It wasn't so long ago.
Ramon Castro, our beloved Round Mound of Pound, had taken Ugie Urbina deep to win an Aug. 30 thriller and pull us within half a game of the wild card. The next night, Pedro Martinez was on the mound against Brett Myers, he of the ludicrous shaved head, Friendly's waitress black [...]
You tell me to come back with fourth place, I come back with fourth place.
Not saying that you didn't warn me, but man is RFK a dump. It looks like a domed stadium with the dome missing. It looks like the Vet on downers. There's the seasick undulation of the upper-deck seats, the strange coloring/intensity/angle/something [...]
There's two ways to look at the Mets' winning come lately:
1) After their season- and soul-crushing 3-15 skid, they've revived themselves nicely to win six of their last eight, most recently Saturday night's triumph at the Federal Baseball Penitentiary in Washington.
2) They've lost 17 of their last 26 and no amount of wins over teams [...]
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, [...]
The year was 1995. I was 32.
But after a while, who’s counting? Seriously, you get to a stage in life where you have to stop and think when you’re asked how old you are if you’re asked at all. For that matter, sometimes you’re not sure what year it is. One just blends into the [...]
This is the exciting conclusion of 1995. Part I appears in a previous post.
There was one week remaining in the season and I had a ticket for one more game. Actually, I had eight tickets. In ’93, I had the bright idea to lead the magazine on an outing to Shea. It went over so [...]
Never mind the duel that never quite developed or that Dontrelle Willis pitched splendidly, batted seventh and probably dragged the infield or that we lost. Thursday night wasn't about that.
This is what it was about.
Carlos Beltran comes to bat in the bottom of the fourth with one out and the score tied. The boos commence. [...]
Dearly beloved, when Rupert here was a student at the Clifton High School, none of us — myself, his teachers, his classmates — dreamt that he would amount to a hill of beans. But we were wrong, and you, Rupert, you were right. And that’s why tonight, before the entire nation, we’d like to apologize [...]
So Jack McKeon played the game under protest because the lighting changed when Carlos Delgado walked to the plate against the mighty Tim Hamulack. Awww. I rooted the game under protest when Willie let Braden Looper out of the bullpen. I withdrew my protest a bit later; Jack may as well do the same.
The award [...]
I spent Tuesday evening with some tremendous New York National League baseball fans. But I wasn't at Shea. Wasn't even watching the Mets. I had to pick up our game in transit and in fragments from the eighth inning on.
This was a night for New York Giants baseball and the quarterly (more or less) meeting [...]