Thursday, September 06, 2007

JOEY VOTTO.

It was all well and good to be charitable to the rookie coming up for his first at-bat on Tuesday, especially when he whiffed all three pitches, especially since we were winning (although that 11-7 still makes me wince). But it didn’t mean much to me until I visited Sister Daedalus at The Church of Baseball (“Reds fan by birth. Nats fan by residence. Baseball fan by the grace of God.”) and saw her post reading, ” I sure hope Votto starts tonight…because he’s the only reason worth watching at this point.”

On Wednesday, I had lunch with TBF, and then headed off to a meeting, and couldn’t keep checking the game updates. When I got out later and checked the boxscore on ESPN, and saw that Joey Votto had hit one of those 7 runs, well, I was glad because 1) the freaking Mets phoned it in and 2) the rookie got a HR and 3) someone I kind of sort of know was going to be happy in that way baseball can make you happy unexpectedly, especially someone who is a fan of a team that has pretty much rolled over and played dead in terms of postseason activity. Call me a traitor if you want.

On the note of being a traitor, here’s an amusing anecdote from last night. I am sitting in the running car standing legally on Bedford Ave., while TBF runs into DuMont Burger to pick up dinner. On the way over, we had been listening to the Mariners at Yankee Stadium, hoping for our friends that the Mariners can pull it off. A car pulls up behind me, doesn’t really park, but no one gets out. Another minute goes by, and then someone gets out of the car and comes up to the driver’s side window.
“I’m waiting for you to pull out.”
“This isn’t a legal spot, and I’m waiting for someone inside.”
“Right, but I want the spot.”
“I’m waiting for someone to pick up dinner, and there’s a hydrant here. You can’t park here anyway.”
“Oh. *pause* You listening to the Yankees game?”
“No, I’m listening to the Mariners game.”
“Oh, sorry. Thought you were listening to the Yankees game.”

There is football on the television now, and the only baseball I could watch is the Cyclones. The nights are cool, the baseball tickets dwindling, and I have no idea what I am going to do when the 2007 season ends.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

“LET’S START THAT RUMOR RIGHT NOW.”

Denis Leary and Jon Stewart discuss Kevin Youkilis, Shawn Green (who’s now “that guy on the Mets”) and David Wright. You have to wait until about the 5th minute in on this 6 minute clip, but it’s worth it. Warning: do not ingest foods or liquids while watching.

[HEY DENIS, STOP TAKING ALL THE PARKING IN MY F’ING NEIGHBORHOOD ONCE A MONTH WHILE YOU FILM ‘RESCUE ME’. KTHX]

Also via Joan Walsh, Salon’s “The 18 best Jewish ballplayers.” Avoid the comments if you don’t want to be reminded how terrible people can be. As the girl who avidly leapt upon Dave Marsh’s list of Top 10 Jewish Rock Stars, the vitriol is—well, racism and anti-semitism will probably always surprise me, and I guess that’s a good thing (that I’m not numb to it at this point, not the existence of racism and anti-semitism).

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

CANDYGRAM.

Hey, Keith. THIS is the shark you were freaking out about for almost the entire broadcast the last two days. Feel better now?

Monday, September 03, 2007

PAPA WAS A ROLLING STONE.

It is with great sorrow that I inform you that I am writing this from my couch in Brooklyn, and not posting via laptop hookup to cellphone somewhere on the way back from Cincinnati. Had TBF mentioned on Friday or even early Saturday that he had an itch to drive to Ohio to watch Pedro’s first start, we would have ditched the family barbeque, gotten some sleep, and started driving late yesterday afternoon. As it was, he didn’t mention it until about 8pm last night, and at that point it was too late, really, and too little baseball in exchange for too much driving in one 24 hour period - not that that would have stopped us had the stars been aligned right.

So instead of getting on the road to Ohio and Skyline Chili and hometown boys the Afghan Whigs played at the ballpark (*at the ballpark!*), we stayed home where I made homemade garlic knots, enjoyed Pedro Being Pedro, and opined what jokes I could make about a pitcher named McBeth (“something is rotten in the state of Ohio” or “oh, that this too, too solid pitch would melt”). And, to put the icing on the cake, the 2007 Mets once again showed up to play, and play well. Despite Gary and Keith and Kevin intoning how, by the time Pedro’s start was announced, airfares were $1000 to Cincinnati and so no one would be there, plenty of blue and orange and “Jose, Jose, Jose” resonated from the stands. (Unlike Red Sox Nation, we travel because we can and because we want to and because we feel like we should be there, not because we have to. Although that said—hey, gang, when we’re up by 7 runs, can we simmer down on the “Let’s Go Mets” chants?)

TBF made a comment last week (which may or may not be his thought) that as long as we don’t try to compare the 2007 Mets to the 2006 Mets, it’s a lot less nerve-wracking. The other problem, of course, is that we’re still playing What’s My Line? with the 2007 Mets. They’re not the scrappy, score-five-runs-in-the-first-inning team from 2006, or even the feisty team from the beginning of this season. Reyes has had a slump. Wright has had a slump. Delgado has been AWOL. Endy went on the DL. The faces and personalities we as fans could key off and that the team could key off were down or missing for a lot of the season. I feel like what I’m seeing now is the personality of the 2007 Mets.. but it’s SEPTEMBER, so all I’m really seeing is the 2007 Mets Who Are Trying To Stay In First Place. (As to who those fellows were that put on Mets uniforms and played at Citizens Bank Park earlier this week, I’m going with the theory that the entire team was captured by aliens or that the Phillies had them kidnapped and held for ransom at an undisclosed location somewhere in South Philadelphia. Hey, it works for me.)

