my life.

But I wanted to show you the way I see things.

Which is why I am so utterly shocked with what down Sunday.

New Yorkers were generally extremely optimistic going into Sunday's game. Of course, these are the same New Yorkers who called for Eli's head a month ago, thought the Knicks would make the playoffs two months ago and were positive the Mets would do the same 4 months ago.



To Sip, the realist, this game was very scary.

The Cowboys pretty much scored at will against the Giants in the first two meetings of the season. The game was in Texas, with the Cowboys having two weeks to prepare/ canoodle with celebutards.

I figured the Giants had a chance, just not a good one.

And early, my fears were met. Down 14-7 right before the half and having allowed the Cowboys to milk a 10 minute drive and convert on what seemed like 19 3rd and longs in a row, I thought the Giants chances were grimm.

But a late and somewhat miracle 1st half score to tie the game at half had me and the rest of the crowd at Blondies at least assured that we would be watching some real football in the second half.

Unfortunately the third quarter appeared to be much of the same. The Cowboys were moving down the field with ease and after a Nick Folk fg, led 17-14. Big Blue's attack had been slowed and Sip was panicking.

But the game changed on back to back plays.

3rd and 13 from the Dallas 17 with a little over a minute to go in the third quarter.

The Cowboys had converted this type of play every single time they had the opportunity. And this time appeared to be no different.

Tony Romo did what he does did best, scrambling around trying to buy time to eventually make a play.



And he did. He found Patrick Crayton over the middle for what would be a heart-wrenching first down and potentially a lot more. There were no Giants defenders within 20 yards of him.

The crowd yelled as Sip stood silently.

Only this time it was different. Something happened that doesn't happen to teams Sip roots for. And that something was good. Patrick Crayton dropped the ball. He dropped the ball, the game and the Cowboys season.

RW McQuarters took the ensuin punt back deep into Dallas territory, leading to the game winning td-drive.

Of course there was a lot of sweating to follow. The game didn't end till the last minute. But just like that beautiful day in January of a991, the Giants came out on top.

.....................

Three Giants have really stood out for me as difference makers over the last handful of games: Ahmad Bradshaw, Justin Tuck and Corey Webster.

Bradshaw has been the ultimate sparkplug. Shifty, crafty, gritty- pretty much any adjective that ends in ty can be used to describe the little fella that has added another dimension to the Giants offensive attack.

Justin Tuck has put the Giants D-line over the top. With Michael Strahan and Osi Omenyora the Giants have the best pass rushing tandem in the game. But throw in a third guy that can get to the quarterback and offensive lines will be simply overmatched.



Offenses have to prepare differently otherwise their QB will be killed. The Giants didn't get to Romo too much in this game, but the Cowboys were also protecting him with extra guys.

Finally Corey Webster. Last week he made Joey Galloway disappear. This week he held T.O to 4 catches and 49 yards and about 112 tears. Not much more can be said.

But the key to the engine has been Eli Manning.

New York KILLED this guy for four years. The attacks were everything that was wrong with the New York Media and its fans. But now Peyton's disappointing little brother had the last laugh. Two straight games of solid and more importantly, mistake free football.

My dad pointed out that you could have gotten pretty decent odds on Eli playing in a conference championship and Peyton not. As always, my father was pretty spot on.

I need to go back and watch this game again. When you are so sure that someone will go wrong, you kind of lose touch with what is going on.

Next week in Green Bay makes me scared. Eli is about 0 for the century in games in the cold. But I guess with this team, you never know.

Vaya Con Dios,
SM

(Pics courtesy of dailynews.com, aol.com, viewimages.com, msn.com)

Johan?

So I know whats on your mind. We've all been drooling over this guy for what seems like years now and finally there is some hope. I know. You all want to know my thoughts on Sippy Momo.

Sip's trip down to heaven aka the Orange Bowl, GMAC Bowl and the BCS. How a still not fully pubescant Sip looks in facial hair. Maybe the future Mrs. Momo that Sip met down in the great state of Alabama?

See I would be happy to talk more about myself here- My Floyd Mayweatherian like New Years resolution:


But my good pal Nick the Voice specifically emailed me for my take on Johan, so here it goes.
.............

By now you all have seen the rumor in the Minneapolis Star Tribune that suggests a 4 for 1 including Phil Humber, Kevin Mulvey, Carlos Gomez and Deolis Guerra for Santana. I have about 9 reactions to this rumor and the realism of this rumor.

1. What on earth is the Minneapolis Star Tribune? I'm pretty sure this is the equivalent of getting excited over something you read in the New York Sun.

