Fandom, The Ultimate Dysfunctional Relationship

Why do we do it? Which synapses fire to elicit the chemical reaction that leads to this strange phenomenon? I’m sure a psychologist could sit me down and explain the reasons I’ve become a fan.

He or she could likely articulate the rationale for the related behaviors that accompany this seemingly full-time “occupation.” Perhaps then it’s time for me to schedule a consultation, because lately it’s been painfully clear that being a devoted sports fan of a team – any team, let alone the New York Mets - is borderline insane.

What’s the impetus for all this? Simple. Once a year, for the past six years, I’ve gone to see the Mets away from Shea. Actually, I go with my mother who I can at least partially blame for the psychoses associated with my Mets fandom (we could spend a whole ‘nother post on this mother-son dynamic, but we’ll spare you). In brief, she reads no less than three NY-area papers daily “back to front” (and never really makes it very far forward). She wouldn’t know if a bomb wiped out NYC, but she’ll call me at work to relay a rumor about Endy Chavez. Her radio dial is permanently turned to WFAN, and she talks about Carlos and “Josie” as if they’ve all been her friends for decades. A few years back during our Cincy trip she went up and hugged Cliff Floyd in a Foot Locker like he was a long-lost high school buddy (Uncle Cliff was actually a decent sport about it). OK, you get the point.

Anyway, right now we’re preparing to head to St. Louis for three of the Mets four-game set at Busch. And while I’m excited about checking off another stadium on the list, the time I’m spending waiting at the airport has me seriously questioning the sanity of this entire exercise – of being a fan, of following a team and investing emotional energy into something that never gives back.

For me, the analogy is pretty clear. My association with the Mets is the classic dysfunctional relationship that men and women have engaged in for ages. Think about it. You’ve been going out with someone for a relatively long time. They’ve hurt you time and again, betrayed you, “messed with your head” and abandoned you. Your friends tell you that you’re a moron. They point out the history, previous transgressions repeated patterns of behavior…but, for some reason, you can’t break up with that girl/team.

It’s probably because the girl/team has promised you that they’ll change, promised that they’ve learned their lesson or turned over a new leaf. And while the rational part of your head knows a zebra doesn’t change its stripes (and Aaron Heilman is still going to be Aaron Heilman in the morning), the pure sucker in you keeps coming back for more. As you look back over your agonizing time together, you can’t quite figure out what magnetic force pulled you toward them to begin with. Even when it was good, it was never that good. Plus, if it was you can’t even remember any more.

Instead, it’s now a relationship that perpetuates itself more out of habit than any sort of true love. You look at them (the girl, or say a lineup that includes Fernando Tatis, Endy Chavez, Damion Easley, Trot Nixon and Ramon Castro), and you don’t even find them remotely attractive. In fact, they’re kind of repulsive most of the time. Sure, when they dress up with their full roster of accoutrements they can succeed in turning you on for a fleeting moment, reminding you of the “best of times.” But not frequently, and certainly not enough to justify your sticking around.

So, why the hell do we do it? Why in the f-in world am I sitting in an airport in a marathon "rain delay" trying to get to g-d forsaken O’Hare in order to make it to St. Louis to see this team play on three consecutive nights??!!

The answer is probably perfectly straightforward. I’m sure that same psychologist could help open my eyes once and for all to the masochistic nature of this relationship, and then I can move on. But that appointment’s going to have to wait. I’ve got a plane to St. Louis to catch. The Mets are waiting at the Westin, and then we’re off to Busch Stadium for one last fling. After that, I would swear our relationship is through, but, unfortunately, I know better…

Mets Fire Randolph, Embarrass Themselves in Process

The New York Mets filed for their divorce from manager Willie Randolph early this morning east coast time.

The team cut ties with the second winningest manager (by percentage) in franchise history -- the official announcement crossing the wire via press release at about 3:15 a.m. EST. It's actually quite fitting of an organization that has, in many ways, derailed over the course of the last two years.

If you frequent this blog from time to time, you know of my allegiance to the Mets. I am a lifelong fan and season ticket holder since 2000. While I've never been an adamant Willie supporter, I've also never piled on the guy or unilaterally claimed that firing him was the answer curing the Mets ills. As I've said time and time again, this team is severely flawed in many ways, a phenomenon that points the arrow of culpability just as squarely on some other individuals, as it does to Willie.

So, this morning my emotions are mixed. I could drone on for hours about all the reasons this move was right or wrong. I could lament how seemingly "unfair" it is that players getting $100M contracts are largely free of consequence for underperforming, or how illogical it seems that the manager is the only fall guy despite not having the opportunity to swing a bat or turn a double play. But these are the realities of today's game, for better or worse. You simply can't fire your entire bullpen. You can't release players making $10M/year for hitting .240 or going 0-for-the-season with RISP.

Instead of attempting to wax poetic on those broader "issues of the game," I'll try to keep it simple. Because, to be honest, I'm not entirely sure all of the things I'm feeling this morning. Here's what I do have some opinions about.

The Mets are an old and mediocre ballclub. Willie was not the reason for the Mets struggles, nor was he the solution to improving their play. Sometimes Willie managed the Mets like he was overseeing a Little League team, making sure certain players got opportunities they never deserved and costing the squad a game here or there because of those moves. But, for the most part, I didn't have any major problems with Willie Randolph.

What I do have problems with, like so many columnists have already opined on, is the way in which this whole thing went down. Simply put, the Mets can't even get a firing right. For those who haven't heard the sordid details, just read any of the columns from the local media who all have it nailed.

On a day when the Willie Randolph era officially ends in New York, I am not excited about the prospect of a reinvigorated team. I'm not even relieved to be turning the page from this drawn out saga. Instead, I feel badly for Willie and embarrassed to be a fan of this organization. Instead of moving forward, I feel like this organization has taken a self-inflicted leap backwards.

