No Other Way

I'm not even mad, I'm just amazed.

No other way. No other possible way. 7 runs in the first off Tom Glavine - Tommy Glavine, 300 wins, in one of the biggest games of his career - who only gets one out in the first before forcing Willie Randolph to turn the biggest game of the season over to the Mets' 6+ September ERA bullpen. I should have known there was no other way for this piece of the New York Mets 2007 season to shake out.

If the Mets win today, they sure will have earned it. Fittingly, this year will either end on a horrendous loss and go down (the end at least) as one of the more horrendous in Mets history, or the Amazins will pull of a herculean comeback that continues the season and in turn further perpetuates (with love) the love/hate dynamic that has hung over every fan's perception of this team all season.

Bottom 2, 7-1 Fish. Nats down 1-0 in Philly.

Keep the faith.

(Photo courtesy splicedonline.com)

Been Wating For This All Season

No, not the final day of the Mets' regular season, the entire season itself hanging in the balance - a win guaranteeing nothing more than one more game but not necessarily a post season berth, a loss forcing us to say our prayers.

This is exciting, and I will relish it and hope it doesn't break my heart, as so much Mets-related excitement has eventually done in the past. But that's not what I'm going for. Instead, from Mets.com:

"We are friends," Reyes said. "We talk all the time. I thought he was kidding. When he threw his glove down, I knew he wasn't kidding."

-Jose Reyes talking about what provoked Marlins catcher Miguel Olivo to charge after him in the 5th inning of the Mets' 13-0 win yesterday. The benches had already cleared after two straight Harvery Garcia (?) pitches had landed behind Luis Castillo, and tempers were still flaring. According Olivo, Reyes challenged him to a fight. According to Reyes, he was joking.

Either way, Olivo charged Reyes, found Sandy Alomar instead, and the benches cleared once again. Olivo was the only ejection, but Reyes and Oliver Perez were pissed, as was Mike DiFelice, who charged after Olivo and smartly would have been the fall guy if a Met had gotten suspended for this business, as opposed to Reyes, who was held back by a wall of at least 5 Mets.

This is it - after a Phillies loss to the Nats, the Amazins and Fightins are tied for first place in the NL East with one game to go, the Phillies charging hard to try and win the division, the Mets trying to expel as much of whatever they have left to outlast the Phils. Which is why I was so glad to see the brawl.

Sandy Alomar, 63 years old: "I am not a boxer ... but he made no contact with me. I'm too quick for that. I was going to protect Jose. I have no fear whatsoever. I was going to be there."

From the New York Daily News: Oliver Perez and Mike DiFelice, who were called "two pieces of ---" by Olivo, were the most prominent players off the Mets bench involved in the fray. Billy Wagner also twice led the spirited sprint in from the bullpen. "Hell yeah. I been getting my butt kicked. It'd be good to kick somebody else's butt, or at least attempt to," Wagner said.

Crazy-eyes Lo Duca: "I was in the training room getting ice and was trying to zip up my pants as quick as I could to get out there. I don't really know what happened, but (Olivo) is a little chicken you-know-what for taking a swing at a 60-something year-old man."

Exactly.

But I've been waiting for this ALL season. Expecting a brawl comes with expecting to watch a team that plays like it's on a mission. A brawl shows heart, resolve, and clarity of purpose - most of all a prevailing "we're not going to be f*cked with while we try to win this thing" attitude. When the Mets struggled in June, I hoped they'd fight and that perhaps that would wake them up. At any time in the season, really, I hoped I'd see a fight - not because I wanted blood, or anything, but just because I wanted to see balls on the part of the Mets. Instead, we've been seen as too nice and possibly gutless all year.

Not yesterday. In the midst of a 13-0, John Maine almost threw a no-hitter-style blowout, I finally got my fight. And the finally Mets looked alive with their season on the brink.

I can only join with Mets fans everywhere now in hoping that today (or tomorrow) we'll finally get our postseason berth. Screw the Phillies.

(Picture courtesy nydailynews.com)

Loud And Proud

Good thing last night wasn't actually game 7. If it was, we'd have blown it again. Though we're clearly very close to doing that anyway.

Still, this time we can take a three-game mulligan. If we screw that up, that's that. If we run the table, there would remain a chance for our three-game mulligan to become a four-game mulligan, depending on what the Phillies do. Depending on what the Padres, Rockies, and D-Backs do, there's a chance it could become a week-long NL wild card play-in mulligan, which would be insane.

I wore my orange Mets shirt proudly today on my trip back up to New York for the weekend from DC. Going through Grand Central, I got a few comments.

GUY AT TABLE IN FOOD COURT AREA: Ahhh, there's a Mets fan. You're brave!

His words seemed more condescending, sarcastic, and Yankee fan-ish than anything else, but I stuck with a modest response.

ME: I still believe, man...I still believe.

***

MTA WORKER ON TRAIN PLATFORM: Let's go Mets! Let's go Mets!

ME: In sickness and in health...

The first guy wasn't a real fan - just responding to my jersey - but another worker chimed in: "It's cool I'm a Mets fan too."

I gave him a little ra-ra double fist pump with my back turned as I walked away.

