Another night, another garbage-time thriller .
Amazing — the last non-nailbiter this team played was Sunday's 4-1 defeat of the Braves, and even that was interesting for our Insta-Offense and as a showcase for The Eventual Met, aka Tom Glavine 2.0. Of course, this one could have been wrapped up without quite so many thrills — maaaaan, Looper has that bullpen so screwed up nobody can close — but Carlos Baerga's blast was quickly one-upped by Carlos Beltran's blast, so no big whoop. Our Carlos B. beat their Carlos B., and everyone went home happy. (OK, half the fans, anyway.)
I'm off for DC myself to visit friends, by which I of course mean “drag them to the ballpark to see a 4th-place team battle a 5th-place team.” And to root the boys on as we pursue more modest goals. Like we're 76-77 and they're 78-76. Let's stay out of last, even if we would be the best darn last-place team in recent history.
Speaking of which, a recent conversation with my son:
Joshua: Are the Mets on?
Me: Yes. Those are the Mets. See them?
Joshua: We don't like the Yankees.
Me: No, we sure don't.
Me: Ummmm. Because we like the Mets. And you can't like both.
Joshua: But we like the Cyclones.
Me: Yes, we like the Cyclones.
Joshua: We like the Mets and the Cyclones.
Me: That's right!
Joshua: Are the Cyclones on?
Me: No. They're not playing any more. Their season is over.
Me: Because they don't play as long as the Mets do.
Joshua: But the Mets are on.
Me: That's right. Our season goes for about two more weeks. And then the Mets won't play any more until next year.
Me: Well…there are 30 baseball teams, and only the best [uh-oh, pause for math] eight get to play in October. And, well, this year we're not one of the best eight.
Me: Well, that's complicated.
He'll start learning soon enough. By the way, the kid can kind of hit. God bless recessive genes.