It was but five cold winters ago that the Mets didn't sign Vladimir Guerrero. They had a chance, it would have been a popular move, it seemed like it could get done, but it didn't happen. A fair swath of Metsopotamia was disgruntled yet probably not surprised.

Five cold winters later, the Mets don't seem to be signing Manny Ramirez. They have a chance, it would be a popular move, it seems like it could get done, it's not happening. A fair swath of Metsopotamia is disgruntled, yet probably a bit surprised.

My, how times have changed.

There was a Million Manny March on SNY's studios last week. Well, thirty or so guys, but word is they're gonna try it again. Hail to thee, marchers. You're not going to change the mind of Minaya or a single Wilpon, but it is the Metsopotamian way to express oneself in the face of overwhelming odds. As Stanley Cohen wrote in A Magic Summer, “Let's Go Mets” was chanted hardily at the Polo Grounds with the Mets down thirteen in the ninth during one game in 1963: “It was a simple and joyous act of defiance, the declaration of a will that would not surrender to the inevitable.” You can draw a straight line from the “'Go!' Shouters” Roger Angell immortalized in 1962 to the Manny marchers who are urging management to ante up for Ramirez.

The Mets weren't going anywhere in 1962. And, unless his price tag is severely reduced, they're not going anywhere near Manny Ramirez in 2009.

Funny thing, I think, is that a lot of us keep believing the Mets might sign him anyway. It's funny because of where the Mets were five years and one month ago — in a similar situation. That winter's hot free agent megastar was sitting out there in an ice-cold market and the Mets were the kid in gym class who's among the three left on the dodgeball court because everybody else has gotten himself knocked out through self-defeating aggression or a desire to sit in the bleachers and chill. Five years and one month ago, the Mets waited out all others' disinterest and found themselves with the ball.

A lowball. That's what Jim Duquette lobbed at Vladimir Guerrero. His people caught it, forcing the Mets out of the game. Then Vladdy became an Angel.

It felt like folly to think the Mets could have signed the great Guerrero, because the Mets of January 2004 didn't do stuff like that. It was possible, but highly improbable. Now, as Matchbox Twenty put it before every home game last year, let's see how far we've come.

We've come to the point where the Mets sign high-profile free agents you've heard of (a category that never included Kaz Matsui, inked in that Guerrero-free off season). We've come to the point where the Mets don't leave you with the impression they have considerable budgetary constraints. We've come to the point where we don't wish and hope the Mets would someday sign a player the caliber of Manny Ramirez. We've come to the point where many of us expect and demand the Mets right now sign a player the caliber of Manny Ramirez.

The Mets have acquired — since passing on Guerrero — Pedro Martinez, Carlos Beltran, Carlos Delgado, Billy Wagner, Johan Santana and Francisco Rodriguez. These are not the Shane Spencer/Karim Garcia Mets. It's a sea change in both reality and perception. Five years and one month ago, were you honestly shocked at who your right field platoon turned out to be?

Five years and one month later, aren't you a little shocked that some combination of Muprhy/Evans/Tatis (M/E/T for short) will probably be your leftfielder? When Manny Ramirez and all those RBI remain unclaimed? Isn't this what the Mets of this era do, get their man? Don't they make men like Manny their man?

Manny Ramirez is not an unalloyed page of good news in anybody's joy book. You remember how he lifted the Dodgers on his shoulders? Do you remember why he was suddenly so available, how he was suddenly making no effort no disguise his lack of seal for the proverbial dodgeball game in Boston? Do you remember seeing him play much left in any of his many seasons technically playing left? Do you care that nobody has ever accused T-E-A-M of being spelled with M-A-N-N-Y, regardless of the letters they have in common?

I'm not saying you should care or remember what is potentially unappealing — or extravagant — about signing Manny. Manny Ramirez is an extraordinary offensive player. The Mets could use some extraordinary offense. There are reasons to willfully cast aside the doubts and pick up a player like this who sits today without a team, just as there are reasons to willfully cast aside visions of run production and avoid him so as not to bring on Excedrin Headache No. 99.

