What Might Have Been

I've been pretty zen with the way the Mets' season ended. Almost as soon as it was over, I was able to accept that we had not made the playoffs.

Part of it was that I did not believe that we were good enough to win the World Series. Part of it was that the way this season ended didn't seem as mistaken as the way 2006 ended, or as incomprehensible as the way 2007 ended.

We had our flaws, a very bad bullpen chief among them, and in the final weeks of the 2008 season, we couldn't hide from them any longer.

Tonight as I watch the White Sox-Twins one-game playoff, it's impossible not to think of what might have been, and how exciting a one-game playoff with the Brewers would have been.

I don't know who was scheduled to go for the Brewers, but Pedro was scheduled to pitch for us so chances are the score wouldn't have been 1-0 in the bottom of the 8th. Either way, it would have been damn exciting. And as I sit here now, it's impossible not to think of what might have been.

* * * * *

Note to everyone who wants Wright, Reyes, or Beltran traded: you're insane.

I'm open to the idea of this team needing a shake-up. I'm open to letting Carlos Delgado go, ditto Oliver Perez, Pedro, etc. But Wright, Reyes, and Beltran are not the problem, they're part of the solution.

There will be (plenty of) time to talk about specific players we want the Mets to pursue or part ways with, but let's start with the basics and go from there.

- A.F.O.M.G.

And Then, Nothing

I'm sure a lot of people out there are upset right now, but when you look back at the 2008 season, ask yourself one question.

In your heart of hearts, did you really feel this was the year?

* * * * *

Last year I was devastated. But to use a loaded turn of phrase from Mets history, this year I'm not devastated, I'm disappointed.

In the coming days a lot of people are going to brand the Mets chokers or say that they collapsed again. Neither description is fair.

This was a good but flawed team. With a bullpen it might have been a juggernaut, but we didn't have a bullpen.

We had a team that many of us left for dead somewhere in July, but they fought tooth and nail and gave us a season when it looked like none would be possible.

So unlike last year, this is not a team that caved. They were a team that went about as far as could reasonably be expected. They were also a team that started poorly and found itself; last year's team, gosh, I don't know where to begin.

* * * * *

Am I satisfied with how this season ended? Of course not. The goal is to make the playoffs, and for a second straight year, we fell short of that goal in spite of a massive payroll. It's tremendously disappointing, but last year when we lost it felt like the whole organization had collapsed upon itself.

Willie Randolph looked hapless. Tom Glavine was clearly gone. Carlos Delgado had been a non-factor for months. The farm system seemed depleted.

This year, Jerry Manuel established himself as a talented manager, and I'm excited to see what he can do in an entire season.

Johan Santana was a joy to watch, a master of pitching who, for a fan like me who was too young to remember Doc in his prime, is the greatest pitcher I've ever seen toe the rubber for the Mets.

Delgado reemerged to become an MVP candidate.

Daniel Murphy looks like the kind of gamer that Mets fans have been waiting for since Lenny Dykstra was sent away, and Mike Pelfrey finally made the jump and looks like he could be a premier pitcher in the National League.

In short, there is more to be hopeful for today than there was at the end of last season.

* * * * *

I wish I'd devoted more of this post to Shea. I'll write about it in greater detail another time (it's a long offseason, people), but I will say the following about it.

Shea Stadium is where I fell in love with baseball, and it's where I went as a little boy with my dad and my brother and fell in love with the Mets. And while I realize it wasn't a very charming facility, it is for me a place of great sentimental value.

It's too bad the old stadium had to go out with a loss, but nothing that happened today, last year, or any of the other disappointing years could ever change what we loved about going to games there.

The team on the field, the fans around you, a Mets cap on your head, and a smile on your face. That was Shea. And I'll miss it.

Someday when there's a little A.F.O.M.G. Jr. pottering around I'll tell him about Shea. And in the parking lot of Citi Field I'll take him to where the bases used to be and I'll say, "Son, they used to play baseball here."