Tonight, Jerry Manuel will take the helm as the Mets play the second of their set in Anaheim. What's been done can't be undone. It matters not how well Omar gets trained by his media people. Whatever comes out of his mouth henceforth won't hold much water if he were to even admit some missteps (which will never happen). His actions brought to mind for me the likes of Bobby Petrino, making you ponder "what kind of man is this?"

There is only thing that can bring this team a modicum of respect in the near-term. There is one group that can take action to try to make something right out a situation that is all sorts of wrong. It is the same group who is ultimately most responsible for the events of the past few months. And that is the players. Tonight, we'll see what the Mets, the men who put on the uniform every day, are all about. Perhaps their play on the field can serve to momentarily divert attention from this ugly black eye.

In the meantime, Omar Minaya should slink back into the shadows with the same sleazy stealthiness with which he glided into Anaheim for his midnight hatchet job. And maybe take a hard look in the mirror and ask himself a few questions.

Dear Texas Rangers, We Have a Suggestion

The Texas Rangers are Who We Thought They Were

Being a critic is easy. Every fan loves to be an armchair GM. It's easy for us to sit there and critique these men, many of them lifetime "baseball guys," who've seen more from an insider's view of a MLB organization than we will ever come close to sniffing. These GMs, backed by scouts, managers and assistants who have likewise watched players, at every level, from vantage points we have never been privy to and likely never will. So, perhaps it is unfair for us to sit here and criticize these individuals, while ignoring salaries, team payrolls and other considerations a GM must rightfully weigh. All that said, sometimes things just seem so simple.

So, our apologies if this statement is either ignorant and/or harsh. But, to the Texas Rangers, what the &^%! are you people doing??? Jon Hart, 30 year-old Jon Daniels (yes, he's the youngest GM in baseball), it really doesn't matter. Call me crazy, but hasn't the story been the same with the Texas Rangers for years and years? It's called PITCHING, and it's something the 'ole GM of this franchise may want to look into. As a season ticket holder for a National League ballclub since 2000, I've spent eight years looking at the out-of-town scoreboard. Eight years of seeing 10-8, 12-7, 8-6 and 9-4 scores pop up with frightening regularity next to TEX.

This weekend, I got to watch these Rangers play a three-game set against my often anemic 2008 New York Mets. The result? Two wins for the Metros. Eighteen runs surrendered by Texas pitching in three days. In other words, par for the course.

Win or lose, one thing is a veritable lock when it comes to Texas Rangers baseball. Lots of runs on both sides. Texas has boasted its share of sluggers over the past eight seasons, from Carlos Lee to Mark Texiera to, most recently, Josh Hamilton. Michael Young, Alfonso Soriano, Hank Blalock, A-Rod, Raffy, Pudge and Juan Gonzalez have also been a part of what were several vaunted lineups. Bats have never been hard to come by in Arlington.

On the other end of the spectrum, how about this list of team leaders in wins since 2000. Rick Helling, Helling, Kenny Rogers, John Thomson (13-14 in '03), Rogers, Rogers, Milwood and Milwood (10-14 in '07). Not exactly a murderer's row. Then of course there were those years where the most intimidating pitcher next to these superstars was Chan Ho Park. That is never good. This year, Vincente Padilla paces the staff with eight wins, followed by Milwood and (recently released) Sidney Ponson each with four.

So, back to that suggestion. Based at least in part on above, the Texas Rangers may want to start putting some of that free agent and trade consideration energy towards pitching. And for those looking to play the "small market" sympathy card on the Rangers, let's remember this is the same squad who shelled out $252M for Alex Rodriguez a little while back.

If the journey through the "aces" of the Rangers staff from 2000-2008 was too anecdotal, or maybe not strong enough "evidence" of an epidemic, here's another set of numbers Rangers personnel and management should review for a few hints on which direction to head:

2000 American League team pitching rank: LAST, team ERA of 5.52
2001: LAST, team ERA of 5.71, nearly a full run more than the next-to-last place Tigers (5.01)
2002: 12th! 5.15. Take that D-Rays and Royals!
2003: LAST, 5.67 (so much for that)
2004: What?? Did that say fifth in the AL? What do ya know, Texas just happened to finish 16 games over .500 that season.
2005: Back to 12th, beating out only the Devil Dogs and Royals.
2006: 9th, 4.60. Respectable. Kind of.
2007: Sliding back down to 11th.

Like I said, I'm no GM but does anyone else notice a pattern here? Maybe just a little bit? To add insult to injury, underachieving Edinson Volquez, who boasted a 3-11 record in three seasons in Arlington is likely the favorite to start the All-Star game for his new team -- the Cincinnati Reds. No big deal. It's not the Rangers could use an arm or two.

Turning around the Rangers requires drastic measures. Our idea? Next amateur draft go for a pitcher in round one. And then take another one in round two. Take a chance in round three on another hurler. Rinse and repeat until no more rounds exist. At least it would be a start.

Anatomy of Another Brutal Mets Loss: A Team, Its Fans and Gameday

A wise man once said the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Such words are perfectly applicable to Mets fans. We continue to watch.

Day in, day out. We endure rain delays. We go to Shea. We tune into SNY. We follow team news and debate it, as if any of it matters. We do this all while unrealistically begging something will change. Hoping against hope that this team will miraculously prove it is something other than painfully average. We do this because we are fans. And doing this makes us completely insane.

What is worse than insanity? Watching a team do the same thing over and over again on mother&%^*?@& MLB Gamecast. Hanging on pitch by animated pitch. Observing little dots fill up and move around the bases while a little computer message tells you that your pitching coach is making yet another trip to the mound. This is not merely insane, this is torture.

Let me explain, or just read and you'll get it. You'll get how Mets fans are pessimistic and melancholy by nature. You'll get how we always fear the worst. And you'll get how we're usually right.

************************************************************************************
The New York Mets played a day game against the Arizona Diamondbacks this Thursday afternoon. After blowing leads of 5-1 and 3-0 over the past two games, preceded by a painful West Coast road trip, Johan Santana took the mound.

