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Ace Santana, Met Corrective

Tuesday night's was the kind of game that's worthy of intricate dissection. But if you attempted to dissect it, you'd just take the scalpel to your eyes in an effort to forget what you just saw [1].

You wouldn't forget a thing, however. You wouldn't forget how a 7-0 lead became an 8-7 loss across thirteen of the unluckiest innings in inhuman history. You wouldn't forget an offense that operated on bankers' hours, closing after four. You wouldn't forget that Damion Easley had the game of his life and that it was absorbed in a hostile takeover by the game of Chris Coste's life. You wouldn't forget a Hall of Fame starter undone by the schoolyard dimensions of the playground to which he was assigned for the evening. You wouldn't forget the double plays or the lefts-on-base or how three steely innings of Aaron Heilman dissloved into a long single to center off Scott Schoeneweis seconds after the world's first intentional strikeout by Brett Myers.

You'd just be missing your eyes.

So put down the scalpel and by all means protect your vision. You'll need it tonight to see what staff ace Johan Santana does to answer a question that, at Mets 7 Phillies 0, appeared ridiculous [2]: How do we get even in this series and back into first place after probably the worst loss ever etched into the annals of worsts, losses, etchings or annals?

Do what you're supposed to do, Ace. After a Rollinsian debacle of Rogersesque proportions, we require all the help we can afford.