- A.F.O.M.G.

Every Night

Every day it's the same.

I bury my head in work and then 6:00 p.m. comes and the butterflies set in, and they flutter around until 7:10 comes and I know the Mets are on again.

Most days I'm not home until 8:30 or 9:00, so the first few innings pass with the game recording on DVR, and every night the same set of fears set in.

For that last hour I'm at work while the game is young and I'm avoiding it, it's the fear that that box will pop up in the right hand corner of my screen with an e-mail from a distraught fan on my Mets list serve bemoaning the latest woeful turn for Team Tightrope (god knows something good never prompts an e-mail, no one would risk being the jackass who jinxed it).

For the 20 minutes from the office to Brooklyn (what!) it's the fear that I didn't record the game. Or that I recorded it but kept the television on 726, so that when I get home and first turn on the television to hit play on the game, I'll sneak a peak at the current score and have all the drama spoiled for me.

And then we're on and the Mets are playing the ball and it's the fear that the pitcher will let up a first inning run and we'll have to fight from behind all night. And then we've got a lead and it's the fear that the bullpen will blow it. And then we've got runners on 2nd and 3rd with no one out and it's the fear that we won't score any runs.

And then it's the fear that for all the Mets can do the calendar marches day by day to September 28, the final day of the season.

And that brings us to tonight, and a 7-6 win. And a dead heat in the wild card with 3 to play, and 1 game back of the Phillies with 3 to play. And the same fears will be there this last weekend, but lurking in the background this final weekend of the regular season is a new one, the worst of all. The fear that come Monday, this could all be over.

* * * * *

For all the talk about a collapse, after tonight's gutsy, rain-soaked victory you can say this about the 2008 Mets. Win, lose, or draw, through 159 games, they haven't gone down without a fight.

They've looked lost on more than a few occassions. They've looked punchless at times on offense and helpless at others in the bullpen.

But as the Hound is fond of saying, this is a team that somehow manages to absorb a "Worst. Loss. Ever." every other week and come out again the next day and somehow show enough mettle to stay in the thick off things.

And as much as each bullpen blowup weighs on us or each wasted opportunity frustrates us, we as fans should appreciate that.

* * * * *

This weekend will be about rain and baseball, hopefully more of the latter than the former.

In my living room hutch sits a bottle of Pol Roger champagne, bought the morning of September 30, 2007.

We woke that day with hopes of a division title, and finished it stunned by the completion of our collapse.

I vowed then that I would keep that bottle of champagne and drink it only the day the Mets won the NL East, whenever that day should come.

Who knows if that will come to pass this weekend, but I've decided this much: if at any point this weekend we're tied for the division lead, the bottle of champagne will go to my refrigerator in the hope that Sunday I'll have reason to drink it down.

No matter what, this team has given you everything you could ask for as a baseball fan. Drama day in and day out, every night promising elation, and every night teetering on the brink of devastation.

It's been a hell of a run, as wild a season as I can ever recall. More than anything, I just want it to keep going.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Stampede

Refraining, for a moment, from commenting on the Mets' playoff chances, because I'm in law school and can't afford to wantonly pour my emotional energy into the black hole that is the 2008 season, here's a top-10 list of good things about the team's decision to choose my hometown Buffalo Bisons as their new Triple-A affiliate:

1) The Mets land a winner

The New Orleans Zephyrs were run by good enough folks, I suppose, but the Bisons are a first-class operation, through and through. They're owned by Robert Rich, a blue-collar industrialist, giving them their own stable financial foundation, and the team is staffed by independent professionals who've done this for years. It's the same core that was around when the team was an expansion contender back in 1993.

In other words, the Mets have a partner, not a lackey. In a similar vein ...

2) The Bisons have real fans ...