What strikes me, whether they get him or not, is that it doesn't seem insane to think the Mets would sign Manny Ramirez, not as insane, sadly, as it seemed to think they might have signed Vladimir Guerrero.

***

But when you bring the latest chapter of the Citigroup saga into it, maybe it is.

I was in an early Tuesday morning fog when I noticed a blurb scrolling across the bottom of the Channel 4 news informing me that the Wall Street Journal was reporting America's favorite corporation was giving some thought to not plastering its name on the front and sides of the Mets' new ballpark. It was in such a fog from the same scroll that I learned Willie Randolph had been fired, so I rubbed my eyes and began paying attention.

It's just talk right now. Citigroup and the Mets have already knocked it down as untrue, which I take to mean as it is untrue…for now. Citigroup is a far less popular, far less sympathetic entity than it was two months ago when it was first getting bailed out. The private jet caper (if you want a good non-baseball laugh, by the way, read this spirited Mom & Apple Pie defense of private jets) didn't help, nor has the deepening economic mess made Taxpayers to Citi to Mets look nothing remotely like Tinkers to Evers to Chance. I still don't care for the simplistic political demagoguing — is there such a thing as complex political demagoguing? — but I like less, for our purposes, the damage this deal is doing to the Mets brand.

The Mets, I feel in my heart, would name their ballpark any wretched old thing short of Yankee Stadium if there were $20 million a year in it for them. As we've said time and again, who wouldn't? It's how business has been conducted in sports and America for years. What's more, there is a signed contract that declares the Mets shall play in a facility called Citi Field. Citigroup and the Mets are still using a very relevant term, “legally binding,” to describe their agreement. And sports franchises in big cities with large payrolls could sure use $20 million a year. Some of us march on SNY to emphasize it.

But this isn't good. This is no way good, and I don't mean philosophically anymore. There's lot of not good going around these days, but in the realm of Met, this pairing of our beloved team with this far less than beloved financial organization is just plain bad news now. Is it $20 million a year bad? I don't know how to measure that, but we're plainly seeing that all publicity is not necessarily good publicity. If the Mets get out to a 12-2 start and lead the East by 15 games at the break, maybe nobody will care. Maybe somebody will care, but we won't. We'll be too busy thrilling to what's going on inside Citi Field (whether each of us is there or not) to worry over brand-identity niceties.

Yeesh, though, and not philosophically. This isn't the 2006 discussion of whether it's right and proper to slap a company name on a ballpark. This is 2009 and there's a fierce recession in progress and there are companies that are taking our money after years of horrendous management and one of them is the company in bed with our team. It just doesn't work in the public eye — and the public eye is where it has to work, because the whole reason Citigroup should want to sponsor a baseball stadium for $20 million a year for 20 years is to market its brand to a public with less than firm confidence in its ability to run its affairs.

Big ol' Citi Field signs are not going to help in that regard in 2009. Whether it will be beneficial in 2028 is not relevant. The Citigroup image as it stands on the precipice of the next baseball season is a canker sore for both Citigroup and for the Mets right now and for however much of the future is foreseeable. Waving a ginormous Citi banner atop and around a decidedly upscale facility (which has been built on municipal land with New York City infrastructure investments and tax-free bonds, as the Journal points out) isn't going to make anybody look community-minded or particularly brilliant in the prevailing climate.

No way the Mets are blind to this. No way Citi is blind to this. No way we're going to a place called Citi Field for very long. Somebody might as well pay somebody off and figure a way out of this before the sore festers out of control. The Mets should and will get paid something substantial for their troubles. They are subject to that legally binding agreement, but they shouldn't have to cast a pox on their own house to cash in. From what I've seen, they've acted in good faith. They've done everything except insert the Citigroup Center tower into the skyline logo. At a time when the Citi mark looms as an overwhelming negative in the public's mind — even discounting chronically histrionic sorts and their hackish colleagues, is anybody applauding Citigroup these days? — it is ridiculous to ask somebody to nakedly embrace it. To do so, within the context of facility naming rights, is something approaching insanity.

