Turnabout is foul play.
Bleah, bleah, bleah…ptui! I spit out this horrible ending to what could have been a beautiful game.
Willie Harris pulling an Endy out of his grabhole — leaving ample room for the shoving up of any bats we haven’t already wished plunged high, far and deep up Chipper/Teixeira way — and robbing Carlos Delgado of a game-tying, Shea-boggling homer was the defensive equivalent of Brian Jordan ruining our 2001 season twice. It was also a rude response to our gorgeous ninth-inning dousing of their flickering hopes, a brilliant event not even 24 hours old, now consigned to back of the fridge with the expired half-brick of cream cheese you don’t even remember buying.
How can people stay mad at Barry Bonds when it’s clearly Willie Harris who has ruined baseball?
We make a hard stand Wednesday night and break their black little hearts. Then we stir up a next-afternoon comeback for the ages, like something out of May 17. No right or reason to expect it, but it’s getting delivered. We sent six batters to the plate in the ninth and they all reached base…or almost made it. Gotay, Reyes and Wright did their jobs. Castillo’s high chopper required only a bit of Tartan Turf to have injected him into the rally for real. Even Alou, having been lubricated with a generous dose of 3-In-One, nearly beat out a ground ball to short. Delgado you know about. Delgado you know probably had a homer taken away by this bedbug Willie Harris. Maybe it was just a long double, but it was probably four bases and a tie score. Instead, we registered three runs and three outs when four and two were the respective minimum and maximum permissible in today’s ninth.
Imagine the Braves blowing a 7-3 lead like that. Imagine a 7-7 tie and all the momentum shifting our way. Imagine actually taking a series from these bastards.
You’d better not. You’ll become violent.
Don’t imagine anything. Instead, realize the reality of the situation. Three-and-a-half-game lead and all, the key numbers are these: six games left against Atlanta and 42 against everybody else. The Mets are advised to kick the ever-lovin’ spit out of everybody else in those other 42 in order to secure their second consecutive Eastern Division title and another shot at the belt because I have no confidence, none, that they’ll handle the Braves in the other six. Not after four series comprised of one win and two losses every time. I thought we buried this bullshit last year. Apparently we have not.