***

On days like this it's important for us Mets fans to stick together, and be willing to love and support one another. In addition to responding to people, I was sure to show my approval to anyone else repping the orange and blue today. My day was brightened up when I said "nice hat" to a shy little boy with a blue and orange Mets hat on, and, after pausing long enough to be appropriately scared of a stranger in a large, intimidating, public place, the kid said "thank you" in a soft voice. It was...like...talking to a young me!

Not quite sure where his parents were; hope that turned out alright...

***

There's absolutely nothing else I can say that hasn't already been said, by me or by one of the thousands of other worried, angry, depressed Mets bloggers out there. All I know is that times like these define true fans and bandwagoners.

I wore my jersey with head held high today because I'm proud to be one of the true fans. Whatever happens this weekend,

LET'S GO METS!

Always.

(Photo courtesy mbselitegolf.com)

Everyone Deserves A Second Chance

Even if they're a baseball team that's coming uncomfortable close to blowing a 7 game division lead held with 17 games to play. Everyone gets a second chance.

It's Mets-Cardinals tonight, at Shea Stadium, with the leaves turning, in a game of extreme significance. It isn't game 7 of the 2007 National League Championship Series, or even the Division Series. We'll see if we make it that far.

For now, we'll just hope for a little revenge

And it's not do-or-die. This is, afterall, not a winner-take-all postseason series finale - there are three more games left in the regular season. But it can probably be classified as do-and-make-it-a-lot-easier-to-not-blow-the-season.

Pedro's on the mound. Isn't that how things were supposed to work out last year, when instead both Pedro and El Duque came up lame before the playoffs, and yet everything still felt as if it was unfairly and abruptly yanked from us? At least potential failure this year will be precipitated, potential success maybe that much sweeter because of the feelings the last two weeks have left Mets fans everywhere.

Anyway, this was supposed to be our year. We came out the first series in St. Louis and played such crisp, vintage new-era Mets baseball. Payback. Heart. Balls. Sweep the team that knocked you out last year. Bite off the hand that slapped you. Especially when they try to slap you again with an overblown, drawn out celebration of their accomplishments the previous year. Anyway. After 3 in St. Louis, everyone true to the orange and blue was ecstatic. Even apart from the arrogant marketing slogan our team had thought of, it really felt right off the bat as though our season had come.

Our season looked pretty promising after we beat up on tipsy Tony and the Cards to start it

I talked about all this in an all-star break post/assessment of our first half. The sad part is that the same issues that were problems then still haven't been corrected - they've only gotten worse. The concern that was our bullpen is suddenly a disaster. Where we lost some ugly games in the first half, our pitching staff right now is profoundly unable to get anyone out - much worse. If we had issues getting our act straight back then, those problems haven't gone away; they've only compounded.

We started fast and had a bad month of June. Bad pitching, no hitting, mental errors...the hitting's been better lately, but I guess the issue is that record-wise at least, we still really haven't gotten over June. Essentially we've been the same, mediocre ballclub since then. Going into tonight's game, we're 87-71, 16 games above .500. On June 1? 34-19, 15 up on .500. We've been one game better than a .500 team for two-thirds of the season. And while we've had our bumps and bruises, we haven't really had any completely devastating injuries. Nothing to warrant this team playing so crappy for the majority of the season, when the reason everyone was so excited for this year was to have the opportunity to watch a team on a mission.

The mission is far from accomplished, and though it might be close to completely going up in smoke, it's still far from that, too. We have a lead in our division with 4 games to play. If we take care of business, we're in. That's been the case for the past two weeks, the whole season really, but it's still true now.

It's been frustrating to watch the Mets this year, no doubt. And it hurts more because it shouldn't be this way. But we're Mets fans. We don't quit. We're failure-hardened, and have seen enough miracles to know that the next one is never entirely out of the realm of possibility. Things are painful right now, sure. It's really not fair that in the same season that, just four short months ago, you thought New York was finally turning blue and orange again, the Yankees still found a way to come back and the Mets are still fighting for survival.

But all we can do is believe. And cheer, and over-analyze, and jeer. Still, this thing is out of our hands - we can lend our beloved Amazins our love, our support - but ultimately it's on them. So it goes being a sports fan. Why do we continue to torture ourselves?

Who knows. All I know is that I love this team, and always will - playoffs, World Series, 71 win season, whatever. If we screw 2007 up, I'll be back for more in '08.

But let's hope it doesn't come to that. Please, Mets, don't blow this. Don't just hand the city back to the Yankees. You guys have shown the strength to battle through tough times like these before. I'm begging you to show it again now.

It's all I can do.

(Pics courtesy newsday.com, about.com, byrnesblog.mlblogs.com)

Stepping It Up

Huge, huge, potentially season-saving win for Big Blue today. I'm not talking about the Mets, as in the orange and blue. I'm talking about my New York football Giants, who's much-maligned and previously terrible defense came up huge in the second half today against the 'Skins, turning in a shutout performance in the final 30 minutes at FedEx Field that culminated in a big goal line stand inside the five to end it and seal a 24-17 victory that saved the G-Men from what would have been an abominable 0-3 start to the 2007 season.

Burress caught what proved to be the game-winning TD

Perhaps obscured by how well the defense performed was the O's three touchdown second half - Reuben Droughns rushed in for two and Eli threw another - but the offense, tossed out on the street the last two weeks and ordered to fend for itself, wasn't the story. Freshman coordinator Steve Spagnuolo's blitz-happy, Jim Johnson-inspired Eagle defenses finally worked, and it was a joy to watch.

