Tuesday, September 23, 2008

I CAN’T EXPLAIN.

I’m going to immediately love any pitcher who uses the Who as their intro music. And I was willing to believe, to look at an inspirational quote from Scott frickin’ Schoeneweis, of all people (even though we already know that HE CONSORTS WITH THE ENEMY) and think that the Mets were going to come home and put their noses to the grindstone and just make it happen, even with a rookie pitcher and a team dragging in from a catastrophic road trip.

And I was still optimistic last night, and feeling slightly better, well enough to eat my soup while watching the game even after I said I was going straight to bed, sending inspirational text messages to TBF, sitting in the upper deck, when Delgado got home on that wild pitch. That was the kind of thing I wanted to see this week.

You can probably guess when I turned the TV off and went to bed.

I have a bag full of long sleeves and polar fleece and wool socks and gloves and I am heading out to Shea tonight and plan on being there the rest of the week.

Really.

P.S. MOISES ALOU, STAY OUT OUT OF THE DUGOUT, YOU MIGHT BE CONTAGIOUS