2. How far has Mike Pelfrey fallen?

3. What is going on with the Yankees and Sox? Here is my take. I think both teams are nervous about Johan. He wasn't all that dominant in the second half of 2007, is not a very big guy and he wants 6 years. Santana 2003-2005 was the closest thing we have seen to turn of the century Pedro.


But he has fallen off a bit over the last year and change. I am really starting to think that neither the Yankees or the Sox really want this guy. But I KNOW that neither wants the other to have him.

4. The Twins must be very aware of this.

And they are smart. Omar Minaya is a backpage GM. He loves the splash and has made it known he wants to make a big move.

Trading Santana to the Mets gets Santana out of the National League. But it also gets Hank Steinbrenner and his bag of insecurities back in the mix, fearful that the Mets will overshadow him.

And when the Yankees get back in the mix, then the Red Sox get back in the mix. And the leverage battle continues.

5. Kevin Mulvey?This guy was a fading prospect with #4 starter potential no more than 5 months ago. Now he is our featured arm.

The Mets have a bad farm system. There is no other way to put it. So while this deal would be mortgaging a farm system it's kind of the equivalent of dismissing the Orioles chances of winning in 2008. Yuo are giving up on very little.

6. Do the Mets need these prospects?

Everyone needs prospects. And over the last couple of years baseball has developed a real hard on for them.

But if the Mets made this deal they would be set at 1-2-3 starters for the next 5 years (Santana, Maine, Perez).

They would be set at 2b, SS, 3B and CF for the next 4 years( Castillo, Reyes, Wright and Beltran).



They would have fewer holes to plug than most teams and the time and money to redevelop a farm system.

7. #1 starters don't grow on treesThis guy makes the Mets the team to beat in the NL in 2008. That would be nice.

8. If this deal backfires, then one of my boys with the Dbacks gets our GM job and all of a sudden Sip is right back in the mix.

9. This deal as it stands will not happen anyway. The Mets offer just isn't good enough. Omar Minaya may have turned the Mets around over the last couple of years. But the state of the Mets farm system is a joke. Every other big money team in the game has had the guns to make big moves or throw top tier prospects on the field. The Yankees and Sox are stacked. The Tigers just acquired Cabrera and Willis. The Dodgers are stacked. The Angels are stacked. But here are the Mets, the perfect trading partner for the Twins, with nothing to offer.

It's pretty sad.

Vaya,
Sip

(Pics courtesy of wordpress.com, johansantana.net, mlb.com)

"And I think it's gonna be a long, long time ..."

The headlines were too kind, if anything, and barely reflective of the coverage inside. "Clemens Tries to Work Out of a Jam" indeed. Pop quiz, hotshots. You know you're in trouble when the New York Times:

A) Devotes the top 65 percent of its sports page to your press conference when the other major event of the previous day was, oh, I don't know ... college football's national championship game

B) Calls in a body language expert to call you guilty, the sort of move favored by Bill O'Reilly

C) Has its senior sports columnist call you a liar

D) Has its media columnist call the "60 Minutes" interview in which you defend yourself some weak sauce

E) All of the above

Now, the Yankee fans in the building will probably protest that there was no "F) Everything is fine, nothing to see" option, and good for them. In for a penny, in for a pound, and if you were willing to believe in the Legend of the Fat Traitor Hick way back when, no use throwing in the towel now. Gotta see this one through to the bitter, bulky end.

But everyone else should have chosen option Echo. Not for nothing, but Clemens probably committed career suicide up there at the podium Monday, strutting and huffing like a puffed-up rooster. The man was angry, to be sure, but it was hard to tell at what. The allegations? The media coverage? His water bottle? Very difficult to say.

What was clear is that a consensus has emerged. The new Conventional Wisdom can more or less be summed up in two points.

Point 1 -- He's guilty as shit

Point 2 -- He's a lying, backstabbing weasel

Now, the former is certainly a consequence of the widespread acceptance of the latter. Nothing factually new came out of the "60 Minutes" interview with Mike Wallace; the big draw was seeing Roger issue his denials live on tape, to an at least somewhat tough interviewer, with the lights on and the cameras rolling and all that. The evidence against him hasn't changed one bit. It's still all riding on the word of Brian McNamee, the former trainer who cut a deal with the Federales. No new test results or affadavits popped up since the Mitchell Report came out.

Rather it was Clemens' truly amazing disingenuity and blithe arrogance which turned even former supporters against him in the interim. Clemens attacked the allegations in the report head on, issuing a flat denial and moving on from there. He pulled out the bully moves -- statments of personal affront and aggrievery, threats of lawsuits, references to his awards and honors.