Santana did exactly what the Mets paid millions of dollars for him to do. He pitched seven innings giving up three hits, no runs and striking out 10. Johan left the game up 4-0. At 3:41 p.m., approximately the time Joe Smith was on the mound trying to protect that four-run cushion, the following email arrived in my inbox. It was addressed to four individuals, all of us Mets fans. The exchange between us over the next hour and a half (or three innings as it turned out) is all you need to read to understand the 2008 New York Mets (names have been removed to protect the no-longer-innocent).

Sent: Thursday, June 12, 2008 3:41 PM Subject: Re: here comes the implosion, boys. man do we stink

Consistent with the mindset of the die-hard 2008 Mets fan. A rising feeling in the gut of one's stomach of pending, unavoidable doom. Also, incredibly clairvoyant. This was sent at 4-0 with Joe Smith relieving Johan Santana in the eighth and stuggling.

Sent: Thursday, June 12, 2008 3:43 PM Subject: RE: I won't be able to handle being up 4-0 and losing with johan throwing 7 inning 3 hit 10 K ball. Nice job by Dwright hitting a sac fly with the bases loaded and 1 out in the 7th. We didn't even need a hit.

Take note of the supremely subtle use of sarcasm. Sometimes it's barely perceptible to the untrained eye.

Date: Thu, 12 Jun 2008 15:45:32
Subject: RE:

Waiting to throw up.

Just be patient, anonymous Mets fan (this was actually me).

-----Original Message----- Sent: Thursday, June 12, 2008 3:50 PM Subject: Re: Why did they bring in scho to walk a guy?

With this team, and this manager, questions frequently abound.

-----Original Message----- Sent: Thursday, June 12, 2008 4:00 PM Subject: oh Billy billy billy billy billy. The old billy barool

Billy Wagner comes in from the 'pen with the score now 4-2 Mets. From here on out, not a whole lot of explanation is necessary...

-----Original Message-----
Date: Thu, 12 Jun 2008 16:02:48
Subject: RE: oh

He better get it done today. That's all I'm going to say. In the words
of Harry, He needs to "totally redeem himself"

-----Original Message----- Sent: Thursday, June 12, 2008 4:17 PM Subject: Re: i hate this f--ing team. I am throwing a tantrum in my office. I hate them all.
-------------------

Date: Thu, 12 Jun 2008 16:20:43
Subject: Re:

well, on the bright side, we finally got mark reynolds out

On 6/12/08, wrote:
Gotta love it. Closer comes in. Shuts door. Awesome.

Date: Jun 12, 2008 4:31 PM Subject: Re: i'm hoping easley gets plunked here (third time's the charm) to win it. it's the only way.

Dreaming for a bases loaded hit batsmen...that's what it's come to for fans of this team.

-----Original Message----- Sent: Thu 6/12/2008 4:35 PM Subject: RE: oh No worries, all. Heilman's in. What could go wrong?

Aaron Heilman proceeds to promptly give up go-ahead run in 1oth...right on cue.

---

From:
Sent: Thursday, June 12, 2008 4:41 PM
Subject: Re: oh

i didn't have heilman giving up the double, sac, sac, i confess. i had two hr's and no outs, followed by feliciano. my bad.

On 6/12/08, wrote:

my head hurts....

---

Sent: Thursday, June 12, 2008 4:54 PM
Subject: Re: oh

have a great time tomorrow. i'm really jealous that you guys are going.

Aimed directed at my buddy and me who have season tickets. The game is now final. 5-4 D-Backs We are currently strongly considering not attending. Welcome to hell as a fan...welcome to Metsville.

Mets Repeatedly Kick Fans in Nether Region on 2-5 Road Swing

Well That Ended Poorly, Huh?

I was almost starting to feel it. Management had given Willie the sitdown. The fire had seemingly been lit underneath the Mets lazy, uninspired asses. The team had returned home and taken five out of six prior to heading on a cross-country flight out West to face two poor teams. Things were looking up. A little more emotion. A few comebacks. Even some hitting.

But, alas, it was just another in a long line of Mets teases. I remember last week emailing with a few other fans of this ill-fated franchise with misguided visions of grandeur. "Let's take five out of seven on this trip. Two crap teams. Let's go on a run...get a good clip over .500" And so on and so forth...

Instead? Instead, the Mets dropped five out of seven to two teams who (prior to the arrival of the friendly visitors from New York) were well under .500 and struggling to stay ahead of the Rockies in the NL Waste. Instead, those Mets returned to their true mediocre form managing to take two of three from the Giants before getting swept in a four-game set by the vaunted Padres.

The cherry on top? Each of the losses was particularly painful in its own special way. Shall we review? Try not to throw up Mets fans.

Monday, June 2:
Riding the high of five of their last six, the Mets rolled into AT&T park with Oliver Perez on the hill. O.P. managed to keep his team in the game for exactly zero seconds logging a whopping 1/3 of an inning during which he surrendered five hits on six runs, along with two walks. Mets lose 10-2.

After a triumphant Pedro comeback and another win in SF, you starting thinking good things again. Still a chance for a solid winning road trip. Get three out of four in SD. Uhhh, not so much.

Thursday, June 5:
Ninth inning. Scott Schoenweis on the hill. Walk. Walk. Ground out. Intentional walk. Hit batsman. Game over. 2-1 Pads. AWESOME.

Friday, June 6:
Santana on the mound. Mets go up 1-0 in top of six. Johan makes critical error/poor decision and gives up two in bottom. Mets lose 2-1. Again.

Saturday, June 7:
This is not an instant replay. Padres 2, Mets 1. Walk off home run. In the 10th. Scott Hairston! /Now doubling over in pain.

Sunday, June 8:
Mets take 6-4 lead into bottom of eighth inning. For once, Willie goes to Billy Wagner to get more than three outs bringing him in with two down in the eighth. The Mets best pitcher this year proceeds to give up a run-scoring single to Jody Gerut. 6-5 Mets. Next? A three-run pinch hit home run to Tony Clark. Perfect ending to a stellar visit to sunny San Diego. Padres 8, Mets 6.

