To elaborate on a great metaphor offered by one of our esteemed commentators a few days back, the commercials are finally over and the house lights are going down. It isn't time for the movie, not quite yet, but the previews are about to start. And thank goodness. Yes yes, I know where the receptacles are and am aware trash goes in them. I have silenced my cellphone. I understand that a generation of no-smoking laws weren't repealed this afternoon. Could we please GET ON WITH IT?
Well, no, not quite yet we can't. But come next weekend, we will have actual (though still meaningless) games to discuss. We will have WFAN broadcasts with Howie to dissect. Gary won't be along just yet, but apparently (news via Bloomberg via Metsblog) when he arrives Greg and millions of others will be able to see him, meaning I don't have to worry about my co-blogger setting fire to himself on the lawn of Cablevision headquarters.
In the meantime, because we're antsy, some bits and pieces to tide us over before the previews arrive, which will satisfy us for approximately 30 more seconds before our case of the fidgets returns. (I'm so tired of playing the Dodgers! I'd do anything to see a game without pitchers running in the outfield! I can't sleep until I know if the 25th guy will be Endy Chavez or Tike Redman!)
Think of these as some Milk Duds stuck in the box before we tear into the popcorn in earnest:
In the Daily News, Adam Rubin discusses Jose Reyes, including how hard Reyes worked to teach himself English and how he did his first interview without a translator just five days after his debut. No one knew Rey Ordonez spoke English for years, and we learned when he told us we were all stupid. Reyes's nicely colloquial get-thee-thither to David Wright: “Beat it. Why do you have to be like that, man? Geez.” I love Jose Reyes. (And it being a new year, I'm struck once again by his eerie resemblance, one obvious characteristic aside, to Ziggy from “The Wire.”)
Willie joked that he's giving Brian Bannister an extra look because “I used to own his old man.” Actually Willie hit .188 off Floyd Bannister. Like I told you, Skip ain't one for stats.
Bobby Bonilla came to visit. Isn't this why Boondocks Field or whatever it's called has security guards? Arm them. Give them dogs. Do what needs to be done.
The other day David Wright told John Harper that “you see so many guys get caught up in the work aspect of [baseball], like they're coming to work every day. It's not that tough. Both my parents worked nine to five. The worst day on the baseball field is better than any day off it.” The more I read about David Wright, the less convinced I am he actually had parents. I think he strolled out of the cornfield after Kevin Costner showed his faith by sitting on the bleachers half the night. God bless David Wright.
Then there's Cliff Floyd, who's allergic to dissembling or being dull, in that great Keith Hernandez/Wally Backman tradition. Here he is on starting spring training facing lefties, unredacted since this isn't a family newspaper: “It sucked. But what the hell? It's good to see what those lefties look like. I sucked vs. lefties last year anyway.” God bless Cliff Floyd too. May He keep Cliff healthy, out of rehab assignments in “that hole,” and arrange that any astonishingly expensive earrings he happens to drop be swiftly found.
And that's that. In another week we'll have in-depth analyses of why Henry Owens must make the team and how Jeremi Gonzalez's two-inning stint reminded us of our childhoods and/or particle physics. Hang in there, baby. We're almost home.