The Mets don't have to bail on Citigroup altogether. They can still bank with them. They're welcome to advertise on the outfield wall. They can maintain a relationship. But the HEY LOOK! nature of Citi Field isn't going to do either partner any favor at a delicate juncture. There is legally binding and then there is the kind of face-spiting that costs you your nose. Surely there is a third way.

If the Mets don't get their 20 mil for 20 years, what will it mean to us? Oh, probably nothing good of a material nature. Books probably get cooked to the point of deep-frying in baseball, and there's no way a team that charges $15 for a simple parking space is going to be impoverished (especially with so many brand spanking new parking spaces coming to a former stadium near you), but the days of “just sign him” when a Manny Ramirez wanders by may have to be put on hold. Combine a potential alteration of the Citigroup deal with whatever the Wilpons have endured via the venal hand of Madoff (one assumes there can't help but be baseball fallout) and the Mets may have to think more than twice about how they build their team. What that means on the field is anyone's guess. The Tampa Bay Rays won a pennant last year with one of the lowest payrolls in the industry. Before that, they were one of the worst teams around. Money is both not everything and pretty good to have a lot of anyway.

The philosophical piece is, as noted, not top of mind, but you know what? Not one square of sod grows up dreaming of being planted in a ballpark named for a multinational conglomerate. You can fill in all the potentially pleasing replacements yourself; I'd vote for Shea Field, considering Bill Shea hasn't done an iota less to bring National League baseball to New York since September 28, 2008. If only that would be the silver lining. We're probably past that phase of innocence, however. Brace yourself for Petco East or worse.

Quick take on re-inking Oliver Perez: He's the devil we know.

He's also shy of his 28th birthday and left-handed. It's far from unprecedented for guys matching that description to harness their gifts and their natural southpawness in their late twenties and become pitchers for whom you thank your lucky stars while fans of previous employers gnash their teeth. Granted, there are also plenty of flaky lefties who harness nothing and become old flaky lefties. But I'm happy to accept Oliver's not-so-bad floor and dream about his ceiling. Ben Sheets was fun to dream about too, but Sheets-related dreams tend to turn into DL-related nightmares, Randy Wolf was Randy Wolf, and Jake Peavy … well, I covered that already.

The real issue is, again, the year is shaping up to feature lots of sixth-inning appearances by Met relievers. Maine has battled physical problems and bouts of Leiteritis (defined by medical professionals as suddenly forgetting how to pitch for an inning), Pelfrey is coming off an unprecedented workload, Oliver has far too many games where he spontaneously combusts into a vaporous cloud of walks and hit batsmen, and the fifth starter is the fifth starter. Even JHN (that's the way his name is spelled by the devout) will be coming off knee surgery. The '09 bullpen looks much better, but it's going to be asked to do quite a lot.

But hey, at least we have a starting four plus one TBD to grapple with. And now Omar can get back to trying to exile Luis Castillo and/or ponder one of the mashers still available to play a corner outfield spot. Because he's still going to do that, right?

And now back to the seats. Yes, the seats ordered while I was unemployed and possibly mildly insane have arrived — actually, they showed up during President Obama's inauguration speech, along with Fresh Direct. (Why must everything of import happen at the exact same time?)

As you can see, they're mezzanine seats — that was where I usually sat at Shea, not to mention it's the only color of Shea seat generally found in nature. And I was pleased by the pairing of 16 and 17, which is pretty iconic as far as consecutive numbers go in Met lore. (OK, there's 17 and 18, but 18 tries to cheap-shot 17 when it's time to take their picture.)