Back in the heady days of near-expansion, when Buffalo's downtown stadium was new and the envy of the entire minor leagues, not to mention several major league clubs, the Bisons set attendance records like they were going out of style. The first minor league team to break the million mark? Buffalo in 1988 and 1989 (1.1 million). The next year, they broke the million barrier again, drawing more fans than the Braves, Indians and Astros. Of the top 10 minor league attendance figures in history, the Bisons own eight.

There haven't been as many fans coming in recent years, as the city has continued to hemorrhage population and the novelty of the park has worn off, but the team was still No. 5 in the minors in attendance in 2007, second in the International League to only Louisville and their brand-spanking-new field. New Orleans was down there at No. 53, and they were never much higher. Norfolk sits at No. 26.

If there's a product on the field, the Bisons' fans will come.

3) ... and a real park

Now known as Dunn Tire Park, sited on a subway line in the center of the city, the Bisons' digs hold 19,500 paying citizens. The field's dimensions are a good fit for the new CitiField -- 325 down the lines and 404 to center. There's a screen up in left field, which will simulate the Mets' righty-punishing gaps.

4) This would be the park that hosts an annual chicken wing festival

Seriously, do you know of another minor league team that hosts the premier wing festival in the world? Let me make this simple -- you don't. You really don't. If you were ever wondering where Mo Vaughn went, well, he's here.

5) Buffalo is close to Queens

Closer than fucking Louisiana, anyways. It was weird enough that the team enjoying shuttling its players back and forth to Virginia for all those years. I live in Virginia, and believe you me, this place is nothing like New York. You don't even realize the Big Apple is on the map when you're down here. All you can think about is grits and burgesses and Robert E. Lee and so forth. Baseball -- especially frenetic, neurotic New York Mets-style baseball -- just isn't a consideration.

And New Orleans? With all due respect to the Metsies, the people of New Orleans had and have more important things to worry about than a baseball team located on the far side of the country. The Zephyrs ranked pretty low on the priority list, and rightly so. You can care about turning the double play, or you can care about the levees. Very often, you're not going to be able to care about both.

Buffalo, meanwhile, is a quick JetBlue hop out of JFK -- 45 minutes in the air. You're on the ground before you can say "Cleon Jones." Which reminds me ...

6) Cleon Jones used to play here

Did you know this shit? Neither did I. Apparently:

This will actually be the second time the Bisons have affiliated with the Mets. Buffalo was New York’s Triple- A team from 1963-65 at a time when the Mets franchise was in its infancy. Famous Mets legends like Cleon Jones, Ed Kranepool, Ron Swoboda and “Marvelous Marv” Throneberry were on those Buffalo teams.

I'll be snookered. Of course, back then, the team played at the ol' Rockpile, across the street from Cheddar Ben's high school, where "The Natural" was filmed. But that's a whole different story.

7) Buffalo sure knows how to make a girl feel welcome

Par-tay!

The Mets logo was on the Bisons Big Board in center field for cars to see as they drove down Oak Street. “Welcome NY Mets” read the line score and the theme song “Meet the Mets” was playing over the stadium loudspeakers.

Mr. Met, the team’s longtime baseball head logo, greeted officials as they headed into the stadium restaurant. On hand was was easily the biggest collection of baseball and political figures in the ballpark’s history.

Gov. David A. Paterson, County Executive Chris Collins and Mayor Byron Brown were on hand to greet the Mets, as were Erie County Legislature Chairwoman Lynn Marinelli and State Senator William Stachowski. So were Buffalo Sabres minority partner Larry Quinn and University at Buffalo Athletics Director Warde Manuel.

If the gov shows up, you know it's a big deal.

8) The Mets show some class ...

... by donating $25,000 to the Buffalo schools' high school baseball league. That's pretty sweet of them.

“I thought it was extraordinary that the first thing they did when they got to town was donate $25,000 for inner city baseball — it looks like they mean to stay for a while,” said Dave Thomas, athletics director for the Buffalo Public Schools. “I think it’s terrific, and we will put it to good use.”

