Wow did I ever have a weird dream this morning.
I'd gone back to sleep for a little bit, but it was a couple of hours until game time, and that must have been weighing on my mind, because I dreamt a whole baseball game in my head. And not a good one.
You know how lots of dreams begin with some kind of real-world event that you're still wrestling with? That's how this one started: It was Oliver Perez and Jeff Suppan, just like Game 7 of the NLCS, only this time Suppan was on some other team and it wasn't for the all the marbles, it was just a game like any other. And Suppan pitched terribly, but Oliver pitched even worse — one of those classic O.P. messes where you wind up looking through your fingers while Willie steams in the dugout. And then when they finally took him out, no one else could pitch either. Not Sosa and not Joe Smith — and get this, they both got pounded by Gabe Kapler. Yeah, Gabe Kapler. I knew I was dreaming because Gabe Kapler's retired and managing in Single-A for the Red Sox somewhere, but in my dream he was bashing Met pitchers like he was Pat the Bat.
And the Mets couldn't hit at all. Well, they could but it kept not mattering. I started keeping track because it got so crazy — in my dream, they got the leadoff man on in the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth — and hit into double plays in the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh. I know, insane, right? And then in the eighth, I dreamed Guillermo Mota came in to pitch for the other team, and he was overthrowing and stalking around the mound and being Guillermo Mota, and it was clear the Mets were about to pound him and take the lead again, and I briefly thought this was turning into a good dream, only Luis Castillo grounded out to first and Brady Clark tried to go home for some reason and was out and then Mota walked two guys and Delgado came up with the bases loaded and flied out and we got nothing. Oh, it was infuriating. I had to remind myself it was just a dream, the way you can do sometimes without waking up. (Yeah, Luis Castillo. I keep dreaming about him — remember the dream I had this winter that we resigned him to a four-year deal even though he's a terrible hitter with no range and one working leg? Man, I'd take a dozen bad dreams like this morning's instead of having that one be true.)
Oh, and David Wright got a Gold Glove and then looked horrible even on routine throws. I know, ironic right?
Anyway, finally I woke up and it took me a minute to realize it really was all a dream, and there was no game today, just this inexplicable two-day break before we play the Nats. Which I'd been thinking was weird ever since the schedule came out, but thank goodness. Because if a game like this really happened, I think it would frustrate me to the point of insanity.