Less pleasant was that the seats arrived dirty — not dirty as in warehouse dust settling in a box, but dirty as in “I ain't sitting on that until it's scrubbed.” Which was the first WTF moment to creep into the experience. I decided it was the accumulation of detritus from all the rags wielded by surly, extortionist ushers over the years, which actually made me laugh for a moment. Until unboxing the seats revealed the second WTF moment — a loose bolt, as well as long bolts sticking out from the backs of the seats instead of being sawn down, leaving passing elbows and hips at risk. The third WTF moment was that the bolts attaching the seats to their L brackets (needed so the seats can sit on the floor instead of being affixed to the concrete of the row behind them) were put on with the bolt heads to the rear of the seats. (To be fair, the L brackets are very good quality.) The fourth WTF moment? The letter included with the seats didn't say what section or row they were from. I wanted to know — just like I assume anyone who cared enough to buy two seats from a former stadium would have wanted to know.

By my count, for nearly $1,000 that's four WTF moments too many.

Anyway, they're clean now. They'll be installed in the backyard when it gets warmer and I can con my father into coming up so the job gets done competently. When we bolt them to the deck we'll saw down the bolts and reattach the L brackets. It'll be awesome. It'll be exactly what I'd hoped for. And the 16 and 17 will always make me happy.

But still.

You can go round and round over the reasons why the seats arrived dirty, not assembled the way you would have expected and missing items that would have made them a lot nicer, just as Greg and I used to go round and round over why a day at Shea was frequently so much less than it should have been. Was the problem the accumulated decrepitude of the park, the incompetence of the outside agency that was supposed to keep the place up, or disdain on the part of the Mets for their paying customers? You got me. All I know is I paid a lot of money for something that should have been very special, and instead that something wound up only mostly special because someone, somewhere did a half-assed job. But you know what? It fits. My final relic from Shea Stadium turns out to sum up the Shea experience perfectly.

Ollie Perez reportedly back in the fold, three years pending physical.

Santana, Maine, Perez, Pelfrey, Some Other Guy.

If it's not an upgrade, at least it's familiar.

“Heaven? Whatever gave you the idea that you were in heaven, Mr. Valentine? This IS the OTHER PLACE!”

—”A Nice Place to Visit,” The Twilight Zone

The Mets play the Dodgers Monday night at 6:30 on SNY. They will win. They take on the Yankees Tuesday afternoon at 2:00 on SNY. They will win. Thursday night at 7:30, the Cardinals are the opponents…and the victims. The Mets will win.

They always win, as long as the game has already been played.

By my count, SNY has aired 41 Mets Classics or UltiMET Classics since taking to the air on March 16, 2006. This means the network has been broadcasting, including today, for 1,054 days and has found room on its busy schedule for 41 of what it considers classic Mets games.

Of course much of its programming has been taken up by new Mets games, three seasons' worth, give or take a dozen or so per annum that went to Fox or ESPN (SNY produces Channel 11's telecasts). And often those games are repeated the next day or, if it's an afternoon game, that very night. Almost every game is condensed into Mets Fast Forward as well. Throw in SNY's commitments to Mets studio and entertainment programming along with its other sports news and debate shows, to say nothing of myriad college basketball games and Heartland Poker Tour, and you can't reasonably expect a classic Mets game to be rebroadcast at the drop of a hat.

But we can expect more than 41 across three years. Even if 41 is a most pleasing Met number.

That total is a little misleading, actually. At least sixteen of them appear to be completely out of SNY circulation. Those would be the 1986 postseason wins, that season's division-clincher, the 1969 World Series victories and the complete 2006 NLDS. The September/October '86 deluxe set seemed to be our welcome gift in SNY's first year. The '69ers were dug out of an attic somewhere in '07 and presented in a similar fashion, as if to say “look what we've got!” There is less mystique to the Dodger series, but that was also a limited-run proposition.

