Did you enjoy tonight's game, Jace?
No, I did not.
Where to start? How about because the Mets sucked again and because they took forever to suck this time?
The Dodgers didn't look that great either, though.
No, they didn't. But as Greg likes to note, style points don't matter. They won. Jeff Kent and Joe Torre and Juan Pierre and Hong-Chih Kuo and Brad Penny and Nomar Garciaparra and the whole vaguely disagreeable lot of them.
The Mets took an early lead, did some hitting, showed some daring baserunning. That was good.
Yeah. An early lead that they blew.
But David Wright turned in some nifty plays at third.
He did. He saved Nelson Figueroa's bacon a couple of times. On the other hand, a good first baseman would have speared Blake DeWitt's two-run single in the third. Carlos Delgado is not a good first baseman. Fielding giveth, fielding taketh away.
OK, but you've got to like Nelson's guts and guile. He's pitching his heart out there every time.
Yeah, he's a journeyman with brains and toughness, and every romantic baseball fan is a sucker for those guys — the Rick Reeds and Brian Bohanons and late-model Frank Tananas of the baseball world. It's a bit of a myth, though — you think Johan Santana doesn't work his butt off to outthink hitters too? He does, he just has better stuff. Your cliched find-catcher-and-chuck-it guys — the Nuke LaLooshes of this world — aren't really all that common. Well, there's Oliver Perez. He sure as hell does get woolly, doesn't he? Sure, I like Figueroa. I also would have liked to see him get past those second outs a little more easily, and last more than five innings. On the other hand, this game took so frigging long, he was in danger of dying of old age out there.
That fatal play wasn't his fault, though. Wasn't that something?
It was something all right. The next time I see a hitter get an inside-the-park home run because the right fielder is sitting on the warning track thinking the ball was a home run of the regulation variety will be the second time. The next time something like that is the difference that beats the Mets? I'll be happy never to see that again.
But c'mon, Ryan Church has been great this year.
Hey, no argument there. You want to know the funny thing? It's that every night I thank God for Church, because he isn't Shawn Green. Nothing against Green as a person, just against him as a right fielder. Remember all those balls last year that would drop five or 10 feet in front of him, because he never seemed to get a good read on balls and his first step was so slow? Ryan Church doesn't do that — he's got good range, a great arm and fine instincts out there. That said, here's the thing: Didn't Blake DeWitt's drive remind you at least a little of Scott Spiezio's triple off Guillermo Mota, the one that hit Green in the wrist? Ugh. Just ugh. Stupid Guillermo Mota.
But Moises Alou stole home! How cool was that?
Very cool. If we'd won, I'm sure I'd be waxing rhapsodic about it. The title of this post would be something like “Holy Moises!” (Though I bet we've used that before.) But we didn't win.
I don't get you, Jace. Last night you tried to get all misty-eyed and profound about a 5-1 Met loss. Tonight the Mets lose by one run on a freak play and you're lousy company. Why? Because what?
Because we're coming up on the calendar anniversary of the day my team started to play far below its talent, and I'm sick of it. Because I can't see any indication that anybody who makes decisions about my team is as sick of it as I am, and intends to step in and change things before it's too late. Because two years ago this team looked like it couldn't wait to get to the park and play baseball, and now they look like they can't wait to stop. Because this could be their best chance to forge the kind of cohesive team that's a contender year-in and year-out, and that chance is slipping away because those who do lead this team can't and those who could lead this team don't. Because I'm fucking tired, OK? Just plain tired, because it's two in the morning, and tired of dead-ass baseball no matter what time it's played. Is that enough for you? Cause it sure as hell is enough for me.