Respect.

(Funny side note: I once got in a shoving match with Dave Thomas. The full story is unprintable, unfortunately, but let's just say the old coot got what was coming to him.)

9) Fanbase expansion

The cable systems in Western New York already run SNY. They also run YES. They also throw together regional broadcasts of Indians games, which makes sense given that they were the Bisons' previous major-league parent club. The closest major league franchise, of course, is located in Toronto, not more than two hours away. Closer than New York still is Pittsburgh, and even in their current anemic state the Pirates retain some holdover support from their days as the Bisons' parent club. The waters run deep, my friends.

Put another way, Western New York is a baseball toss-up territory, with no big-league club holding a monopoly on the populace's loyalty. The Mets are making a logical move into Buffalo, then, in staking a claim in a market where there's a claim to be made. Why not try to set yourself up as upstate's team, given that there's no natural reason for the Yankees to be supported other than inertia or idle preference?

10) Character

Forget all the other stuff. Yeah, the Bisons are a real business, with real-live support, and yeah, it makes strategic sense for the Mets to get their toehold into a new market, especially one that's pretty convenient to the airport. All that is good.

But beyond that, the Bisons have something most minor-league teams don't -- they've got history. They've got personality. They've got spirit. They've got heart, damn it.

This stuff goes back to the 1880s, when the Bisons were briefly in the National League and had superstars like Pud Galvin and HOFer Dan Brouthers on the payroll. They got into the upstart Federal League during World War I, led by the scumbag-in-chief Hal Chase. Reconstituted during the '70s, they quickly developed new traditions and legacies of their own.

The Bisons, ladies and gentlemen, aren't just your average bear. They're something more, and while that may or may not translate into more wins for the Mets, it amounts to a richer and more fulfilling overarching fan experience.

Well done.

Free At Last

I've waited my entire post-pubescant life for this day and finally it has arrived.

The Yankees have clinched an October on the couch.

Lost in this scramble for a bullpen is the beauty of the Yankee demise.

Joe Torre and George Steinbrenner look like heroes.

And Alex Rodriguez and Hank Steinbrenner are the faces of a decline. They are the Yankees Sub-prime mortgage, the duo that took a dynasty and a history and rendered it obsolete.

There is no champagne to pop, but there are some very clear thoughts.

Enjoy the day, team.

Yankees2000- Promote the Curse.

Vaya,
Sip

Bottoming Out

It's finally dawned on me. The Mets really might not make it to October.

Somehow I'd remained confident. Somehow, blown save after blown save, I'd looked at the bright side.

Monday night I cracked. Between another win by the inspired Phillies and another loss by the listless Mets, it feels now like it's all crashing down.

* * * * *

As I write this, Gary, Keith & Ron have picked up the conversation. They're making good points. We still control our own destiny. We're still right in the thick of it for the division.

On an objective level it's all true, but somehow it means nothing to me.

I know we're still up a game in the Wild Card. I know the Brewers are the ones having the truly dreadful September. And I know (because all Mets fans know) that things can change quickly in September.

Right now though it all rings hollow. We've lost 3 straight, 6 of 9. It's just not good enough. If there's something to be confident about with this team, well, what is it?

We've left the door open to the Brewers at just the same time that the Phillies are closing the door on us. It's all so... depressing.

* * * * *

If there's one thing to be confident about with the Mets, it's Johan Santana, who goes tonight in what sure feels like a must-win game. Johan has two more starts and we need to win them both. If we don't, it's hard to imagine this ending well.

But through all the negative vibes, I'll give this to the guys in the booth, they're right when they say the Mets still have the chance to do something really special.

Right now, to me, it's hard to see how they would make that happen. The Mets are playing too poorly and the Phillies too well. But if somehow they can come back from 2.5 back of the Phillies with 6 to play (5 for them), it would be a really special thing for this franchise.