So if we're not seeing those sweet sixteen, it leaves us with 25 Mets games in something approaching regular rotation, some more regular than others. From as best as I've been able to absorb from my monitoring of the situation, here are what we get to see as Mets Classics every now and again (and again and again) from the pre-SNY era:

1986 (1): @ San Diego, the 8-2-5 double play

1988 (1): vs. Philadelphia, the division clincher

1991 (2): vs. Los Angeles, Darryl Strawberry's homecoming; @ Philadelphia, David Cone's 19-strikeout performance

1997 (1): @ New York (A), Dave Mlicki's shutout

1998 (1): vs. Milwaukee, Mike Piazza's first Mets game

1999 (3): vs. Milwaukee, Robin Ventura's first grand slam of doubleheader in which he stroked two salamis; vs. New York (A), Matt Franco game-winning pinch-single; @ Cincinnati, Al Leiter wins one-game playoff (this 10/4/99 Classic seems to have gone the way of the '86 postseason)

2000 (2): @ Tokyo, Benny Agbayani grand slam beats Cubs; vs. Atlanta, ten-run eighth inning

2001 (1): vs. Atlanta, Mike Piazza's homer caps first home game following September 11

2005 (2): vs. New York (A), Dae-Sung Koo doubles off Randy Johnson; vs. Los Angeles of Anaheim, Marlon Anderson's inside-the-park home run

The following are from the SportsNet New York era, all but one of them labeled an UltiMET Classic:

2006 (6): vs. Atlanta, Pedro Martinez's 200th win; @ San Francisco, Mets overcome Barry Bonds' ninth-inning homer; vs. New York (A), David Wright's walkoff single; vs. Philadelphia, Carlos Beltran wins 16-inning marathon; vs. St. Louis, Carlos Delgado and Carlos Beltran power Mets to walkoff win; vs. Florida, Mets clinch division (this is labeled a Mets Classic)

2007 (3): vs. Colorado, Endy Chavez's drag bunt wins extra-inning affair; vs. Chicago, five-run ninth inning bests Cubs; vs. Giants, Carlos Delgado blasts homer after Armando Benitez balks Jose Reyes around the bases

2008 (2): vs. Florida, Fernando Tatis walkoff double; vs. Florida, Johan Santana twirls three-hit masterpiece on short rest in final Shea win

How do I say this without being unappreciative for being brought approximately two-dozen rousing Mets victories? Like this, I suppose:

I am sick of them. I have seen almost every one of them as much as I need to for now.

Show me something else. Show me other Mets wins. Show me a compelling Mets loss — that carries historical significance or serves as prelude to an ultimately happier ending — if you have to. Show me more Mets games is what I'm really getting at.

We're 41-0 in Mets Classics. We're at least 20-0 in the games that I've ascertained are more or less still among us. The Leiter game seems off the table. I'm not sure if I'm imagining the sixteen-inning one was UltiMETted; I think it was shown in truncated fashion, but I know I haven't seen it lately. The Phone Company Park game, wherein Brian Bannister pulls up lame, may have been retired after, like Brian himself, being run into the ground.

They've almost all been run into the ground. Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for a Mets win any time. But do they have to be the same Mets wins? As much as I can while away the hours floating on a cloud of timely hits and clutch outs in my mind, turning on SNY and knowing, by heart, the outcome kind of dulls the thrill. Easley's always gonna homer and Endy's always gonna put down that bunt against the Rockies. Jose is always gonna rattle Armando. Tatis…why is that a classic? I mean, yeah, a win in the twelfth, but the Late Randolph era? Really? And Pedro's 200th win? I love Pedro, I love that we got off to an incredible start in 2006, but we can be done caring about that one now.

This is tricky terrain to complain about. Before SNY, there wasn't much of any old Mets shown. MSG did a little good-faith stuff, like the Todd Pratt game with Murph & Cohen's radio call dubbed in, plus a few vintage highlight films, but MSG was never really in the Mets business. A million years ago, in 1986 for the 25th anniversary season, SportsChannel showed every yearly highlight film (including the ones that celebrated 50-112 campaigns). But nobody was superserving us.

Now nobody is superserving us correctly.

