Ladies and gentlemen, the blog is not burning.
I was sitting in my office shortly after 8 AM preparing just the right words to describe the thrill of being at last night's glorious victory when I happened to notice the smell of smoke and the sound of an alarm and, wiz that I am, eventually put the two together. In short, there was a fire in another apartment in our building. So, in honor of the man whose name is on the shirt I'm still wearing after having fallen asleep in it, I ran like Jose Reyes…or as much as I can run like Jose Reyes. After a lot of standing around in the parking lot and witnessing some everyday heroics from our local FD, everything is essentially fine. Nobody was hurt, the cats have been accounted for and we're able to close and lock our door (those rescue guys wield a heavy axe).
The air is a little crispy, but that 12-inning balkoff/blastoff still rates a few “hot damn!”s. They'll be en route soon enough.
When you smell and hear something, don't think it's something else. Just get moving. A public service announcement from the only Mets blog endorsed by Smoky Burgess.