There's always hope.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Final Countdown

Normally when the Mets lose a game like they did on Sunday I feel compelled to write about it immediately. I have to get it off my chest.

No doubt it about, this was a terrible loss today. The bullpen will hear about it in the papers, but really this was a collective loss. The Mets had first and second and no one out two innings in a row and couldn't push home a run. Can't pin that on the bullpen.

So here we are. 1.5 up in the wild card, 1.5 down in the division.

Jon Niese takes the ball against Chicago tomorrow in what must be the biggest start of his life. Niese has looked awful and brilliant, so it's impossible to know what to expect. Hopefully the Cubs will still be in some sort of post-clinching haze, but even if they are who knows what'll happen.

Uncertainty rules the day, but for once, I'm trying to think positive. Or really, I'm trying to keep it all in perspective. As bad as this loss was today, we're still two losses up in the wild card, and only one loss down in the division. 7 left to play for us, 6 left to play for Philly and Milwaukee. By the end of tomorrow, we could be tied in the loss column with the Phillies.

The Brewers have three gimme games with Pittsburgh before closing out their season with the Cubs. The Phils have three with the Braves and then three with the Nats.

Things won't be so easy for our Metsies, who have four with the Cubs before closing with three against the Marlins. But you know what, fuck it all. We play our best ball against the tough teams, and we play our best ball at home.

All we control is what happens with us. We don't control the schedule, and we don't control what happens with the Phillies or the Brewers. If we play good ball, we'll make it to October. That's all there is to it.

As a general proposition, the offense is clicking right now. So put your faith in that, and in Johan, Ollie, and Pelfrey. And for tonight at least, Jon Niese, too.

* * * * *

As I write this, Mariano Rivera is in to close it for the Yanks. In a moment, surely, it will all be over, and Yankee Stadium will never host another ball game.

Without being sentimental about it, I have to say I have no idea why they're doing it.

It makes me think back on Agard, the glorious dorm where I lived my sophomore year of college. Agard was old and creaky (anyone ever play Resident Evil? Think of one of the mansions those games were set in) and amazing. You could feel its age, you could feel its history.

The year after I graduated they got it in their heads that Agard needed an upgrade. So they renovated it and now everthing's new and shiny.

The old library filled with stately couches and dusty old tomes is gone, replaced by a shiny kitchen with modern appliances. A gorgeous flat screen now hangs prominently in the stately old living room, sucking the life out of a room where formerly there was nothing but a fireplace and couches and your friends to busy yourself with. The only thing missing is a circular table in the design of a yin-yang.

These things are improvements, but the soul of the building is gone, built over and left behind. I'm sure the students who live there now love it, and I'm sure they'd never want to occupy the rickety old building I once lived in. But me, I'd take age and history over sleak and modern any day.

And so it'll be with the new Yankee Stadium. It'll be shiny and nice and have great seating, and no doubt they'll trot out Yogi Berra and Reggie Jackson and all the others. But it'll never be the same place. It'll never be the place where Babe Ruth once played. As much as I hate the Yankees, I always respected that part of going to games at Yankee Stadium.

And now it's over. And for us Yankee haters who respected that small part of Yankee history, going to games at Yankee Stadium will never be the same.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Something to Smile About

Calm yourselves you angry fans of the Orange & Blue.

Next year is now and we have already gotten our two Carloses for the price of one.

We can sit here and whine about the Mets and their recent clunker with the Nats, how the Mets are chokes etc, etc, etc.

Or we can talk about something that makes us happy. Something that is truly historical and comedic and just all together why I was here in the first place.

Lets talk about the 4th place Yankees.

Tragic Number: 2

I wish I was 18 again. I'd be getting arrested for public drunkenness celebrating the misery of my enemy. Instead, here I am today, a tired 26 year-old who can just sit back and smile.

This team has caused me so much suffering over the years I can't even put it into words. I watched Bernie Williams ruin my World Series hopes in 2000 from Section 3, Row T of the Upper Deck. I don't think I spoke for days after that.