Honestly, there's not much you could have wrapped into this road trip that would have been more painful for Mets fans. Perhaps an injury or two, or maybe just an 0-7 record. Other than that, nope, not much. It's beginning to get absurd. But, like others, we've resigned to the fact that this team is not very good. At least they're entertaining...in a terribly masochistic kind of way.

Why Barry Zito Has It Easy

Oh How Different Things Could Have Been

Why does Barry Zito have it easy, you may ask? Aside from the fact that he's sitting on a seven-year, $126 million dollar deal that is already being dubbed by many as the worst contract ever granted a starting pitcher? Two words. San Francisco.

Change those two words to New York, and Barry Zito's experience would be about as disparate as the coasts themselves. Truth be told, Gary Cohen touched on this briefly during last night's SNY telecast of the Mets-Giants game, a game which Zito started and quickly departed leaving behind another stellar line: 4.1IP, 7H, 6R (five earned), 5BB, 1K.

Cohen posed the question, and it remained lodged into my head like that freakin' Subway five dollar foot-looong jingle. It's really quite an interesting scenario to ponder. Consider in 2006, I was one of the many Mets fans (if we are really being honest with one another) who was clamoring for Minaya and crew to go out and sign Zito. "Do What You Need to Do!" "Lock Him Up!" "We need a lefty ace, this is a no-brainer!" I was not alone. Turns out, maybe Omar knew something when he refused to completely open up the vaults for the (at the time) 28 year-old southpaw.

Back then, Zito was still Zito. His record was 102-63. He had a Cy Young under his belt. He had his nasty 12-6 curve and a respectable 90MPH fastball that was more than enough to set up his soft stuff. Last night, he was barely hitting 84 on the gun with his heat, leaving far too narrow a gap between fastball, curve and change. The results have been staggeringly ugly. For even the casual fan, the phrase "shell of his former self" seems perfectly apt when watching him on the mound in 08.

In the Bay area, this performance is certainly not applauded, but one couldn't help but notice the generally warm reception (all things considered) Zito received when he descended the mound and slowly sauntered to the dugout after another beatdown last night. That's when it hit home for me. Even the media coverage on the Zito debacle is somewhat tempered on the left coast.

So, what would it be like in New York? "Decidedly different" would be a mild understatement. For better or worse, Mets fans express their opinions. Those feelings seem to be infused with far more passion surrounding the team's biggest stars. When those stars underperform, particularly those who've commanded big-time dollars, the reaction is often merciless. One only need reference Carlos Beltran and Carlos Delgado in recent years. Aaron Heilman has also felt the wrath of the Shea "faithful" early and often this season.

The sh*tstorm that would be brewing (and would have been festering now for over a year) around Zito is mind-boggling to think about. He would be getting absolutely abused by the fans, sportstalk radio and the media in New York. The covers of the local tabloids would certainly come up with typically tasteful and far less-friendly headlines than "Back Off Track: After a decent May, Zito descends to 1-9 with a poor outing."

Zito would be booed before he took the mound. Showered with boos when his name was announced by the PA announcer. Assailed by the boo birds every time he walked a batter. And after departing from a start like last night? Who knows, but it would not be pretty.

So, if Zito's psyche is fragile out West, he may just want to count his lucky stars. Because if you were to gin up the worst possible scenario for an athlete coming to New York, the Barry Zito story could very well be it. It might have rivaled the Zeke saga in terms of discussion and intensity (in this city). It actually would have been quite amazing to see. Although, I sure am glad his dead arm and lost stuff has found it's home at AT&T Park instead of Shea.

Post-Memorial Day News Flash: The Mets Just Aren't Very Good

Sports talk radio. Blogs. Online communities. The meteoric rise and prominence of the fan voice. These are all both blessings and curses. Each has undoubtedly helped stoke the sports passion inside me, as well as motivate me to find my own little place on this big bad World Wide Web to similarly share an opinion.

On the other hand, those same forces have quite frequently made me feel unquestionably dumber. Many of us "took to the Web" to find, share, read and comment from a viewpoint that was perhaps less biased or jaded than our perception of the mainstream sports columnist.

We also went to those channels to hear other educated sports fans make rational arguments and have somewhat intellectually-stimulating debates on topics that are ultimately hugely unimportant and inconsequential. Is Rick Peterson as effective a pitching coach as he once was? Should Billy Wagner being speaking his mind or does his honesty cross the line?

Instead, most of what fills the airwaves, Interwebs and TV roundtables is venom-spewing, loudmouth grandstanding folk who go so far beyond simply stating facts and commenting on things that can be seen or easily inferred by the avid fan. They spend hours upon hours just screaming that this person must go and so-and-so needs to be coddled...or not coddled...or coddled only on weekends when he's had a rough outing the night before...Does anyone just speak plain English about the facts and not try to make these things interminably more complex?

Reality is that I am probably know little more or little less than these talking (and typing) heads. So, why listen to me? I'd like to think there are certain things a dedicated fan can pick up from watching a team and its players day in and day out that requires no clubhouse passes or managerial interviews. Other passionate fans are watching the same things. Maybe they just want to focus on those things. Maybe they don't care about whether Willie "connects" with Jose Reyes emotionally, or if Carlos Delgado is a good clubhouse-guy, or if Carlos Beltran can "lead." C'mon, already.

Here's what we got. Not with me? Agree to disagree.

Willie Randolph is not the greatest nor the worst manager. He seems a man of admirable character who respects and defends his players (perhaps, at times, to a fault). He was hard-nosed and competitive as a player. He was part of winning teams and winning organizations.

If there were awards granted for "tacticianer of year," Willie would likely never be a finalist. Willie is not the primary, secondary or tertiary reason the New York Mets are 23-26. So, management can fire Willie if they want...and maybe the Mets will win a few more games...but that certainly isn't the answer.