Then, he taped the interview with Wallace, where he claimed to be completely unaware of Andy Pettitte's HGH situation. As many folks have pointed out, Pettitte is the definition of a follower; he might well be described as a Clemens discipline. It runs counter to everything we know about the longtime teammates' relationship to think the pathetically devout Pettitte would have used any type of PED without the tacit or explicit approval of his buddy.

Clemens also made points with no connection to the world that you, I, and Angel Pagan live in. "If he's doing that to me, I should have a third ear coming out of my forehead," he argued, regarding the alleged steroid injections. "I should be pulling tractors with my teeth." Which would be plausible, except for the fact that dozens of current and former players have admitted to taking 'roids, and it's taken for granted that none of them have any extra appendages, organs, or membranes to speak of. Certainly, we haven't caught Guillermo Mota roping steers with his jaw (yet). I mean, what on Earth is the Rocket talking about? Even the most strident denouncers of the juice aren't clamining its side effects are comparable with those of, say, The Ooze.

Let's also recall the sliming of McNamee, who was of course under tremendous pressure by the government agents (tossing around the threat of jail, that is) to tell only the truth. In the "60 Minutes" piece, Wallace tossed up a softball to the Rocket along the lines of, "Why do you think [McNamee] would tell the investigators what he did?" Clemens responded with indignation. "To stay out of jail!" was basically his response.

This, needless to say, only makes sense if you think the government had it out for Clemens, and wanted to compel McNamee's testimony in that regard. There's no evidence of this, and indeed as McNamee was already naming plenty of notable names and scads of Yankees, there can't have been an issue as to volume. As to personal motivation, we need only listen to the taped telephone conversation between the two to hear how the outing personally affected McNamee. The voice is that of a sorrowful, apologetic, almost syncophantic man.

The voice of a liar? Literally nothing would lead you to such a conclusion.

Meaning, of course, Clemens' leaking of the tape wound up being a total backfire, as McNamee clearly never admits to saying anything false and Clemens' insinuations to the contrary rang hollow. It was also a complete backstab, which never goes over well.

Probably most damaging, in the end, was his admissions to B-12 and lidocaine injections, followed by his cavalier disclosure that he "was eating Vioxx like it was Skittles." First of all, what? Not even Brett Favre would be down with that. Second of all, you might have saved some money by going generic. But most importantly, you simply can't concede all those points -- essentially, that you're addicted to non-criminal performance enhancers and painkillers -- and then pretend it's a Stretch Armstrong for someone to think you might have taken an illegal PED. People can read between the lines just fine. People can sense context. The context of a painkiller junkie getting on his high horse about drugs is known most commonly as "horseshit."

Which feeds back into Point 1. No one has ever come out and said "I injected Mark McGwire with steroids" (well, unless you count Jose Canseco as a human, and few of us do), but look at him polling under 25 percent in the recent HOF vote. Sammy Sosa was on the Grimsley Affadavit, but even before, with his 600 home runs and zero positive drug scans, nobody thinks he's got a shot at the Hall any time soon. Why? They assume he's guilty. Q.E.D.

Leaving us ... where? With a likely retirement, and a Hall of Fame environment positively poisonous for those suspected of PED use, and an increasingly hostile fan environment. Rocket Fuel t-shirt sales down? Only the beginning. Say goodbye to them T-Mobile ads and MLB.com promos and cutsey little appearances at Koby Clemens' minor-league games. I'm thinking Bonds-level boos, Palmeiro-style derision, Sosa-level irrelevance. Arguably the greatest pitcher of all time, certainly the best since Walter Johnson was on the hill, and he's going to end up more Ben Johson than Carl Lewis. It would be sad if he weren't so despicable. Quite a hypothetical, I know.

It would of course be a stretch to say I'm upset at any of this. Some people just have it coming, and Roger Clemens had it coming more than most.

Change!

John Edwards is talking about it.

Ditto Hillary Clinton.

Barack Obama? You know he's never shy with the C-word.

Change. If you've watched a minute of presidential coverage this past week, chances are you've heard a thing or two about change. If you haven't -- here's a quick crib sheet:



You get all that? I counted it up... 19 uses of the word "change" in 2 minutes and 49 seconds. 20 if you count one that Hill only half spoke because Charlie Gibson cut her off. So yeah, change, it's not just in your pocket.

Anyway, don't worry, Sip -- I'm not going to bore them with thoughts on the presidential primaries. There'll be plenty of time for that after the 2008 season ends in bitter disappointment.