Aside from Tuesday night, I didn’t get to see many games this week, and I’m okay with that. The house was so colossally cranky after the Phillies losses that it was probably a good thing that we didn’t continue to subject ourselves to continually running into a brick wall out of choice. It’s supposed to be fun. And when it’s not, it’s time to step back and maybe do something else for a little bit until it is fun again.

Friday, August 31, 2007

HERE’S A GUY ON THE METS THAT ACTUALLY WANTED TO WIN.

Meet Marlon Anderson. Marlon wanted to win the f’ing game.

I know that the umpire’s call was the right one - oddly enough, Derek Zumsteg (who wrote The Cheater’s Guide To Baseball) blogged about this rule two days before Marlon tried to salvage the game for the Mets. But I cannot be angry and am at least heartened that HE F’ING TRIED! HE TRIED! Why? Because he wanted to WIN!

No, the Mets can’t go breaking rules and cheating to win. But at least I have some tangible proof that someone cares.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

REALLY?

You’re really going to let the Phillies sweep us?  Really? You’re kidding, right?

Yeah, I know there’s a game today. I briefly thought of assembling the girls and heading down there. I’m not sure what mind-altering substances I was under the influence of at the time. Oh, wait, it’s the ones that make me think THAT THE PHILLIES SUCK AND MY NEPHEW COULD GET A HOME RUN AT CBP and, to quote Coop yet again, THESE ARE THE GAMES WE NEED TO BE WINNING.

I’m back to thinking that they really just don’t give a damn. That it irks me more than them to think that I have unused World Series tickets still sitting in a FedEx envelope in my bookcase. As though that happens every frickin day around here.

I wish I could exhibit Mike’s calm stoicism, but right now I just can’t. IT’S THE PHILLIES. At worst we should be 2-2. Not going into the last game of the series with them up 3 games.

I just can’t even think about it right now.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

MOTA-VISION.

This is about how I felt last night when Mota got on the mound. I am stealing it because the crabby sign is getting old and I have no time to find something more suitable - when, in fact, this picture says EVERYTHING I could possibly have to say.

The person under the great shirt from the VOTE FOR MR. MET campaign is of course darling Will from Smear The Queer, who I coerced into attending Zoe’s blogger’s night out (and I stole it from her photo album, too.)

I know everyone is going to the theater tonight, but we couldn’t be bothered. Tonight we are going to a minor league game in Staten Island so I can try out MY NEW CAMERA! I want to try the lenses out now, while I can still exchange them, and so I learn how to use the damn thing on a game that does not count.

This means, of course, that OP will do a fantastic job tonight, because I am not watching. Feh.

It’s been a little bit of an insane week, so I apologize for the dearth in entries.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

TAKE A LONG WALK OFF A SHORT PIER.

I have nothing but bad things to say about the Philadelphia Phillies. I hate Chase Utley, I have nothing but invective to cast in the direction of Brett Myers, I think Shane Victorino could play a serial killer in any Hollywood movie—shall I go on? Please, go take a wrong turn in Camden, or go throw yourselves collectively off the Ben Franklin Bridge.

(A note: I realize the bridge that is most proximate to CBP is the Walt Whitman. I would not want to sully that fine bridge, and the fact that it was named after a POET, with the demise of the Phillies.)

Now that I have alienated all of my friends who admire the Phillies, let us move on to the New York Mets. I seem to be the only person on Planet Earth who saw Brian Lawrence in the lineup for last night’s game and didn’t think that the Mets were going to get ABSOLUTELY AND COMPLETELY CLOBBERED. It doesn’t matter who they had pitching; you could take the guy who takes money for parking at CBP and put him on the mound and I guarantee you that he will look like an ACE.

I blame the entire evening, however, on TBF, who sat himself on the couch and proclaimed that this was going to be “an old-fashioned blowout, 11-5 Mets.” Um, HELLO?

We just stopped watching at one point. And then we would feel bad, and unworthy, and turn it back on, only for me to yell, “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?” and TBF would turn it off, and then we’d skulk off to our respective corners. Just about the time that the cat would think it was safe for him to resume his position underneath the coffee table, one of us would turn on the TV again. The only bright sign during the entire game was when we’d get a shot of the out-of-town scoreboard in the outfield and see the Tigers continuing their rout of that Other New York Team.

I’m just going to put up the crabby sign and go back to work. See you at the Blind Pig tonight for Zoe’s Mets-blogger-and-other group therapy session?

Monday, August 27, 2007

MEMO TO THE LEFT COAST.

While I know this is a Mets blog, for Alan and Sarah and Jake and Lauren and Victoria and Deanna and everyone else in the Emerald City, let me take this opportunity to say:

LET’S GO MARINERS!!!

(At least until they get to the point where they’d have to face the Mets. Then all bets are off.)

Sunday, August 26, 2007

JUST A QUESTION.

Who appointed Dane Cook official baseball spokesperson? And can we get a recount?