I appreciate that SNY has sort of, kind of tried to do right by us. The first time every one of the aforementioned Classics aired, it came off as anywhere from a moderate thrill to an immense thrill. It's just that there's a real law of diminishing returns at work here. David Wright tags Mariano Rivera in the ninth? On May 19, 2006, it was stupendous. By February 1, 2009, I'm stupefied to the point of having my senses dulled by it.

Half of these games feel exactly the same after a while. We win in our last at-bat or we beat the Yankees, perhaps in our last at-bat. It's the other half or the repertoire that make Mets Classics classic viewing. It's the curios. The Darryl returns to Shea game, which is on Monday night, is an exquisite example. There's a real End of the Empire feel to it, with '80s heroes and '90s nonentities meshing for one final lunge at contention (ultimately aborted, as becomes abundantly clear in the David Cone game). Piazza arriving feels like an accidentally uncovered gem that way. Yes, it has a hook, but we're dropping in on an otherwise inconspicuous game from a band of Mets that never won anything. It's a sneaky classic. It works despite Fran Healy.

Surely there are other games from 1998 or 1991 or any of the seasons that have yet to be deemed containing anything Classic. And surely there are more recent Snighworthy games that didn't air on Snigh. I love the ten-run inning, of course (though I love it a lot more with Gary Cohen than Gary Thorne; same for radio over TV where Marlon Anderson and Cliff Floyd against the Angels are concerned), but how about the Sunday night eleven-run inning from 2006, the one with two grand slams? That would be worth a few viewings. Or instead of the barrage of Pedro beating the Braves in early 2006, what about the Saturday game at Turner Field in midsummer when the Mets pounded the curse to dust once and for all, liberating us from the hell we always felt in Atlanta?

Those were, respectively, ESPN and Fox games. Might SNY have to pay extra to show them? Would it mean there'd be less inherent promotion of the SNY brand? I don't know if those are the problems, but those problems, if those are the problems, aren't my problem. The Mets network should be showing more Mets Classics, not less. They should be combing the archives and doing whatever it takes to fill their schedule with an abundance of Mets broadcasts from through the years, whether it's a great 2006 or 1986 year or a subpar 1996 or 1976 year. If they can't find full games, find footage. It's there. We've seen it on DiamondVision. We've seen it parceled out on Mets Weekly.

We all have a wish list, some of which is probably out of range. We're never going to see all nine innings of the Jimmy Qualls game. We're never going to see every one of Tom Seaver's 19 strikeouts against the Padres as they appeared on Channel 9. We're out of luck if we want games from 1962. But so much more could be shown. So much more can enrapture us and make us hungrier for the next new Mets game and so much more loyal to SNY not because we have to watch it but because we want to watch it.

I don't watch much MSG, but they do one thing brilliantly: MSG Vault. Al Trautwig hosts, usually with a guest, and shows parts of vintage games or promotional films from the Garden archives. Don't have a full 1968 Knicks game? They give us part of it and Trautwig explains it. Why can't the Mets do that? It's a great idea that demands to be ripped off at once. Show some 1965 highlights, bring in Jack Fisher, bookend it with something from some other season, pay Gary or Howie or Ron a few bucks…bam, you've got a show that makes Mets fans happy. Filleting Mariano Rivera isn't the only thing that gives us reason to smile.

SNY has, in many ways, been a boon to Mets fans. Their Web site has plenty of relevant video and mini-shows. They shine a deserving light on MetsBlog, which is more than any “mainstream” outlet would have done with any blog three years ago. I may be biased because I've written for and appeared on Mets Weekly, but I find that an entertaining show. I like Kids Clubhouse even more most of the time, and I'm a kid only at heart. The game telecasts themselves are top-notch. You can't go wrong with Gary, Keith, Ron and Kevin.

But what a waste this network is when it comes to deepening the well of Mets history. Showing the same 41 or 25 or however many games over and over is a start, not a finish.