I'm obviously not writing about the Mets, though the term "huge, huge, potentially season-saving win" could certainly be applied to their performance as well. I actually didn't catch any of the game today - it is Sunday, after all, and between the Mets not being televised down here and Sundays in the fall belonging to football, I was forced to follow the end of the game whenever the MLB scores came around at the top of the screen on FOX's Giants/Redskins telecast. I'm just reading about it right now.

All I knew until a few minutes ago was that they were ahead 6-3 going into the bottom of the 8th, 6-5 when the ticker said ^9, and that the score was then tied the next time I looked up. I've never been the best at riddles or word problems, but someone with the nascent deductive reasoning skills of a small primate probably could have figured out that the Metsies' bullpen had blown it again. After 7-4 Mets became 8-7 Marlins on Thursday night, shrinking our lead over Philly back down to a game and a half, I suspected it was not going to be long before the score came back around again to tell me that we had another highly disappointing extra-inning loss on our hands.

The Nats tripped up the Phillies in the last. game. ever. at RFK stadium, so a loss wouldn't have dropped us to a half-a-game or anything quite that terrible. But it still would've been another ugly waste of a golden opportunity to move closer to putting this thing away in a 10-day period of much ugliness and plenty of wasted opportunities to at least make the rest of the regular season a little less interesting than its become. Playing part in my own little mini-metaphor for this frantic Mets September, I quietly hoped for the Amazins to pull it out, but nervously knew it was no sure thing.

I hadn't seen Carlos Delgado's big three-run homer in the 8th to give the Mets the 6-3 lead they'd go on to blow. And I didn't see David Wright come up clutch in the top of the 11th to give the Mets the 7-6 lead representing the margin of victory they'd go on to win by. And I certainly didn't see what was surely the heart-stopping combination of Aaron Sele and Scott Schoeneweis come on to pick up Billy Wagner and secure the victory in the bottom of the 11th, though I'm sure that was fun to watch.

The Schoew came up big today in extras

But at around 5 o'clock or so, I did see "NYM 7 FLA 6," followed by "F," in the upper right hand corner of my football screen. And I did react excitedly, with a sense of relief - "ahhh God yes!" went the words coming out of my mouth, or something like that. And while the win maybe wasn't quite "season-saving," in a 2007 campaign marked by periods of beautiful, opera-like song, contrasted with spells of uncomfortable, indigestion-induced hiccups, I do know that with three big wins in Miami the Mets have re-established some NL East breathing room, seem to have moved past this latest hiccup, and are again in position to finally nail down a division that should've been nailed down long long ago. With just a bit more success this week, we'll all be able to "sip a little champagne," and Willie Randolph won't look like a jackass for predicting in the midst of our struggles last week that "when we do" it'll "taste a little sweeter."

This team has a chance to make history in the next 7 days as the first Mets team to win two division titles in a row. Mets fans everywhere will be watching, and rooting.

Hopefully, the coming week's potential toast will come to be. Hopefully, it'll be the first of four this fall.


(Photos courtesy sportinglife.com, espn.com, wholefoodsmarket.com)

Three Nights In Washington

After a disappointingly wretched, exhaustingly painful, division lead-shrinking, total-tone-of-the-last-two-weeks-of-the-season-changing home sweep at the hands of the Philadelphia Phillies over the weekend, the Mets headed to Washington Monday night, attempting to re-group and place a metaphorical gauze pad on their deep, blood-gushing NL East /2007 season metaphorical wound. Having moved to DC two weeks ago, I said I'd be at all three games, and if Matt Buccelli is one thing, folks, he is a man of his word.

The Mets were bleeding and the gauze was nowhere in sight this past weekend

I took the Mets at their word, too, figuring that following another stomach-churning series against the Phillies, the Amazins might be inspired to respond as they did following their next-to-most-recent stomach-churning series against the Phils, and once again fight to quickly regain their lost divisional breathing room. "I think we'll turn the page and play well in Washington," said Willie Randolph. "Hopefully, it will mirror what happened last time," added David Wright.

Last time, of course, the Mets followed a four game sweep in Philadelphia by going down to Turner Field and owning the Braves for three days. The division lead, down to two after the sweep, climbed to four over the weekend. Then the sweep in Atlanta, such a dramatic departure from past Septembers, propelled the Mets to a 10-2 stretch that saw the NL East lead jump back to 7. Did I have the same confidence on Sunday night that the Mets would rebound as I did on Thursday, August 30, after the first Philly sweep? I won't lie, no. Was I hopeful? We were going to be playing Washington, as opposed to Atlanta, at RFK Stadium (5-1 record in '07 going into the series) as opposed to the Ted. I felt good that I might watch the Metsies turn it around again, in person this time.

It all looked good entering the fourth inning on Monday night. The Mets had jumped out to a four-run lead on home runs by Beltran and Green, and Brain Lawrence had tossed three scoreless frames so far. Until I jinxed it all. Seriously, it was my fault.

"Hey, Lawrence is on tonight," I said to the two guys sitting next to me in the first row of the left field RFK upper deck, one of whom happened to be a Mets fan. He actually hadn't given up a hit to that point. "If he can give us five scoreless, we'll be okay tonight."