The bottom line is that the Mets are a mediocre baseball team. Everyone keeps talking about their "talent" and using words like "disappointing" "underachieving" and all the like. Reality is that they're just not that good. And I'm starting to wonder what team all these so-called experts are looking at.

The team has two dependable starting pitchers (Santana and Maine). Two. Many teams have more. Some, pity their souls, boast only one. Two is average, maybe below average. The Mets starting pitching is average, maybe below average.

The Mets are hitting .253 as a team, good for 13th in the National League. There are 16 teams in the NL. The Mets hitting is below average.

The Mets bullpen is average. Pedro Feliciano = way above average. Billy Wagner = way above average. Schoenweis = having an above average year. Matt Wise = light years away from average. Aaron Heilman = Binghamton. Rest = crap shoot, ranging from average to aspiring to one day be average.

Spending more time on the lineup, the Metros have a gentleman patrolling the bag at first who has trouble moving laterally. Luckily, his bat also passed away in late April (although many would claim it was basically lifeless as early as midseason in 2007).

Our shortstop is a 24 year-old man, with the mentality of a 16 year old boy. Enthusiasm and excitement, enjoying the game...good. Pouting, running the bases like you're playing "Whoopee" and forgetting what's going on at certain points of the game...bad. Actually, worse. Now, in one's fifth year as a professional baseball player, unacceptable.

Third baseman who feels the weight of the world on his shoulders. Outfielder who is a professional hitter whose urine-stained hands can help team win games but can't take a shower without landing on the DL. Catcher and second baseman both average at best. A supposed superstar in center who is immensely talented but not producing a whole lot. And, our best player in 2008, now concussed, in right.

There it is...there's your 2008 New York Mets. A mediocre Major League Baseball team. Nothing embarrassing, but no great shakes neither. But, it's a doggy-dog world these days. This is NY! We paid big money to get these guys! So much talent! They're just not motivated! FIRE WILLIE! Bring in Backman or Mazzilli or Manuel or Fregosi or some other insert-absurd-name-here.

It's all really quite ridiculous -- and quite tiresome. Even posting this has drained me, which is why I've avoided doing it until now.

Tonight marks another game for this painfully average club. Perhaps tonight they'll win with Santana on the hill. Then they will likely lose...then win...then lose...and so it will go. New manager or otherwise. And I, the fan, will continue to watch. It is the path I have chosen. A path of mediocrity, at least for this year.

Mets Make Joe Smith Feel Special, Lose Phone Number

This here is our boy Joe Smith. For those of you who don't know him, Smitty is a reliever for the New York Metropolitans. He's a loveable sidearmer who looks like he's about 12 years-old.

Last year, he was filthy for the first half before falling off a cliff in the middle of the year and heading down to the minors before re-joining the big club late.

In 2008, Joe is pitching well again, sporting a 2.81 ERA through 16 innings while allowing only 2 of 18 inherited runners to score.

Unfortunately for Joe, the Mets have had a number of injuries leading to all sorts of discussion over what would happen when the team re-activated reliever Matt Wise from the DL. Someone had to go. Despite his performance, baseball is a business. Joe had options and word on the street as late as yesterday was that Mr. Smith would be the odd man out on his way back to Triple-A New Orleans.

But, alas, the baseball gods divinely intervened and the result should be much more pleasing to all Mets fans. However, it seemed Joe himself was among the last to know.

Smith left Shea Stadium Monday night, thinking the original plan still was in place, despite word from Wagner.

"[Wagner] told me I had nothing to worry about," Smith said. "But I didn't know what he meant." Aware of his angst, the Mets tried to contact Smith on Monday, but they had the wrong number.

He heard from Pelfrey on Tuesday morning that he was safe. "I don't know or care how he knew," Smith said. "I was just happy to know I was staying."

C'mon, Omar and crew. How hard is it to have accurate phone numbers for 25 guys? Poor Joe is likely pulling a Pedro Cerrano snake voodoo trick in front of his locker, yet Wagner and Pelfrey already know the deal? Were they listed as his emergency contacts?

Delgado's Bat, Former Standout, Dies at 16

April 23, 2008

New York Mets Baseball Club
Shea Stadium
Flushing, NY 11358

To Whom It May Concern:

It is with our deepest sympathy that we regret to inform you of the death of an important member of your organization. Late yesterday afternoon, after a long and arduous battle against its illness, Carlos Delgado's bat died at a hospital on Chicago's North Side.

As many of you know, Carlos's bat health has slowly declined since his arrival in Queens two years ago. Previously, it had led a long and largely healthy life, producing over 30 home runs and at least 97 RBI every season from 1997-2006.

But early last season things took a turn for the worse. Delgado's bat, usually energetic, vivacious and quick-hitted, seemed lethargic. It lacked that effervescent spirit its teammates and fellow wooden friends in the dugout cubbyholes had come to expect -- and almost rely upon. Quiet and reserved, Delgado's bat no longer was able to keep up with the fast pace and energy of a high fastball. He shied away from any balls that tried to get close to him or "get inside." Carlos's bat was, to use a cliche, a shell of its former self.

Carlos's bat finished 2007 sapped of most of its energy, producing only 24 home runs and 87 RBI, while it limped along to its lowest batting average (.258) in a decade. Despite new medications and a revised winter regimen and treatment schedule, Carlos's bat continued to deteriorate in early 2008.

Perhaps exacerbated by his refusal to try a new experimental form of therapy called "going the other way," the bat's health spiraled perilously out of control over the last few weeks of April manifesting itself in weakness, shortness of breath and only one hit in its last 27 plate appearances.

Hope for Delgado's bat was expressed by Dr. Howard Johnson as late as yesterday morning, but by the afternoon it was clear to even the most casual of observers that it was simply too weak to continue on. Finally, in the top of the eighth inning at Wrigley Field, Carlos Delgado's bat passed away quietly, striking out swinging against third-year Cub Carlos Marmol.

Delgado's bat was sixteen years old. A memorial service will be held on April 24 in Puerto Rico. At time of death, Carlos's bat weighed only 34 ounces and appeared even thinner from the stresses and fatigue of the previous two seasons.

