It’s wonderful to be a Mets fan right now. It really is. While everybody tells jokes, the Mets have assembled a Quadruple-A lineup of guys who don’t do too much but do just enough, playing the game the right way, not shooting themselves in the foot and —
DICKEY! WOULD YOU NOT DO THAT? I KNOW KNUCKLEBALLS ARE CRUEL MISTRESSES AND SOME NIGHTS THE THINGS JUST WON’T DO WHAT YOU NEED THEM TO DO, BUT NOT TONIGHT! NOT WITH A CHANCE TO SWEEP THE BRAVES AND MOVE A GAME OVER .500!
Ahem. As I was saying, the Mets are playing within themselves, despite missing key players and facing financial uncertainty. Leading the way tonight, as usual, was the marvelous Jose Reyes, who seems like he can do anything that needs doing at any point in any game. It’s an absolute pleasure to —
MURPH! LOVE YOU, BUT YOU NEED TO PLAY FIRST BASE, NOT SOME IMAGINARY POSITION THAT’S NOT REALLY FIRST AND NOT REALLY SECOND! STUFF LIKE THAT COULD COME BACK TO BITE US, YOU KNOW!
Could we keep it down over there? Justin Turner, AKA Ginger Thunder, was back and on base any which way he needed to be, and Jason Bay showed more signs of coming around, turning in much more confident at-bats and racking up his second straight multiple-hit game. And then there was Scott Hairston, nearly forgotten, cranking a three-run bomb into the left-field stands to finish a comeback from four runs down. And the bullpen was spectacular, what with Manny Acosta (of all people) and Pedro Beato and Tim Byrdak and Jason Isringhausen and —
K-ROD! NOOOOO! AUGGHHHHH!!!!!! THAT WAS SO NOT SPECTACULAR! THAT COMPLETELY SUCKED!
Look — I have the floor here. It sure helped that the Braves played the kind of game that’s typically followed by Coach driving the station wagon angry and not making jokes or letting you tune the radio until even the dumb kid figures out that the usual postgame trip to the Tastee-Freez isn’t happening today. Fredi Gonzalez is well on his way to actually becoming Bobby Cox: He’s dumpy and looks perpetually unhappy and fumes and carps and fusses at umps and engages in low-level gamesmanship all the time. Which is —
DUDA! DIDN’T WE JUST COVER THIS WITH MURPHY!!!!
That’s enough outbursts. Sheesh! Even after K-Rod’s lamentable homer surrendered to Brooks Conrad, I had faith. The Mets weren’t playing efficiently, but they’d pull out a wild and woolly one somehow. As usual, I put my faith in Reyes. It seemed entirely possible that he would hit a home run because he had to, or steal second and then steal third and then force some hapless Brave who knew better to balk in a —
Ugh. After which we never, ever spoke of it again.