666 is SO 6/6/06. On June 7, it was all about .667.
Two outta three, two outta three, two outta three. If the Mets wanna do a three outta four this weekend, nobody here would argue the point. But after one hellish night, we'll take our two of three and pack for Phoenix with no complaints.
Win more series than you lose. When you lose a series, as we did to the Giants, pick yourself up, dust yourself off and start winning series all over again the way we just completed doing against the Dodgers. That's a habit to which we had grown accustomed when we were recently routinely (if often dramatically) taking two of three from the Yankees, two of three from the Phillies, two of three from the Marlins and two of three from the Diamondbacks. That's five series out of six. If that's a lifestyle choice, it's a good one.
The 666 thing, the business about omens and demons and whatnot, is the day before yesterday's news. Sure, Rafael Furcal is Satan for certain, but he was only one of nine opposing batters. Tom Glavine, pitching more than badly enough to lose, held up against the rest of the Dodger order just well enough to be rescued by his jury-rigged lineup. Glavine got a win he didn't really deserve? How's that for throwing the change-of-pace?
Any Met win is a great win but any Met win that includes major contributions from the village elder — Julio Franco starts, drives in two and scores a third from first — and the Milledge child — Lastings triples home Julio, homers home two more and guns down Garciaparra at second on a pea from left — eases gnawing concerns that this will be the roadtrip from hell. Or to hell. Hopefully, it will be just another visit to the dry heat of Arizona. 2-1 down, four to go.
One at a time and all that, but would a series sweep be too much to ask for? You know, just for the heck of it.