We realize the problems that the bat's passing brings to you and your organization. Please realize that the much broader Mets "family" empathizes with you. It is our collective mission to honor the memory of Carlos's bat. That said, we must, as difficult as it may seem, move on. Time will heal all wounds.

With Our Deepest Sympathy,
The Society for the Preservation of the Mets Season

Last Opening Day at Shea: The Treasures We'll So Dearly Miss

The Eighth Wonder of the World

On April 17, 1964 New York baseball returned to a new home in Queens. And, for 45 or so years since, millions have suffered the pain of cheering on the blue-and-orange. Despite it all, though, there has always been one constant source of comfort for Mets fans. One shining beacon of beauty in an otherwise bleak and dark Flushing backdrop: Shea Stadium.

As the new CitiField rose in the distance, I took in my last opening day at Shea yesterday. I was overcome by so many emotions. But most of all, I bemoaned those countless stadium treasures to which I will bid adieu later this year. While the beautiful traits and intricacies of this majestic edifice are too many to list, I've attempted to note of a few of the wonders I will miss most (as a tear slowly streaks down my cheek).

MODERN ART

For anyone seeing Shea for the first time, it's impossible not to stand in awe of the modern impressionistic art adorning its exterior. The complex and mysterious stick-figure-like images of generic players batting, pitching and catching imaginary baseballs cause one to simply gaze in wonder. At night, the outlines come to life in vibrant, brilliant neon color. It's simply glooorious.

URINE HALL

From the moment you step off the 7 train at Willets Pt./Shea Stadium, the sights, smells and sounds envelop you in their warmth...quite literally. I shall most definitely miss the cozy confines of Urine Hall, the underground tunnel fans descend into on their way towards the turnstiles. Yes, I will certainly long for that sharp, yet distinct, smell of piss come 2009.

COMFORTING INTERIOR

Once inside this hallowed structure, Shea emits its own intangible energy. The wide throughfares, the bright lights, the engaging fan experiences...I bemoan the fact that I will soon say goodbye to all of them.

STUNNING ARCHITECTURE

Shea was rocking exposed beams (or ventilation ducts) long before it became an architectural trend. The water damage, rust and lack of any sort of paint job for at least a decade, add an element of charm that will be impossible to replicate at CitiField.

CULINARY ADVENTURE

Ohhh, the food! Every trip to Shea comes with it the anticipation of another culinary experience filled with diversity. The hot dogs, the pretzels, the peanuts...at times, it's simply impossible to choose! Not to mention the vast selection of beers, ranging from Bud to Bud Light in cans, draught and bottles. So many different cultures represented...elaborate stations...local vendors showing off the best of NY cuisine. It's depressing just to think about what lies ahead. The task of topping Shea's food offerings at CitiField is certainly an unenviable one.

LAP OF LUXURY

The glory of Shea begins long before you arrive at your seat. But, once there, more magic welcomes each visitor. The comfortable ergonomically-designed stadium seats greet you like a loving grandmother, ready to embrace its inhabitants in warmth and love. If you're lucky enough to check them out on opening day, the cleanliness and attention to detail devoted to each seat by the Shea facilities crew is commendable. Not to mention, the fancy new paint job and spit shine.

CLASSIC VENDOR UNIS

Nothing is overlooked at Shea, which is just one of the many reasons I love it. In other parks, vendors don outfits showing off the colors of their teams, or even hats or other franchise-related flair. Not at Shea. No, sireee. We've got our vendors dressed in their penitentiary-best neon yellow. Nothing says friendly and inviting like security guard/prison jumpsuit-inspired gear.

STATE-OF-THE-ART TECHNOLOGY





Whether its the sophisticated sound system or 36-inch "jumbotron" in left field, Shea takes in-game entertainment to new heights. Everywhere you look, the most up-to-the-minute technology is being utilized to showcase game action. Nowhere is this more noticeable than the 19-inch tube televisions nestled near the food vendors boasting vibrant picture and no sound.

SPACIOUS RESTROOMS

Cavernous restrooms are yet another Shea specialty I will dearly miss. There are few stadiums in the country where one can leave their seat to urinate and return three innings later (having only urinated). Shea is one of those rare gems. It will be nearly impossible to say goodbye to those lines....

...and, of course, the courteous bathroom attendants constantly keeping tabs on the facilities throughout each game to ensure cleanliness.

SERENE EXIT SYSTEM

The joys of Shea do not stop once the final pitch has been tossed. No, the experience is a holistic one. Shea and Mets management know this better than any franchise in baseball. Nothing tops off a beautiful day at the ballpark better than the camraderie of jamming together like cattle to board the subway home. Shea's top-notch engineers have strategized a brilliant exit process that can only compare to trying to squeeze a bowling ball into something the diameter of a marble. Ingenious.

Luckily, I have 25-30 more games to truly drink in the splendor of Shea. Until then, I can only hope others will use their respective forums to honor its greatness.

A Man, a Woman, Baseball and Two Views of the Same Things

I Shall See You Soon, Shea Apple

I am a lucky man. My fiancee is a sports fan. If she wasn't, I very likely would not be referencing her as my fiancee. A true die-hard football fan, she also appreciates the college hardwood game and enjoys baseball. Despite that, she is not like...well, like me. Men tend to be slightly different types of fans (generally speaking). We just aren't wired the same way as our female counterparts.

And, as the baseball season kicked off this week, I was reminded of this reality. What drove it home? The simple yet intriguing revelation that we can each look at a set of the same facts with completely different (if not exactly the opposite) points of view.

Here are just a few examples:

HER: The thing about baseball that I don't like is that it's on almost every night and the season is so long.
ME: The thing I love about baseball is that I can go home almost every night and there is a game on, for months and months.

HER: I understand why you have partial season tickets, but it's just that it's like every Tuesday and Friday you're out at Shea and that's two days of the week where you have "something to do."
ME: The joy of having a partial season ticket plan is that every Tuesday and Friday the Metros are home I have something to do.