He got one out in third, but after that wouldn't retire another batter.

Lawrence departed after letting the Nats tie the score, and Aaron Sele worked his way out of the fourth without further damage, but the true damage was done. Beginning in the fifth inning, most of the Met pitching the rest of the night mirrored the tail end of Lawrence's, and while most of the Mets throw harder than 82 miles-an-hour, they didn't end up faring much better. 12-4 Nats. Phillies blow an 11-0 lead but win 13-11, division lead at 2 1/2.

"We were just as bad tonight as yesterday," observed Paul Lo Duca.

"Will you say something?" he was asked.

"Yup," said Lo Duca. "Someone has to say something."

And so Lo Duca helped orchestrate a players-only meeting on Tuesday night, where he and anyone else who had something to say could say it without easy, breezy Willie Randolph or anyone else hearing. It didn't help. Well, it did a little bit. But in the end John Maine was just too terrible on Tuesday night for the Mets to escape another loss, this one dropping the division lead to 1 1/2 after the Phillies won in 14. The Mets mounted a 2-out rally in the ninth, closing the gap to 9-8 against Chad Cordero, but in the end 8 runs against Maine were enough to see the Mets blow leads of 4-0, 5-1, and 7-3, and lose the game by that aforementioned 9-8 tally. Rough. I was more afraid of the Phils after Tuesday night than I was for myself after I thought I saw disgraced Sen. Larry Craig in the RFK men's room. No joke, I had to do a double take before I knew I was in the clear.

I was scared, briefly

I sat in section 302 on Tuesday night, in the lower deck toward the right field corner and once again next to another Mets fan but this time across the aisle from several boisterous Nationals fans, who like most Nationals fans don't care about the Nats so much as finally having an baseball-related excuse to get drunk and bag on other teams when the Nats are winning.

I took notes on the game; my intention was to turn those notes (logged in my journal) into sort of a pseudo in-game blogger post, but between work and the Mets this week, I've had no spare time to go to the internet cafe. "In-game blogger" kind of loses its luster when it's typed up 2 days after the fact.

At any rate, I took those two losses hard. Mainly, I didn't want to post to the old blogski because I feared I'd sound too much like a teenage girl cutting her wrists for attention and then writing in her live journal about it. I was that depressed. As I walked out of the ballpark on Tuesday night, talking about how horrible life was with another fellow Mets fan, (we were out in full force this week - that at least was a source of uplift Monday and Tuesday) a man on the street had Louie going on his X Plod Sony boom box, soulfully playing along to "What a Wonderful World" on his trumpet. The scene was just too perfect, all of us battered and beaten Mets fans, walking in the end-of-summer DC night with our heads bowed almost as low as our spirits, Louie Armstrong singing about how great life is. Life certainly feels like a movie sometimes, and for good reason.

The guy outside RFK wasn't Louie, but that didn't inhibit his ability to play an evocative, tear-jerking tune on his trumpet

Funny story - remember that guy, from that picture, of the Mets fan shouting at John Rocker during the '99 playoffs, from the infamous Sports Illustrated article about Mr. Rocker? He's the one I was talking to. No joke. He said it himself, and why would he lie? Brendan Hook, now a cop in Fairfax, Virginia. It was the no. 2 photo of the year in 1999 for Sports Illustrated. At any rate, I felt much better getting off the Metro on Tuesday night after venting with Brendan Hook and a few other co-sympathizers.

I can't find the picture of Brendan Hook, but I swear it exists. At any rate, he was shouting "f*ck you!" back at this guy

By Wednesday night the worst was over. I knew this night was going to be different when we didn't jump ahead by four runs in the first inning. We took a 8-3 lead into the ninth, and while Billy gave up a run - co-produced by a D Wright throwing error - the inning was rather uneventful and the gauze pad was finally applied. The only serious danger of the night was the fifth inning, when Mike Pelfrey - who had an otherwise gutsy start, displaying a previously-lacked ability on the part of the Met pitching staff to retire Nook Logan, and getting some big strikeouts to get out of trouble when he needed to - was pulled with runners at the corner and nobody out, the Mets up by two, Jorge Sosa coming in, you still have faith in Sosa but pretty much the exact situation that's been screwing us lately...and Sosa induced a K and an inning-ending double play to end the threat. See how easy that was? 3 more insurance runs and we were on our way to that much-needed victory.

It's 4-3 Marlins in Florida right now. The Mets were up 3-0, but that situation that's been screwing us lately screwed us again and the Marlins scored 4 times in the fifth. That situation that's been screwing us lately screwed the Nationals (and, by association, us, yet again) in Washington; the Phils scored 4 times in the seventh to tie that game at 6.

But you know, it's hard to have a pennant race when one team plays flawlessly all year. The Phillies phought it out last year too, missing the wild card by just a couple of games, but we were just too good (in the regular season, at least...). True, the much better pennant race is when both teams win 95+ games and duke it out without the sloppiness and the losing streaks and the errors, but in most pennant races, you get this kind of up and down, unpredictable, heart-pounding, losing streak leads to winning streak leads to losing streak for the other team kind of September action. It sucks, yes. And I'm pissed off, sure, because the Mets should have this division wrapped up, and are flirting with a collapse of epic (and historic) proportions. And I really wish Willie "I'm very passionate in the clubhouse, I swear" Randolph would throw something in view of a television camera, and prove that he's got some balls that aren't hidden by his phony passive-aggressiveness.

