Monday, July 02, 2007

back from philly

So the wifi at the hotel in Philly wasn’t working, and we just rolled in (after a stop in AC - given the traffic we saw at 8pm, we probably saved ourselves a few hours of sitting on 95 by sitting at the tables). And judging by the traffic people are looking for updates!  Probably tomorrow after work.(Sorry.)

And our freaking DVR got filled up and as a result the freaking All-Star announcements didn’t tape, and we’re catching up now via Baseball Tonight. All I can say right now is JOHN MAINE WAS ROBBED.

Friday, June 29, 2007

A GOOD OMEN.

FRIDAY PHOTO.

Spring Training ‘07.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

“HEARTBREAK AND DESPAIR GOT NOTHING BUT BORING…”

It was a hot and clammy night. For once, the breezes off of the bay were welcomed, such as they were.
As we were getting off the train, we passed a gentleman in a PUJOLS jersey.
“Just don’t,” was my admonition. “It’s too hot.” Or rather, it was too early to begin what would undoubtedly turn into a heckle-fest, brought on by the presence of metal on the hands of the Cardinals and the lack thereof on the hands of the Mets. Ho-hum, is my take. We’re almost at the All-Star break. Your bragging rights are over. Stand and deliver.

But, as I am fond of saying, Pot, meet Kettle.

Like my esteemed colleague, I say bullpucky to the concept that the Cardinals fans are the ‘best’ fans in baseball. I’d even say bullpucky to TBF’s assertion that they’re the ‘nicest’ fans in baseball.  I’m not quite ready to pick a successor yet, but what a load of media-processed malarkey. We had some in our section last night and I was almost disappointed they did nothing. They watched the game. They cheered politely. TBF was raring to heckle, beginning with his salute of, “What time’s the bar open, Tony?” as the line-up announcement began.

Nothing. Not a chirp.

(Get it? Chirp?)

[More inanity after the jump.]

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

YOU CAN’T PUT YOUR ARMS AROUND A MEMORY.

We went down to DiFara’s for dinner on Sunday evening. I felt like getting out of the neighborhood and also wanted to give a financial middle finger to the City of New York for its current crusade against the place.

We discuss taking the subway (vetoed), TBF mentions the words BQE (not on a Sunday afternoon), and finally, decide to take the surface streets down.
“We’re going right by where Ebbetts Field used to be, you know,” he says.
Which I realized, but decide to let him drive and I’ll take the camera.
I’ve been there before, but always on the way to or from something that prohibited stopping. Not that there’s much to see anyway, but I am always looking for the remnants and ghosts of old New York. Heading from one relic to another made sense.

MAZEL TOV.

Or, as I like to yell when Mr. Green delivers, LET’S HEAR IT FOR THE JEWS.
(Yes, this is recycled from last year. I hope to have many more occasions to do so)

Sunday, June 24, 2007

BIGMOUTH STRIKES AGAIN.

Standing in the Highline Ballroom, following the game on ESPN, we wondered why the hell “Lo Duca ejected” took, like, 30 minutes. It wasn’t until just now when we got home and fast-forwarded to the 6th inning that we got to enjoy it in all its glory. And we disagreed heartily with Gary’s comments how this wasn’t what the Mets needed right now. I’d say this is *exactly* what the Mets needed right now.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL. [06-22-07]

When I was leaving work today, I informed my coworkers I was off to therapy. They looked vaguely uncomfortable for a minute, this being a borderline overshare - until I took my David Wright jersey out of my bag and put it on and informed them that my therapists were the Mets starting lineup. And I meant it, you know, despite the trials and tribulations it’s still Mets baseball, and I still love going and watching and being part of it. I know that dealing with adversity is part of being a fan, and I know I haven’t taken my knocks as much as you all have, but I also know that part of the privilege of hanging around is being able to bitch when the team isn’t playing up to par.

That said, tonight. TBF was determined to break some patterns tonight, refusing to wear any type of Mets shirt. I broke out my #5 jersey which has seen no in-game action this year, at all, partially because I hate being The Girl In The David Wright Jersey (although it’s not quite as bad as a t-shirt, a girlie t, or a pink t, a jersey is still a commitment) and also partially because at the beginning of the year he hadn’t quite earned it yet. But jersey, no hat, no baseball jeans. Trying to shake it up too. Stupid details, I know, completely meaningless and empty. Dana Brand wrote a great article today (which I cannot find now) about how we just feel powerless, no matter how hard we cheer we can’t break this slump for them, and that we’re equally powerless when they’re up but we’re happy when we’re up so we’re not stymied by the fact that we’re powerless.

Or something like that.

[More, including an actual game discussion and photos, after the jump.]

Friday, June 22, 2007

FRIDAY PHOTO.

Hoping that invoking Dos Carlos will bring back some good luck. PNC Park, 9-17-07.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

BAKER STREET.

From The Ballclub:

“Dear New York Mets,

Enough already.”

Text exchange with Coop last night:

MG: “Tell your boyfriend to get with the program already.”
*OP gets taken out*
Coop: “Did you see him throw the glove? En fuego!”
MG: “Less glove throwing, more strike throwing.”

From Misery Loves Company:

“Game 70 - The Clown Car Calling Themselves the New York Mets…”

From Metstradamus:
  “‘Oh the Butcher and the Baker and the people on the street…Where do they go?’

To beat the Mets!

At Shea Stadium.

Apparently.”

Even yesterday, the Twins fans were here on MG, assuring us that we’d have an easier time of it tonight. That, well, Johan does that sometimes, but Baker’s another story.

I guarantee you that if Scott Baker had pitched against any other team last night, he would have gotten humiliated.

My lesson to myself is, if I say I’m taking the night off, I need to take the night off. Not peek in the window of the Turkey’s Nest while walking home, to catch a few minutes of the game, or check out ESPN on my brand new web-enabled PDA, or say, “I’ll just watch a little bit while I eat dinner.” Luckily, tonight’s an off-night so a break is forced on me.

My final thought is this: for everyone who is clamoring for us to give away the farm to get starting pitching (which we don’t need), there’s an adage in the programming world that putting more programmers onto a project that’s in trouble only increases the risk. On the other hand, I would give just about anything to never have to see Shoen-sucks (credit TBF) or ‘Forfeit’ (credit Coop) ever, ever again.