The beach? Lovely.
The Mets? Did I mention the beach was lovely?
We're staying for the week on Long Beach Island, one of our favorite places in the world between the beach, the general atmosphere of non-New York Cityness, the best beach burger place a body could ask for (Woodies) and, oh yeah, the fact that LBI has SNY on its cable system and is comfortably within WFAN range.
This is the first time we've been here in June -– normally we arrive after Labor Day (and will do so this year for an encore). Our first time here we stayed in a motel and heard the newborn Jose Reyes beat the then-mighty Braves with two home runs and some sterling defensive play. Other years haven't been as Met-friendly: 2005's LBI trip saw the end of the Mets as playoff contenders, including the still-harrowing game in which Braden Looper blew two saves in the same game. Last September the Mets were quietly jogging to a division title.
This year we're staying with a gang of friends in a huge house, one whose owners have outfitted it with multiple HDTVs and an audio system that I'm pretty sure could land the space shuttle if I could just find the right button combination on the right remote, which I can't. (Oddly, for all its A/V wizardry the house doesn't have high-speed Net access, which is why this post is link-free.)
I also need to find the remote that makes the team play better. Because Jeez Louise do the Mets suck right now.
It's been a while since we've had to endure this -– the nauseous certainty that something and in fact everything will go wrong. 3-0 lead? It won't last. Starting pitcher looks sharp early? The bullpen will blow it. There's evidence of clutch hitting? It'll be lost in the property room by the mid-innings.
Watching the Tigers, I wasn't sure what would happen first: Would we be pummeled into submission by the likes of Placido Polanco and Gary Sheffield, or would our wounded outfielders would be finished off by birds? Is it too late to do away with interleague play? When you win, it's a novelty. When you lose, it's an injustice. And we won one of those games.
And now L.A. — back in the National League, albeit in the middle of the night. Sour anger kept me awake until the eighth inning of the first game; I woke up hours later staring at some middle-of-the-night SNY nonsense and knew, without having to check, that there hadn't been a rally. Last night I resolved to make a better showing, but my eyelids were drooping by the time Maine took on the bottom part of the order. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! That woke me up briefly, even as it put the Mets to sleep.
I knew they'd lose. You knew they'd lose. If they'd been told what had just happened, those seagulls on the field in Detroit would have known they'd lose. I turned the game off in disgust and was asleep within seconds, and this morning when Joshua asked me if the Mets had won, I said for the first time in a long time that I didn't know.
But I did know. To confirm, I negotiated with the A/V system until SNY appeared. The highlights were starting. I saw Delgado drive in Wright again, and then heard that that was just about all the offense of the night. Fantastic.
One more in L.A. Then the Yankees, now out of the coffin and dangerous again. Then all the other 2006 AL playoff teams and the rest of this nightmare month. Before Hell Month started, I'd steeled myself to remember that a .500 month would be just fine, that going 3-2 and 4-3 in the postseason is the road to victory.
A .500 month? We should be so lucky.
When the best a Mets fan can say is “Hey, at least the Braves lost, too”, that's kinda sad.
But, hey, at least the Braves lost, too.
… to the team we'll be facing right after the Yankees.
No trip to LBI is complete without a visit to the Terrace Tavern for the world's best buffalo wings, bar none. I don't want to hear about the Anchor Bar, or anywhere else. They're hot but not overwhelmingly so, they're sort of sweet without being cloying… they are, quite simply, one of the best things I have ever eaten.
Haven't been down in a couple of years but the Terrace is my favorite bar, great atmosphere, the rest of the grub is pretty good also. I heartily recomend happy hour, the aforementioned wings (and a host of other appetizers) are half-price at the bar.
I have nothing to say about our ballclub. Nothing good, anyway. Nothing like going into Yankee Stadium on a 2-10 skein.
Amen, Sky King!
Terrace Tavern has long been a favorite of SarahH, and she revealed its charms to me, so now I'm a fan as well. That's the first place I ever had a buffalo burger, in fact. We have the pint glasses from 2000 through 2004.
It's had a couple of ownership changes the past couple of years and was in danger of closing last year…
Great place, the Missus and I started going when we rented a house on LBI summers of 91 and 92. Haven't had a place down there since, but we used to make several pilgrimages a year just for wings (and lots of ice-cold Yuengling on tap for me). Pint glasses, t-shirts, sweatshirts… we got it all!
I was bummed to hear about the possible closure, I heard they were also thinking of selling in the early 2000s, too, I guess when the owners divorced.
Man, I am jonesing for a basket of wings right now.
Good thing you referred to our recent schedule only as Hell Month and not, as a Cincy broadcaster did in reference to his own team, in comparison to the Bataan Death March.
I can only imagine what kind of metaphors are going through Keith's head right now.
It's funny, the Twins don't seem to have any trouble at all with the Braves. It borders on comical, how easily they're handling them.
I live within 10 miles of the Anchor Bar, and as with most such legends, the hype has overtaken the reality. Now according to Gary Cohen this weekend, a former Syracuse pitcher on the Tiger staff owns a restaurant near the SkyChiefs stadium called the Change of Pace, which has, in his words, “the best wings on the planet.” Sometime between now and July 19 I shall investigate that.