The Mets are defending Willie's laid-back style; let's hope his quiet confidence will mean success in October - if we can make it back there, of course

But in 2007, what you see is clearly what you get. Playoffs? Playoffs? Let's focus on September first. Maybe we'll screw this whole thing up and miss out on October, maybe we'll still manage to hang on and sneak in. If we make it, maybe we'll lose in the Division Series, maybe we'll be strengthened and emboldened by this September adversity. You just don't know. And the end of this season could either suck or be exalting. No one really knows.

And that's the frustrating part. Made much more frustrating with every throwing error, every blown lead. But in the end, however sloppy, this is pennant race baseball, and there's nothing to do now but embrace it. These are your 2007 Mets, love 'em or leave 'em - and now that we are where we are there's nothing to do but curse the manner in which we got here and hope for the best. What more can I say?

Ya gotta believe.

(Photos courtesy utahmountainbiking.com, cnews.canoe.ca, americaslibrary.gov, thesportstruth.com, images.usatoday.com)

...And Fightin'

3 games, 3 losses - no reduction in the Mets' stagnant magic number, only in a division lead that has once again gotten too close for comfort. Since when did the '07 Phillies become the 1992-2005 Atlanta Braves?

That's right, just as it looks like we've finally conquered our 15 year tormentors, just as it looks like the evil Brave mystique has finally been eliminated, just as we've shot that perennial season-spoiling monkey off our back, a new villain emerges - except for the fact that, where our old foe was clean-cut, cunning, and handlebar moustache-donning, a villain in the true sense of the word, now we're being handled by the baseball equivalent of a fat balding middle-aged man with barbeque sauce running down the front of his shirt.

It's 2007, and the Mets now haven't beaten the Phillies since the end of June. That streak will stay alive until next season - barring a subsequent meeting with the Fightins in October - which, a bit nerve-rackingly now given recent events, looks to be not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

After winning 4 of 5 from the NL East "team to beat" to begin the year, the Mets finished the regular season series losing 11 of 14 to the Phils, including 3 sweeps - 2 in our own ballpark. Given the way the Mets have played at Shea this year, the greater statement might be the sweep in Citizens Bank last month, but my point remains.

So what's going on here? Did the Phillies see an Atlanta witch doctor between April, when the Mets dominated, and the beginning of June, when this nonsense began? Did they find some other way to borrow some of that infamous "Brave mystique?" I want to be skeptical of the fact that the Phillies really might have the Mets' number right now - and I'm not talking about the magic one, though they are currently holding that hostage - but, as Matt Cerrone pointed out on metsblog.com following yesterday's loss, if you watched or followed these games this weekend without any prior knowledge of the standings, you'd swear that the Phillies were running away with this thing.

Guillermo Mota struggled again today, but it was Jorge Sosa who gave up the big blow - a sixth-inning grand slam to Greg Dobbs.

Mike DiFelice failing to catch a gimme pop-up on a botched bunt attempt. Aaron Heilman throwing the ball all over the field. Carlos Beltran and his critical misplay of Jimmy Rollins' go-ahead double yesterday. Oliver Perez walking the ballpark today. More bullpen woes...it's as if the Mets have just been checking out for these games. Are they trying? I think so. But once again, I can't come to grips with the fact that the Phightin' Phils really have us by the balls, especially because when we're not playing them, and they're not playing us, it's the complete opposite. Between the series at the end of August and this one, we went 10-2, while they went 6-7.

Which we should thank the good Lord for, because otherwise this division race might be a whole lot more nerve-racking than its already become. Thank God the Phillies are the ones throwing it around when they're playing the rest of the NL, walking the ballpark, blowing leads, watching their bullpen implode. And thank God the Mets got their act together for that brief two-week stretch - until they ran into the evil fat balding man again. Actually, if you exclude the two series against Philly, since August 1 the Mets are 24-10.

So what the hell is so difficult about playing the Philadelphia Phillies? Mets.com has just informed me that the Mets committed 6 errors today - 6! - to go along with 11 walks. I won't use another exclamation mark, though that number is just as staggering. Anyway, the walk/error total means that the WHIP (number of baserunners allowed per inning, don't ask me what the acronym stands for), based on walks and errors alone, for Met pitchers on Sunday, September 16, 2007, was nearly two - and that the Phils scored 10 runs on just 7 hits. Terrible.

I don't know what's up, but I don't like it. Is this my karmic penalty for treating the Fightins with such condescension yesterday? Who knows. All I know is that on Friday, I was holding out for the small chance the Mets might've had to clinch the division next Wednesday at RFK, where I'll be in attendance for their game against the Nationals. It would've took a sweep this weekend, (in the other direction) a sweep in DC, and 2 Phillie losses this week, but there was a chance. Now it looks like this division race might actually go down to the wire.

And now these games in Washington matter a bit more. And it matters a bit more that El Duque's come up lame again. And it matters a bit more that Brian Lawrence is going to have to pitch tomorrow. I really wish it didn't have to be this way.