4 rings, millions of new, annoying, obnoxious fans and worst of all, the corruption of the city that I call home.

I blame Sex and The City and the Yankees for turning New York into what it has become. She's still my baby, but I very much subscribe to the old Team Facelift adage, New York is Dead.


So while there is no champagne on ice, there is a bit of satisfaction. Seeing fans who don't deserve to win unable to understand the concept of losing.

For Yankee fans, the playoffs were a given.

That's not baseball and that's not right.

While I don't enjoy their misery like I once would have, I appreciate the city being grounded.

Winning brings along new fans, losing makes the real ones stronger.

For thirteen years this city has been flooded with new Corporankee fans, talking A-Rod and Clemens.

Hopefully in the coming days, there will be a little bit of peace and quiet.

Vaya,
Sip

(Pic courtesy of nedgallagher.com)

Scratch That

Tonight it looked like it was happening again. The tack on runs we allowed. The suddenly unhittable John Lannan. All against the backdrop of a surging Phillies team.


Win, lose, or draw, what an unbearable (but nonetheless exciting) 13 games this is going to be. It starts tomorrow with the Pelf Man making a huge start for the Metsies. With Brandon Knight going on Wednesday, we need this one.

Man alive, this guy had it right.

Hold on to your fucking hats.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Here We Go Again?

I am Jack's creeping sense of dread. I see myself in every loss by the Mets and every win by the Phillies in the final 17 games. I frustrate and infuriate Jack.

* * * * *

It's not that the Mets lost 2 games this weekend, and it's not that the Phillies won three games, it's how both of those things happened.

Blown leads for the Mets, late comebacks for the Phils. Ad nauseam, ad nauseam, ad nauseam. I don't care to recap it all here; either you saw it or you can read about it some place else.

In terms of positives, the Mets are still up 2 in the loss column on the Phils, and on Monday we start a 4-game series with the lowly, but nonethelss thugged out, Washington Nationals. It's an opportunity to beat up on a bottom feeder. To use the parlance of another post, it would be very "ain't 2007" of us to go down there and take care of business. Hopefully Elijah Dukes won't kill anybody.

The other positive I hate to mention but I've got to. Right now, the Mets have a better record than the Wild Card co-leaders, the Phillies and the Brewers. The Wild Card is very much in play for both the Mets and the Phillies.

I really do hate the idea of us not winning the division after all we've been through, and in my bones I feel that we will pull this thing out, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't take some comfort knowing it's not necessarily a win or go home situation.

(Side note: a Mets-Phillies NLCS would be awesome.)

The greatest positive is that David Wright is back. The offense blew plenty of opportunities this wekeend, but if the 4 big guys are producing, that will serve us well in the next two weeks.

But back to the titular question. Is it "Here we go again?" I can't say; no one can. The Mets can only answer it on the field, and that's where they'll be tonight.

They need to stop the bleeding. Pedro's going, which is no relief, but at least he's up against a bad team.

148 games down, 14 to go. Let's get after it.

* * * * *

It's Sunday evening as I write this, and in some sense it feels strange writing about baseball on a day like this.

I've worked in finance since graduating from college a little over three years now. Fortunately I don't work at Lehman or Merrill, nor do I know anybody at either firm (at least that I can think of), but I read just now that some 25,000 people work at Lehman and another 60,000 at Merrill.

Some will keep their jobs, but not a majority I can't imagine. A lot of people who worked hard all their lives just had it blow up in their face, and that's a terrible thing.

Just another unwelcome reminder that these really are transformative times we're living through now.

- A.F.O.M.G.

The Best Seat in the House

It's not Billy Wagner's last pitch as a Met that keeps me up all night.

It's not a potentially playoff-less Yankees- something I have dreamed of for my entire pubescent career- that has me going back and forth.

No, its something so simple yet so complicated.

It's a couple of chairs.

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


Those who know me know I love to sit.