Just the same, I've got change on the brain something serious. It started with the presidential coverage, and it continued yesterday, shortly after the Brother Eli had led the New York football Giants to a convincing victory over the Tamba Bay Bucs, when I switched on over to SNY for an UltiMet Classic.

They were showing a game from early April 2007, a barn burner between the Mets and the lowly Colorado Rockies.

It got me thinking of a little idea we had in the early days of the 2006 season. It's cute. Back in those days we thought the Mets were "looking at a dogfight for the National League East crown or, failing that, the Wild Card spot."

So we developed an idea that we would keep track of all the games the Mets played with an eye towards whether we won/lost games we "should" have lost/won. At the end of the season, we'd look at the final result and, I don't know, gain a little perspective on baseball, or something.

"At the end of the season, the games we piss away or undeservedly win figure to loom especially large" is how we put it then.

The idea was right, the season was wrong.

As I watched an inning or two of the UltiMet Classic yesterday, I kept thinking about all the other games from 2007 they weren't showing as "UltiMet Classics", like all 74 losses that doomed our season, any 1 of which would have meant, at least, a one-game playoff in Philadelphia.

Change any one of those losses around who knows? Maybe our season doesn't end in disaster. Maybe we don't enter this offseason with this overwhelming sense of foreboding hanging over our heads. Who knows, maybe it's not the lowly Colorado Rockies who represent the National League in the World Series?

Normally I try not to think about the 2007 season too much. Maybe that's the way to go.

- A.F.O.M.G.

The Best of the Worst

So, Cheddar was in the local Chinese laundromat last Sunday afternoon, working on a couple months' worth of dirty clothes. It was Code Red on a lot of classes of garments, to be sure. One of the heavier bags I've ever carried, my quarters were getting taxed like the Jersey Turnpike, I was getting dizzy from looking at the dryers ... not really a proud moment.

In any case, I'm minding my own b-i, folding some underwear, when all of a sudden, onto the fuzzy T.V. set tucked into the corner of the room comes an old movie. Eager to take a break from the drudgery, I pop my head up to take a gander.

It was the old Jean-Claude Van Damme joint, "Timecop."

Now, the intent of this post is to get some feedback from you, the Y2K readers. Maybe you've seen "Timecop," maybe you haven't. For our purposes, it doesn't really matter. The salient point is that "Timecop" is an absolutely awful movie. Just terrible. Sample line from a conversation between Jean-Claude and his wife (played by Ferris' Bueller's girlfriend):

Mia Sara: Will the TEO be dangerous?
Jean-Claude: I don't bake cookies for a living.

So, yeah. But at the same time, the opening scene to the movie is actually pretty cool -- it contains the germ of an idea that could have, in other hands, turned into something. In other words, some kind of rose grew out of the manure field that was the motion picture as a whole. More on that scene later.

Maybe this is an idea that nobody else finds interesting, but it's been eating at me for a couple of days. Can you think of good scenes in bad movies? Scenes that were completely out of character for the rest of the piece, of such different quality that you remember them fondly? I don't necessarily mean scenes from "good" bad movies like "Face/Off" or "Sorority Boys," movies that reveled in their awfulness; I'm looking for quality from crap, something that threw you off it was so out of place.

Again, a little esoteric, and maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree entirely. Maybe the presence of any scene good enough to impress is sufficient to drive that film out of the "awful" range entirely, which would make this exercise quite the fool's errand. But I've got something in mind, and I'm interested to see what people think about this.

Timecop

Now, Jean-Claude is one of the modern masters of the "good" bad movie, and there are enough cool scenes from intentionally cheesy stuff like "Sudden Death" or "Hard Target" to fill this list many times over. But "Timecop" was just a disaster all around -- overwrought, awful acting, a complete waste of the halfway decent time-travel premise.

And indeed, the opening scene promised more. A group of Confederate soldiers carrying a wagon train full of gold encounter a shrouded stranger on the road. He greets them, and asks for their treasure. They laugh, inform him that they outnumber him completely, and he quietly gives them several chances to surrender. Finally, as a tense confrontation comes to a head, they pull their Winchesters (or whatever); the stranger whips out a pair of automatic guns with laser sights and proceeds to blow the shit out of the entire party.

That's a highly solid scene. It plays on the classic, Western-style showdown, tweaking it with dramatic irony and futuristic weaponry. It might not be genius, but it's Bill Shakespeare compared to everything else that follows. And these type of outlier scenes are tougher to come by than you think.