I'll be holding my breath in the upper deck of RFK

But it does. And in a season that's defied many an expectation, and much conventional wisdom, the only thing that's held true is the Mets' ongoing presence in first place. Hopefully they can hang on to that long enough to get back to October, and hopefully then they can move past this up and down, play like crap against Philly garbage. This (unspeakable) has really got to stop.

Let's go Mets. (Seriously...)

(Pictures courtesy of imageshack.us, espn.com, mnginteractive.com)

The Fightins Keep Fightin'

"The Fightins" is such a good nickname for the Phillies. Maybe you've noticed that I really like the name, as evidenced by the fact that I've used it on a few different occasions recently to describe the Mets' closest divisional rival. Derived from the extended nickname "The Fightin' Phils," I actually hadn't heard it until sometime in the middle of this summer, but man it just works.

As any good nickname should, its got a quick, succinct ring, but it's also just condescending enough to be a perfect nickname for the Philadelphia Phillies. I'm not usually one for condescension, and I generally believe in treating everyone and everything with respect, but the Phillies mark one notable departure from this standard way of thinking.

For one, my deep-seeded belief in universal respect goes out the window when someone or something has behaved in a manner so as to abuse or otherwise make me question that respect. Case and point: I'm always friendly to the new kid in school, but if they act like a jerk or do something else to prove they don't deserve that immediate friendliness/respect, it all goes out the window.

Which cuts right to the root of why the Chicago Cubs are lovable losers, and the Philadelphia Phillies are not. Question: Who's the losing-est franchise in Major League Baseball history? Fact: The Philadelphia Phillies, who this year surpassed 10,000 losses since they began play in 1883. While the Cubs, conventionally, are known as "the lovable losers," this affectionate nickname, statistically at least, should really go to the Phillies, right?

Wrong. Because Cub fans, despite the occasional outburst, (which can be forgiven; remember - there have been no World Series championships on the North Side since 1908) on the whole are friendly mid-westerners who handle all the losing gracefully, still show up to support their team through it all, and couldn't be much more grateful when the boys from Wrigley do pull off a winning/contending season. Remember 2003? You genuinely felt terrible for the Cubbies when the overzealousy bug struck Steve Bartman, and the Florida Marlins (who have delivered an extremely undeserving fan base two World Series championships in their 15 year history) went on to win the NLCS and World Series.

Poor Cubbies

When a Cub fan gets out of line, you gently remind him/her of the Curse of the Billygoat, and it's over and done with. They still have your love. Granted it's a different sport, but in Philadelphia, on the other hand, the fans have proven that they can't even handle the recent success of the Eagles with grace, and so when their other teams suck - and still have the stones to call themselves the "team to beat" - you make fun of them because not only are they crappy, but to boot their fans are still incredibly obnoxious and lack any semblance of class. This coming from a fan of New York teams across four professional sports.

Remember Eagle fans cheering when Michael Irvin lay motionless on the Veterans Stadium turf?

You call the Phillies the Fightins because that's exactly the idea - they fight and fight and fight, but they're never the "Winnins," or thereabouts if you catch my drift, and you never feel sorry at all, you just revel in it.

And when they give you a bit of a scare, and they "fight" their way to 2 games behind with a month to play after a four game sweep in their home ballpark, but then celebrate in front of you like the calendar reads September 30 instead of August 30 and they've just clinched the division, you just watch gleefully as your team quietly rebuilds their 7 game lead and positions themselves for a 2nd straight division title. Because the Fightins can fight, but that's about it.

A 7 game lead, I might add, that has dropped again to 5 1/2 following last night's loss. And the Fightins keep fightin', winning in 10 after Paulie Walnuts got himself tossed in the ninth and his replacement, the normally reliable Jake Taylor (er, Mike DeFelice) dropped a popped-up bunt to help spark their 10th inning, game-winning rally.

It was endearing and probably necessary against the A's back in June. It was stupid last night.

But with Pedro on the hill today, (with 5 Ks in his first two innings) the hope is that despite last night's hiccup, the Metsies will rebound to trim that magic number by another couple of games. And maybe within the next week, that impending 2nd consecutive NL East title will become official.

And the Fightins will still keep fightin...for the Wild Card, at least. By then, though, they may be gasping for air.

(Photos courtesy nndb.com, media.philly.com, mets.com, sportsillustrated.cnn.com)

Lucky 13

DC's great, but it's been a little tough to post to the old blog in the past few days. I don't have internet in my apartment quite yet, and I can't really post anything at work, so for internet access in my spare time I've had to resort to the Cosi's with free WiFi at the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and 3rd St., SE, which I didn't know existed until yesterday. What a long strange trip it's been. Not really. But I definitely am still getting settled down here.

The Mets will be in town next Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, and I'll definitely be there all three nights, rain or shine this time. Hopefully they'll be able to reprise their performance from the last time they came down to RFK Stadium, when they completed a three-game sweep of the Nats. That was nice.

Hopefully the Mets can build on their 5-1 RFK record next week. I'll be watching intently.

But let's talk about the last 5 games, the time I've spent lacking the ability to write anything. The Astros came into Shea this weekend, and the Mets sent them away unmercifully with a three-game sweep, punctuated by another solid performance by Pedro Martinez on Sunday. After giving up just two earned runs over 5 innings last Monday against Cincy, Pedro again went 5, throwing 92 pitches while this time giving up no runs, earned or unearned, to earn his second victory in as many 2007 tries. Carlos Beltran and Moises Alou each were responsible for 2 of the Mets' 4 runs in the 4-1 victory.