Keep 'em coming, for crissake. And next Super Bowl Sunday, don't show another Beer Money marathon. A Mets fan always welcomes counterprogramming.

***

A Faith and Fear salute to the hardy souls who paid one more round of respects to the home of the Super Bowl III champions yesterday. Hundreds of Shea lovers did as promised and toured the demolition site/burial ground Saturday, no matter how cold, no matter how potentially dispiriting. It sounds and looks like it was a great time.

To read more about it, check out the report from our friend Kingman at Loge 13, along with perspectives from pal Zoe at Pick Me Up Some Mets and DyHrdMET at the appropriately named Remembering Shea. Newspaper coverage can be gleaned from Newsday, the the News and the Times (twice), with video via Channel 2 and NY1.

Way to go, Baseball-Feverites.

This Saturday at noon, what is left of Shea Stadium will be celebrated by the denizens of Baseball-Fever and all who wish to join them. They're meeting at noon on the Northern Boulevard side of the street, at the plaza where the traffic circle sat, if you're interested. The occasion will be marked by walking around, taking pictures and remembering that there used to be a ballpark there. So bring your camera and a few Kleenex.

I've been morbidly attracted to the photos the Feverites, Stadium Page and others have been posting with diligence since the evening of September 28. Shea was the focal point of my life 'til now, so I suppose its demolition is a once-in-a-lifetime event. It's hard not to look, probably harder than it has been to look. The only time I really felt as if something inside me was being demolished was when I saw the Gate E entrance teetering on the brink of extinction. Let's meet at Gate E, I liked to say. Now Gate E was being permanently shuttered into oblivion.

The Gate E slice of Shea is gone now and I really don't want to gaze up close at what little remains, even if this weekend is probably just about it for Ol' Blue. I was out there in mid-October when the shell of Shea was still intact but many of its guts had already been pretty well hollowed. I don't need to see any more. I appreciate what the organizers are doing — it's very sweet — but, man, I don't want my last glimpse of Shea to be its stump. I wasn't that thrilled that I got a peek of it in post-September 28 form. That's not how I want to remember it.

That, of course, is not how I'll remember it.

“You guys gather food for the big feast tonight. And maybe a little wine for the older kids.”

“Delicious wine?”

“Exactly.”

—Bart, allaying Nelson's fears, “Das Bus”

While we await the official release announcing the signing of Oliver Perez or Manny Ramirez or Adam Dunn or anybody who isn't Freddy Garcia or Alex Cora or Cory Sullivan or Rob Mackowiak, there is this Met missive from Monday to mull:

The New York Mets and ARAMARK — a world-class leader in professional services and the Mets' food and beverage provider — today announced a partnership with Zachys Wine & Liquor Inc. to design a world-class wine program for Citi Field, the Mets' new home opening April 13.

A world-class wine program for our World-Class ballpark. Well then. Don't bogart that bottle. Pass it on over.

Listen, I don't want to be one of those rabid callers to talk radio who complains that Congress shouldn't be wasting its time declaring National Cotton Swab Week when the economy is in the crapper, for I'll bet even Congress can stimulate two things at once. Thus, there is little logic to complaining that the Mets, with their unfinished roster and their half-assed patch, shouldn't be worrying about “bringing Citi Field guests an extraordinary range of wines”.

But I will complain anyway.

Stop putting out releases like this, Mets. Stop being so proud of stuff like this. There is no underestimating the interest any given Mets fan has in this news. There is none. Perhaps there could be less. There was a movie twenty or so years ago called Less Than Zero. It was about the amount of concern Mets fans would have two decades hence regarding the stadium wine list.

Five years ago, you hopefully recall, there was a much better movie called Sideways, about a troubled wine connoisseur. It could also describe the Mets of late. They make lateral moves in the standings. They make lateral moves on the roster. They make a lateral move across the parking lot if viewed from Roosevelt Avenue or Northern Boulevard. But they really enhanced the wine menu, so that's something over which we can all burst with oenophiliac pride.