I am a sitting machine. Some people were born to shop. Some people were born to hit a baseball out of fenway. Some, like Sip, can just sit.

As a wee-lad it was a black spinning chair in front of my television that caught my eye.

Then, it was a step in my living room that became my home for ballgames and dinners.

A black futon with a flannel sheet on it served my bottom well for much of my high school days.

Then, a red velvet chair that I bought for like 45 pesos in west philadelphia got me thru much of college and my years after.

Sitting...So simple, yet so important.


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


But my favorite seat of my life has always been that uncomfortable red chair from the upper deck of Shea Stadium.

It was the only chair that I never replaced or moved on from.

It was where I sat and was truly happy. Friendships developed, Families bonded and experiences were had on those ugly red chairs.

Rey Rey's throw from his knees; Kevin Mcreynolds grand slam home run; Robin's grand slam single; the 10 run 8th; Game 5 of the World Series.

Some of the best and worst moments of my life happened in those seats.

And now they are up for sale.


2 chairs, $869.

Thats a lot of Michelobs.

It's a funny thing this internal debate of mine.

I don't know if I can see myself living in a world where I had the opportunity to buy a seat from Shea and didn't.

Yet, I find myself with 869 reasons not to make the purchase.

Ahhh, to be a blogger.

I thought about starting a Sippy Momo Shea Stadium Seat Foundation, but then I realized, I have money, people should use theres for something more important.

So now I just wait in indecisiveness.

In the end I'll probably make the play.

But until that time comes, there is no grindstone to keep my ear to.

Vaya,
sip

(pic courtesy of nytimes.com)

'This Ain't 2007'

I'll be honest, I don't really get into the signs fans bring to the game. They tend to be derivative and unimaginative, and I regard the people who wield them, generally, to be a little desperate for attention.

In my memory there is one sign that I remember finding very clever. It was Game 1 of the NLDS; the Mets had lost Pedro Martinez to a season-ending injury a week or two earlier, El Duque had come up lame 24 hours before the first pitch of the playoffs. The sky was falling at exactly the wrong time.

Amid all the ominous uncertainty, one bold fan hoisted a sign that said simply: Pitching Smitching. It was all that needed to be said. Nothing ever came easy with this team, so fuck it, I thought, and I laughed. Somehow it seemed a perfect response to the abiding tension; it was a line I came back to throughout those playoffs.

Tonight I saw another smartly-conceived and well-executed sign, this one three lines long. It read:

"This isn't Tommy ---> (picture of Johan)
(Picture of Jerry Manuel) <--- And this isn't Willie
This ain't 2007"

The words, the pictures, the tension... genius.

* * * * *

Johan Santana was everything we needed him to be tonight. This was a team win, through and through, but the team benefited from Johan's presence in a way that was impossible last year. Last year we didn't have that starting pitcher that could make the team believe in itself again.

Tonight the Mets played like they believed in themselves, even after Johan faltered in that first inning. With another pitcher on the mound it would have been a sinking "... here we go again" kind of feeling, but not with Santana out there. With Santana out there, well, this ain't 2007.

* * * * *

It's 12:43am as I write this, time for bed before what promises to be a long week at work. There's 19 games left; the Phils move on to play the Marlins, while the Mets' next two are against the Nats.

It would be very "ain't 2007" of us to win tomorrow and then win again on Wednesday. Here's hoping.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Ghosts of Septembers Past, Present & Future

All season long this series loomed on the schedule like the Ghost of Septembers Past, a bleak, discouraging reminder of all that came undone last fall.

There was no telling where we or the Phillies would be in the standings come September 5, no guaranteeing it would even be relevant to a pennant chase. But as we looked at the schedule, I think we all hoped it would come to this, Mets-Phillies, 1-2 in a tight race in the NL East.

I think we all hoped for a chance at a redemption.

* * * * *

To Mets fans of a certain vintage, the series starting tonight is the one we've been waiting for our whole baseball-loving lives.