HER: I cannot believe you purchased a full season of Mets tickets this year!
ME: I can't believe I'm the proud owner of a full season of Mets tickets, not to mention guaranteed seats at Citi Field in '09!

HER: We have nothing to do on Sunday.
ME: I have something to do on Sunday. It's called "watch Mets baseball."

HER: Did you see what happened last night? Britteny broke up with her boyfriend on "The Real Housewives of New York City!" What is she going to do?
ME: Did you see what happened last night? Pedro popped his hamstring and is probably out at least two months! What are we going to do?

Honestly, the pyschology of it all is quite fascinating, and we could probably go on forever. We won't. Here's to enjoying another glorious season. Honey, it'll all be better come October. Just suck it up for another seven months. Isn't baseball great?

HER: Eyes rolling...

ME: Sh*t-eating grin widening...

Can Someone Explain How a F-ing Hamstring is So Hard to Keep from F-in Popping???!!!

See You in Eight Weeks, Buddy!

I am not a physician, nor do I purport to have any medical knowledge whatsover. But how in the world does one pop a hamstring on opening day in the process of throwing a pitch to home plate! Seriously. What is it with this crap? It's one thing for a pudgy catcher trying to run out a hit in 40 degree weather to blow a hammy, but a pitcher on a normal delivery? In 70-degree Florida weather? In his first start of the season?

I played sports throughout high school and then in college. I never pulled, tore or "tweaked" a hamstring. Nor do I recall a single one of my post-college recreational athlete friends being sidelined with a hammy. So, why is it such a common injury with professional athletes who are supposed to be in tip-top shape? It's one thing to have these injuries over the course of a season when the body is continuing to be worn down and such, but is it that hard to strengthen up the tricky little tendon in the offseason to at least make it through a game or two?

Hey, Mets trainers. How 'bout we add a few more glute raises to the offseason workout routines? I'd suggest maybe Moises Alou, Ramon Castro and PEDRO MARTINEZ as excellent candidates for such strength and conditioning excercises.

Ugh. This whole discussion simply exhausts me. I know we Mets fans have nothing to complain about in relation to many other squads across the League. But why can't anything ever go smoothly? Can we at least see what this team could be with all of the pieces in place? Alou and Martinez on the DL are not surprises. Hell, it would've been a slam dunk if Vegas put odds on the likeliness of such occurrences. But, at least once, it'd be nice to have a pleasant surprise one of these seasons.

Perhaps it will be Angel Pagan. Alas, the joy and sorrow of a 162-game season. Whatcha got OP and Johnny Maine?

It's Real

Photo: Newsday

Oh, happy day! He sure does look good in pinstripes, eh? BLUE pinstripes that is. Who would've thought a day would come where #57 might be the most popular Mets jersey? Didn't Eric Valent wear that number? Slight difference in player quality. Tiny...

Mets + Santana = Three Stacks of High Society

Back in the Game

Simply put, we're back in the game. That's my immediate thought. No fancy pictures with this post. No out-of-control predictions or expectations. I've sat on the Johan news for a bit now just letting it marinate, trying to figure out how to articulate what this Mets fan is feeling. And I've again come to Rounders as my source of inspiration. Following the Metros epic collapse at end of last season, I likened my emotion to how Mikey McD must have felt after Teddy KGB cleaned him out for the first time.

Playing out the analogy, this off-season we spent our time riding around in Knish's truck generally feeling sorry for ourselves and not even bothering to try to get back in the game (that goes for fans and team management). As the winter meetings came and went, and we crawled into the New Year, we feebly put our chips cautiously on the table with a few moves here and there. But they weren't strong plays.

We talked about Livan Hernandez, Carlos Silva, Freddy Garcia. These guys were the equivalent of the golfers game or the one at the diner uptown. Basically, pretty depressing to even think about or discuss when not too long ago we were taking about sitting at the table with Johnny Chan. Know what we mean?

No, only one thing was going to get this team, and these fans, all the way back. We had to sit down across the table from our KGB. We had to put our chips on the table with some real scratch. It was Santana, and going all in, or we were going bust. And we finally did. We sat head-to-head and made a play. And, frankly, it feels like we managed to bring in the rake while still keeping a few proverbial chips in our back pocket.

It feels good. I'm not going to lie. But this one move does not a champion make. Now, we've simply got the credentials to take our trip to Vegas and sit at the table with the big boys. We've got three stacks of high society and now have a chance to make a play for it all. Mike McDermott was wondering if he had what it takes to take home the WSOP title, but he had three stacks of high society and was going to find out. Will the Mets eventually have what it takes to head to our world series in 2008? I don't know either. But, now we've got our three stacks back...and we're going to find out.

Sports Fans in These Cities May Want to Take a Vacation...for Several Years

Fans in our #1 City Have Already Left for Vacation

The woe-is-me fan bug has recently crept into my soul. The Metros imploded down the stretch, inexplicably missing the postseason. The Jets are limping towards an atrocious finish to a season entered upon with high expectations. And, though it’s undoubtedly early, the Knicks are proving once again to be a mockery of a franchise. Therefore, all signs pointed to a personal pity party. Guess we’ll just have to wait for March Madness to give a crap about sports again…

But, in reality, how bad does the New York fan truly have it? Even the Jets-Mets-Knicks variety? And how often in this modern day of big-market money do cities like New York peer into the future and see utter hopelessness for their sports teams? The honest answer: not often. Plus, in a market boasting seven major sports franchises there’s bound to be somebody decent. So, we probably need to quit our bellyaching, right?

Which got us to thinking…who really has it bad? More specifically, who looks into the crystal ball of the immediate future and, despite increasing parity and the ability to “turn around” a team in a single season, sees nothing but mediocrity or worse? Which city appears to have the least to look forward to the next 3-5 years?