While the Mets last night failed to record their second 5-game winning streak of the season, getting thrashed by the Braves 13-5 on an off night for Orlando Hernandez and just about every member of the B-list bullpen - save Phil Humber - it's cool because Oliver Perez (7 IP, 2 ER) and David Wright (6th inning 2-run job) helped the Mets turn in a really really incredibly good-looking 3-2 victory during which Marty Noble almost wet his pants. Read that article I linked up. There's a good chance Marty has a serious man crush right now on every Mets player, especially David Wright. Not that I don't share his sentiments. There's a Steven Lynch song about that...

Seriously, though, September has been a sexy month to be a Mets fan. Sexy September. I like the way that sounds. It's kind of sexy. But more than anything else I like the way the Mets have played, after August, with the exception of the one skid-stopping victory in Atlanta, ended with a 5-game losing streak, which included the 4-game Philadelphia incident.

The Mets will have a chance to exact some revenge this weekend

Even after last night's loss, the Mets have busted out the steamroller in September, going 8-2, and 9-2 overall since Pedro returned to the clubhouse on that aforementioned night in Atlanta. Damn, September is starting SO much better than June did. And the better news, perhaps, is that as we get into magic number territory, last night's loss is really quite unfazing because the Phillies lost and that means the combination of games we have to win and the Phillies have to lose for us to win the division again still dropped to 13. We'll hope El Duque's okay; that's two "off games" in a row for him and he did look to be favoring his previously injured foot a little bit on the mound. But that's really the only thing. I don't care how Aaron Sele (1 IP, 1 three-run homer given up to Mark Teixeira) pitches because barring a collapse of epic proportions, we're going back to the playoffs, and barring a colossal mind freeze by Willie Randolph, Rick Peterson, and Omar Minaya, Sele and his 5+ ERA won't be pitching in October.

And that's right - 13 wins, 13 Phillies losses, 6 wins and 7 Phillie losses, 8 wins and 5 Fightin losses, and for the first time in club history the Mets will have won consecutive division titles. September is sexy, but that's even sexier. It's a good time to be a Mets fan.

Here's hoping October brings more sexiness. I just saw a woman who looked strikingly similar to Condoleeza Rice. Not so sexy.

Peace, love, and good vibes for both you and the orange and blue. Dong maber, as they say in Uganda...

(Photos courtesy ballparkwatch.com, dominicansummerleague.com)

Mets Welcome Houston, I Take A Break

The Mets tonight will begin a three game series with the Houston Astros at Shea Stadium. Three game sets against the Braves and Phillies will follow next week as part of a nine game homestand.

Mike Pelfrey pitches tonight opposite Wandy Rodriguez, while Tom Glavine takes the hill tomorrow before the much anticipated '07 homecoming of Pedro Martinez on Sunday.

As likely as it looks right about now that the Mets will win their second consecutive NL East title, though, let's not lose sight of how far we've come in such a short period of time. Remember that just three years ago, we were letting Todd Zeile start September games at catcher for us:


I'll be unable to post this weekend while I move down to DC. Enjoy the games and the start of the NFL season, and as always, Let's go Mets!

(Picture courtesy of www.new-york-mets-visit-new-york-city.com)

It's In The Towels

After the Phillies polished off their sweep of the Mets last Thursday, I stopped using my white Mets bath towel, hoping the change would spark the Mets out of their 5-game late August swoon.

Following my switch to my solid black towel on Friday morning, the Mets swept Atlanta in Turner Field, ripped off their first 5-game winning streak of the season, and while they lost today's game, still watched the Phillies blow an 8-2 lead to the Braves and lose 9-8. Kane Davis was not involved in the decision.

5 up, 23 to go. It's all in the towels. What a difference a month makes.

(Photo courtesy robbinssports.com)

Good Riddance: The Kane Davis Story

Sorry for taking three days off. Bloggers don't work on Labor Day weekend. I was also in Washington, DC, and away from a computer the whole time.

Since then a lot has gone down. I last wrote about the Mets losing 4 straight to the Phillies and having their National League East lead cut to two games. Now we're 5 up again. On Friday, our September record in Turner Field was 5-21. Now it's 8-21. On Friday afternoon, Pedro Martinez was still a week away from returning to the Mets starting rotation. Today, Pedro is back in the mix earlier than expected after returning yesterday to pitch 5 effective innings in the Mets 10-4 victory over the Reds. On Friday, the Mets were riding a five game losing streak. Today, we've won four in a row. I feel goood.

Pedro's back!

But that's not what I want to talk about. You know about all of that already. And while I didn't get to watch any of the series against the Bravos this weekend, something very personal and dear relating to the Amazins happened to me anyway.

***

Flashback to April 13, 2002. I'm a high strung, rabid young Mets fan, and today is my 14th birthday. I've been treated to a Mets game at Shea Stadium by my family and the Burns', good family friends and the clan that produced Got New York Sports? blogger Martin "burnsie fresh" Burns. 7 of us in the upper deck of Shea Stadium, my name on the scoreboard, a brand new Jeremy Burnitz jersey on my back, the whole bit. Al Leiter was pitching, the newly retooled Mets of Roberto Alomar, Mo Vaughn, and high expectations were playing the lowly Montreal Expos, it was to be a perfect day. A young Burnsie Fresh and I even made limited edition K signs for Leiter with a cigarette lighter replacing the K.