For the last 22 years, the Mets have knocked on the door without ever bursting through. In all those years and through all the rivalries, not once have we managed to best our adversaries in a truly meaningful way.

We never beat the Braves.

We lost to the Yankees in 5.

And last year, we let it slip away against the upstart "team to beat".

For much of this season it appeared we wouldn't have the chance to make a statement in September, but ever since Jerry Manuel took over, the Mets have been on a collision course with Philly that's brought us to this point.

This is the moment we've been waiting for since last September, the chance to stick it to the Phillies and exorcise the demons.

How do we do that? Well, not to succumb to the tyranny of low expectations or anything, but I don't need the Mets to sweep this series to be satisfied. We just need to win it. We can't lose it. And we certainly can't get swept.

* * * * *

Baseball's a funny game. Anybody who's followed the game has seen how teams and fanbases can, over time, make certain outcomes almost self-fulfilling prophecies.

For ages it was understood on both sides of the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry that the Red Sox would eventually fail and the Yankees would come out on top.

We saw a similar dynamic for years whenever the Mets played the Braves. Mets fans, and players too it seemed, expect to lose when we played the Braves, especially down at Turner Field.

My big worry this September is that if we fail, that dynamic will establish itself for the Mets with the Philies.

It's already taken hold to some extent. After the "7 up with 17 to play" fiasco last year, each late-inning come-from-behind triumph for the Phillies serves as a reminder of missed opportunities past and present.

* * * * *

And so it is that starting tonight we battle not only the Ghosts of Septembers past and present, but also the Ghost of Septembers yet to come.

Sweeping the Brewers was great. Going 6-2 on the road trip was great. But September starts tonight.

Starting tonight we face the tyranny of last year head on. Starting tonight we have the chance to script a better present in 2008. Starting tonight, we can strike a blow for Septembers still to come by rewriting the dynamics of our rivalry with the Phillies.

All of it's on the line starting tonight, and we'll see if the Mets can rise to the challenge.

- A.F.O.M.G.

August and Everything After

So... what do you expect to happen this month?

* * * * *

Expectations are funny things. They can be reassuring and they can be devastating. We saw both sides last September, when we all expected the Mets to close out the division. As things collapsed all around us we clung to those expectations, and for a long time, too long, they buoyed our spirits.

In retrospect, those expectations not only added to the devastation of our collapse, to some people's minds they caused it.

Who knows what happened really. Expectations, smoke and mirrors, an evil spell... something. And then nothing. Not again until March.

* * * * *

And so this September we expect only the unexpected. We learned last year that nothing is given, and our season this year has had enough ups and downs to know that the script this team is reading from is illegible.

As the Hound is fond of saying, it seems this team suffers a Most devastating. Defeat. Ever. every other week, but somehow it keeps on going.

More than anything, the ability to pick themselves up is the hallmark of this year's team. I remember wondering throughout the last season what the identity of the 2007 team was. In 2006 an identity was forged through comeback victories and their general wont to "run roughshod over the National League".

In 2007 we were left searching until the identity of last year's team revealed itself in that final horrible month, and that identity was so horrifyingly negative that frankly I don't care to talk about it now.

This year though there's something to latch on to. The ability to pick themselves up off the mat has given this team an identity, an edge, and for the fans, a reason to believe in them again.

Cynical ones among us might seize on their almost implausible ability to squander big leads, but that's not their identity, it's their flaw. Their trademark is in not succumbing to that flaw; it's even made them endearing again.

As fans of the 1998 Mets know, they'll have to be a lot more than endearing if they're going to pull this thing off.

Luckily, in the past week they've shown they have the pop, the starting pitching, and, sometimes, the bullpen to make the playoffs.

Beyond all that, they've shown they've got the backbone. And if they're going to pull this thing off, I think we all expect that particular quality to be infinitely more important than anything else.

- A.F.O.M.G.