For instance, we all know the Bucos prospects ain’t bright…15 years of futility tell us so. It is not debatable, it is scientific fact. Yet, at Heinz Field there’s no reason to believe that Parker, Roethlisberger and Tomlin won’t continue to keep the Stillers competitive for the foreseeable future (not to mention that Crosby kid is supposedly pretty good on skates). Nor can one cue up traditional domains of doom like Cleveland, who have a young talented Tribe team and a Brownies squad slowly returning to respectability. Oh yes, they also have LeBron James.

So, here’s our shot. The criteria on cities is pretty simple. We looked at those with at least two major sports franchises. For the sake of this discussion, we concentrated on hoops, football and baseball. Why not factor in hockey? To be honest, we don’t watch or know enough. Therefore, we’d be talking out of our ass…which we always try to avoid to as great a degree as possible on ‘dis here blog.

Without further discussion…our top ten cities whose 17 year-old fans might be able to take a vacation from their locals until college commencement.

10. Atlanta/Minneapolis (TIE): The Braves will continue to be competitive, but their years of utter dominance are behind them. The young Hawks appear to (maybe?) be improving but an NBA title run at Philips still seems far in the distance. And then there's the Falcons. To quote the always-solid Falcoholic: "You know this season has turned into a nightmare when I'm requesting that Chris Redman starts." Kinda puts things into perspective, no?

Like Atlanta, the baseball team in the Twin Cities keeps Minneapolis from climbing higher (meaning lower) on this list. The Twinkies have a good organization, a good manager and decent young talent. But, let's face it, they traded away Hunter, and Santana might be gone as soon as today. They won't spend the moeny to put this team over the top. It's an unfortunate circumstance, but no less true. The T-Wolves are incredibly young and aren't punching tickets to the Western conference finals any time soon. Crazy to say, but things in the Twin Cities might look even bleaker if not for the Vikings?? Do I believe Tavaris Jackson will lead the Vikes to the promised land? Not so sure. But I know one thing...I believe in Keyser Soze...and I believe in Purple Jesus.

9. Houston: Tell me who you put faith in to go deep into the postseason in the near future? Schaub makes the Texans unarguably better, but they're at least a few years - and a few more impact offensive players - away. Get him a line, a running mate for Andre Johnson and a young stud in the backfield and we're talking. The Rockets are who we thought they were - a competitive team in the West. You kind of get the feeling the McGrady-Yao combo has had their chance. The 'Stros just did this. I know he played on the NL Champs last year, but this does not bode well.

8. Charlotte: Home of the Bobcats and the wounded Panthers, the fans in Charlotte may want to turn their attention back to motorsports. David Carr (he of the dainty gloves and fragile body) is not the answer. Think Steve Smith is getting close to having enough of being a Panther? Perhaps Adam Morrison will put the dreams of a city on his shoulders. Perhaps not.

7. Tampa Bay: Another two-sport city with dim prospects in the next 3-5 years. Don't get me wrong, I think Jeff Garcia is the MVP of the NFL. No joke. Last year in Philly was no fluke. The fact that this team is 8-4 and leading the NFC South defies logic. Gruden is a good enough coach to continue to keep this team competitive, but they need to get an offense one of these days and that won't happen overnight. The baseball squad here manages to bring the whole equation down. You can call them whatever you want but the 'Rays will continue to upset their fans as well as, potentially, Satan.

6. Baltimore: Now, this is where it starts to get fun. The rest of these cities are all hurting, it's just a matter of degrees now. With the O's and Ravens, Baltimore sports fans are staring poor to mediocre in the face. Billick will soon be gone and the team will face the same challenges. Solid defense, awful offense. Plus, that formidable "D" is getting older. Frankly, I don't know much about the O's except that they're not very good. I like Markakis and they have (had?) a few good, young arms but the Sox and Yanks just have too much firepower to even allow good teams to fight for the AL East. And the O's ain't good yet.

5. Cincinnati: Almost a mirror image of Baltimore, the two pro franchises in Cincy don't exude confidence. Marvin Lewis's bunch has done a better job staying out of the clink, but they couldn't stop USC right now and it just doesn't look like whatever "it" is, is working. The Reds homepage has the following players proudly featured across the page header: Ken Griffey, Jr., Adam Dunn, Bronson Arroyo and Aaron Harang. Hopefully, the Great American Ballpark has good concessions.

4. San Francisco: We could go all Bay Area here and get weird with Oakland, Golden St., etc. but let's stick with SF proper. Giants. 49ers. Two once-proud organizations, both reeling. Expect nothing from either of these teams for a good long while. Although, I love this kid (I just hope he doesn't destroy his arm).

3. Kansas City: Being forced to suffer through season after season of Royals baseball is more than any fan should have to endure. But the folks in KC should be cursing the sports gods for frowning upon them and delivering this man. Enjoy him Chiefs faithful. Herm and the Royals? Does any city deserve that?

2. Washington, D.C.: Things do not look bright in the nation's capital. The Nationals are young and "new." Plus, they are bringing in the likes of Milledge and Elijah Dukes to their outfield mix. While that makes them immensely bloggable, it probably won't help them much on the field (although the clubhouse may be more interesting). We like Jason Campbell, but Gibbs appears on the brink of retirement which might not be a bad idea considering recent decisions and the pieces just aren't quite in place. Meanwhile, the Wizards have Gilbert Arenas and...Gilbert Arenas. Wait, they don't have Gilbert Arenas now? Maybe we're unfairly piling on to D.C., but we don't see big things coming from any of these three in the nearterm.

1. Miami: Oh to be a fan of the teams in South Florida! Honestly, why bother? Seriously, take the next decade off. Consider it an early holiday gift to yourself - a gift that keeps on giving. The Marlins continue to develop great young talent and then send it away. Miguel Cabrera and Dontrelle Willis should become the latest examples. The Dolphins are flirting with historic futility and the Heat are, literally, crumbling before our eyes (4-13?!). For the local fans, now would be a good time to head to the beach, until say 2012?

So, next time the woe-is-me fan bug hits you. Think about being in Miami, or D.C., or K.C. and be thankful for what you have.