All did not quite go as planned. When does it ever? We made it to the game okay and everything, but Leiter got lit up. Like a pile of incriminating Justice Department memos. Whatever he had, he just didn't have it. By the end of the third inning, the Expos had jumped out to a 7-0 lead, with all the runs scored off of Leiter.

But back came the Mets. I don't remember the exact details, but I do remember that a Jeremy Burnitz three-run homer was involved, in addition to a two-run single by Desi Relaford, a pinch hit RBI from Mike Piazza, and a near grand slam by Joe McEwing that turned into a sac-fly when Brad Wilkerson leaped up against the left field fence to rob Super Joe of a home run. Starting in the sixth, though, and by the end of the seventh, the Mets had erased the 7 run deficit and taken an 8-7 lead.

Enter Kane Davis. A young, somewhat promising prospect for the Mets at the time, if you were a rabid fan like me you'd heard his name tossed around in various minor league reports and updates on mid to above-average level prospects in the Mets system. He hadn't started the season with the Mets, but he was considered to be good enough so that with an injury in the bullpen, or something of that nature, he was the first man to be promoted from AAA. I definitely knew who he was, and I was reasonably excited to see him pitch the 8th inning and hopefully hold the lead for Armando Benitez in the ninth.

Yikes

Nope. Kane walked a couple guys, gave up a hit or two, and before you knew it Montreal had come back to tie the game. He was lifted before any further damage could take place, but the Mets were still going to have to rally again if they were going to complete their improbable comeback. 8-8.

A couple innings, a few missed opportunities, and a Robbie Alomar groundout with men on second and third and 2 outs in the bottom of ninth later, Scott Strickland was on to pitch the 11th inning. After a quick out, though, Vladimir Guerrero hit Strickland's first pitch into the left field bullpen for a go-ahead solo home run, and the Expos took a 9-8 lead that they would not relinquish.

"Hey, Kane Davis, I give you a big f*** you!" said the enormously fat man a section over from us in the gray Mets jersey, as he descended towards the upper deck exit after the game ended, 11th beer and 4th hot dog in tow. After all, he had put it perfectly. Ultimately it wasn't Vladimir Guerrero who ruined my birthday; it was Kane Davis. For the entire drive home, I harped about how we had seen a good game, but it could have been a great game. A couple of weeks ago, I was wondering why I was particularly perturbed about the Mets 9-8, 10-inning loss to the Padres, and I think it was because subconciously, it was a painful reminder of that day over five years ago. Mets come back from big deficit, go ahead, lose lead, tie again, end up losing in extras...all that was missing was Kane Davis.

Anyway. Flash forward to Sunday afternoon, about 3:30 or so. I'm driving through DC with my brother, on our way to another appointment to try and find me a place to live because I'm moving down there next weekend. We're on H street, just north of Pennsylvania Avenue, and we're driving right by the White House. It sounds too perfect, but it's actually true. My phone rings. Burnsie Fresh.

"Yo are you watching the Met game?"

"No man I'm in DC. What's going on? Are they winning?"

"Yeahhh man it's 3-1 in the 8th."

"Sweet."

"Yeah dude."

"What's up though, what's going on?"

"So the Phillies, were up 5-0 on the Marlins, right," Martin begins. "And now it's 7-5 Marlins - "

"Sweet," I interject. "Did they lose last night?"

"Yeah." Score. 3 games up again and counting.

Martin cuts me off again. He's clearly got something else to tell me. You might be able to guess where this is going...

"But guess who blew the game for the Phillies?" says Martin.

"Who dude?" I ask patiently.

"Kaane Davis!" he says, saying the last part of Davis over the boisterously gleeful and vengeant laughter I've broken out in. "Kane Davis dude!"

"That's the greatest thing I've ever heard!" I'm still gathering myself and unable to believe what I'm hearing. My brother is looking at me funny and telling me to get off the phone, but I'm thinking only about Kane Davis. He'll just have to understand when I tell him why I'm laughing so hard. Sophocles himself couldn't have written a better story of comedic irony.

"Yeah," says Martin. "That's what Gary Cohen just said on the air. I thought you might appreciate that."

And I did. Burnsie Fresh, of course, was at that fateful game with me, and he was spot on.

There aren't many things you can count on in this world, but the assurance of hearing or being a part of the occasional tale of karma and/or good riddance seems to rank right up there. Kane Davis, who pitched 17 more games with the Mets in that dreadful '02 season and was never heard from again, is back in baseball with the Phillies in a season where they've literally summoned every journeyman or career minor-league reliever imaginable to help out their woeful bullpen...and now he too has been called on. Kane. Davis. I just hope he didn't ruin some Philly kid's birthday. I might feel worse. Then again...

So after the Phillies sweep the Mets last week to trim the division lead to two, Kane Davis helps them give it back. Too perfect. Unscriptable. Wonderfully ironic. And comforting, too, for the notion that in a season of ups and downs for the orange and blue, there's one thing I should have known there was one thing I could always count on...

Kane Davis

(Photos courtesy allposters.com, somersetpatriots.com, webzoom.freewebs.com)