The Roberto Alomar trade aside, is there anything about the Cleveland Indians to stir the blood of Mets fans? Has an Indians diehard ever gotten up in arms about what’s transpiring at Shea Stadium or Citi Field?
When Mets-Indians actually compares favorably to such epic tilts as Mariners-Cardinals, Blue Jays-Padres and … ZZZZZ, oh, I’m sorry, I dozed off there, where was I … Rangers-Marlins, do you have to be a cynic to say that for the most part interleague play is a strained, stupid gimmick?
Do those casual-dress business guys in the insanely great seats behind the net at field level ever ACTUALLY WATCH THE FREAKING GAME? I mean, those seats are better than the batboy’s, and tonight I saw one of those guys pay attention to the field for perhaps six seconds total.
Speaking of the seats that are an order of magnitude better than any I’ll ever sit in, why is there a TV in there? YOU’RE ESSENTIALLY SITTING ON THE WARNING TRACK! WHY DO YOU NEED A TV? Why not give the left fielder one too?
Does it bother anyone else that while you’re watching your TV, you can see the TV that gives the people in the great seats another way to not watch the game, and that TV is a second behind your own TV? Because doesn’t that imply if you got really close you could see another littler TV on the little TV you can see while watching your own TV, and that littler TV would be yet another second behind? Which means with a TV of infinitely good resolution you could go down a wormhole of tinier and tinier TVs, each further and further behind live action. So how far back could you ultimately see? Would you glimpse Bob Feller in his prime? Steamships and fur traders? Dinosaurs?
Even when such ineptitude suits your own purposes, isn’t it quietly depressing to see teams play baseball as badly as the Orioles and the Indians play it?
Why do some people still exalt Manny Acta as a great manager? Granted, I’ve put in about three hours of work watching the Indians. But they sure look like the Nationals under Acta’s watch, reliably making dopey errors as well as ugly physical ones. Doesn’t a general air of distraction and dimwittedness eventually start to reflect on the manager?
Granted, it took a dozy play by Russell Branyan to make it possible, but how about Jose Reyes scoring from second on an infield hit by David Wright? Have you ever seen a runner go around the third-base coach on his way home? Me neither!
For anyone who doubts baseball is unfair, how does Wright collect two RBIs on a bouncer to Jason Donald that a better shortstop would have converted into an out, while Angel Pagan hits a laser right to Branyan’s glove and gets a complimentary trudge back to the dugout? Pagan’s ball was the hardest hit that inning, even including Ike Davis’s summer homer.
Speaking of Ike Davis, how happy is he that his bunt up the third-base line was near-perfect instead of perfect?
Does it amuse anyone else that when he’s at the plate Ike Davis looks like he’d rather be anywhere else? He looks like a husband who’s convinced himself to knock a wasp’s nest off a branch and into a garbage can, after which he’ll put the lid on real quick.
Have you seen a more discouraging game for a middle infielder in recent memory than Jason Donald’s? If he wasn’t making errors, he was making throws that arrived at first half a step after Met runners.
Am I a bad Mets fan for not being surprised that Francisco Rodriguez nearly blew it? OK, am I a bad Mets fan for being grimly certain that K-Rod will manage to blow others? If you’re still with me, am I a bad Mets fan for thinking that Francisco Rodriguez is a shell of his former self, a horrible closer, and heartbreak waiting to happen?
When things are going this well, doesn’t it somehow seem perfectly natural that a mediocre starting performance, lousy appearance by a closer and a bushel of infield hits would add up to a victory?