Now, it's possible to cheat and propose something, like, say, Halle Berry's nude scene from "Swordfish." Which was, unquestionably, of higher quality than the movie as a whole (god-awful, and not knowingly). In fact, that scene was so much better than the rest of the movie that Jackman and Travolta openly pimped the shot of Halle's chest during junket interviews, in magazines, at the MTV Movie Awards, etc ... It was intended to be different, and it was. That's not really cricket.

There have been bad prison movies with pretty decent escape scenes -- I'm thinking of Sly in "Lock Up" or Christopher Lambert in the utterly creepy (in the molester sense) "Fortress." Then again, it's tough to make a truly bad escape scene. In an entirely different vein, you might argue snorers like "Solaris" or "Meet Joe Black" have scenes that stand out from the general tedium (the opening scene in the latter film, for example, suggests a sense of humor that never again manifests itself ... plus, any scene where Brad Pitt is bounced off the front of the bus deserves some type of recognition).

Look, it's the off-season. The Mets haven't done squat in a while, the Knicks are too depressing for words (Isiah's thinking championships and legacies ... I'm thinking of paging the asylum), Johan Santana is still chilling somewhere in Venezuela, I wouldn't stoop to write about the Giants even if they hadn't embarrassed my Bills a couple weeks back, and unless you want to hear my thoughts about the big NYU-Buffalo State men's basketball game this Saturday (get your tickets now!), sports aren't much in season at the moment. Man U lost to West Ham again. There. Hope you're happy. Next week, after I catch Clemens on "60 Minutes," there'll be more relevant material forthcoming.

In the meantime, this good-scene-bad-movie thing has been eating away at my brain tissue for the better part of a week now. On the off chance someone else in the Y2K family has caught the same disease, I'm putting the question to you.

Anyone able to help a brother out? Leave your own suggestions/observations/idle obsessions in the comments.

UPDATE: Apropos of A.F.O.M.G.'s post from Monday, Mia Sara (the actress who played Ferris Bueller's girlfriend and Jean-Claude's wife in "Timecop," including a genuinely hot sex scene) turns out to be a native of Brooklyn Heights. That's what I'm talking about.

Sip's Rocking Eve

It's crap.

Mischa Barton gets paid $30,000 to host some new years eve party in Vegas. Meanwhile, I, Sippy Momo, one of People Magazine's 50 Sexiest Bloggers, only got a bottle of Andre and a few slices of pizza to attend my New Year's Shindig. I don't get it. I didn't have a better year than Mischa F'ing Barton? Salt.

I'm really struggling right now. I'm working on about 3 hours of keg induced slumber while desperately trying to keep my eyes open to both share my gospel with you guys and watch my beloved Georgia Bulldogs throw what appears to be a pretty decent hurtin' to Colt Brennan and co. (Up 24:3 with 11:51 as I write).

New Year's. Here's what it means to me.

It means $150 open bar parties that I don't want to attend that contribute to a great amount of stress trying to figure out a legitimate plan.

It means Puff Daddy telling us how he is going to preserve his sexy or what vodka we should drink. Sadly, the man has pull in this country.

It's an excuse to call some family members that you genuinely want to speak with.

It's an even better excuse to wish a good year to that certain lady friend that you hope will make your new year a little happier. "He's so sweet." Did I mention I love puppies?

It's a night that you want to get through without anything really bad happening.

And it's a day where you talk to buddies that you didn't hang out with on New Year's Eve about how New Year's Eve was surprise, surprise...Not that exciting.

It's a day for college football. If you love college football, which I have really grown to over the last bunch of years, then your entire day is set. You have your tv and your couch and you are just golden.

It's a day for very crappy news coverage. All the newspapers pretty much mail it in on New Year's. Even Joel Sherman needs to hit the bottle every once in a while.

But most importantly New Year's is a time to reflect and start fresh. We look back at the year that was and look forward to the year that will be.

And finally New Year's is a time to be thankful.

We are thankful that Isiah Thomas remains the coach/president of the Knicks.

We are thankful that The Mets, coming off a gynormous letdown, have had a bad offseason and have gone from NL favorite to potential 3rd best team in division.

We are thankful that apparently the Rangers still have a team, with uniforms and everything.

And most importantly, we are thankful that we got to bring in the New Year with Carson Daly and a Yankee hat donning Alex Rodriguez.

Gosh now, wait a minute. From a Y2K standpoint, it appears that we have zero to be thankful for. So I guess I'll just be thankful for myself. My New Year's resolution is to become the Floyd Mayweather Jr. of bloggers. You'll either love me or you'll love to hate me. But either way, you'll know I'm pretty.

Happy New Year All.

Vaya,
Sip