Of course there is that downwardly mobile patch on the sleeve, belying the “world-class hospitality environment at Citi Field” and undermining, it seems, every step the Mets have taken for the last month. This thing has departed the realm of bemused bloggers and uni obsessives and entered the everyday sports realm. A friend from another time zone sent me an article to let me know the whole country is laughing at the Inaugural Season patch. I turned on WFAN one night for the first time in a while, and Steve Somers — who only knows what he reads in the paper — is laughing at the patch. Stephen Colbert (and not Jon Stewart, who actually cares about the Mets) laughed at the patch. Sports Illustrated laughed at the patch, quoting Colbert on its genericism: “Notice the way the patch mirrors its fans, by not wanting to actually say it's for the Mets.” For that matter, the Sunday before last, I opened the Daily News, found Bill Gallo's regular laughable cartoon (of the unintentionally laughable variety) and, below it, his weekly column. Bill Gallo, whose cartoons are mostly clouds and comic balloons, actually got off a brilliant line at the Mets' expense:

For the rest of next season, Met players will sport the blandest, most unimaginative baseball logo of all time. Actually, in fairness to the people who put this simple patch of blue and orange together, it shouldn't even be considered a logo. Instead, it's more like a nametag one wears at a company meeting.

And they say, HI, MY NAME IS OH NEVER MIND.

Bill Gallo is laughing at you, Mets. Everybody is laughing at you. Not with you. At you.

The word the Mets have put out to explain why this awful patch is acceptable — that it is “compatible and consistent with Citigroup's overall branding and graphic design elements”; that given their deal with Citigroup, “we're going to give substantial deference to their design and graphic treatment”; and that the Mets are “flattered” that Citigroup bothered to sign off on blue and orange at all — is only more hilarious, unless you're a Mets fan. Then it resides somewhere between embarrassing and galling, especially the promise Tyler Kepner wrung from Dave Howard that “the team would not change the sleeve patch,” despite having a sharper, Rotunda-driven iteration in its quiver.

Maybe Omar Minaya can't take his marching orders from a Peavy-starved supporter, but why not accede to popular demand on this one? I understand why the Mets are hanging in there with Citigroup. I understand there are contracts and long-term considerations and world-class payments (taxpayer-funded or otherwise) at work. But how flattered and deferential must the Mets be in all this? How much rolling over must the Mets do at the expense of their own brand? When Citigroup isn't at the center of bailout-related news, it's being reminded by the President of the United States that it wasn't given $45 billion so it could direct a cool 50-mil toward a sweet private jet…which is what Citigroup planned to buy before Barack Obama gave them an emphatic tap on the public relations shoulder and suggested they reconsider their priorities.

So every time, say, Cory Sullivan steps out of the box to let a plane pass overhead, it won't be because a Citigroup executive is winging his way in world-class style to a world-class meeting amid what the Post referred to, in its inimitable nonjudgmental prose, as a “plush interior with leather seats, sofas and a customizable entertainment center”. Chalk one up for the middle-class baseball fan viewing his or her team's home games in the shadow of “Citi Field's premium dining areas, including suites, lounges, restaurants, and other locations in the more than 60,000 square feet of available event space” where all that world-class wine will be offered.

If Citigroup can be strongly invited to drop its plane purchase plans, why can't the Mets be, for once, deferential toward their fans who almost completely universally hate that dimwitted patch?

Premium dining area people, knock yourselves out via whatever Zachys is pouring. If I'm ever invited into the Caesars Club — bread and circuses and, if there's time, baseball for all! — I'm sure I'll be Harry Hypocrite and drink up (particularly if Freddy, Alex, Cory and Rob are our last, best acquisitions of this offseason). As a semi-regular patron of the old Daruma of Great Neck stand and intermittently successful pretzel shopper, I won't pretend I'm not a little enthused by the installation of El Verano Taquería and Box Frites, whatever those food “concepts” are exactly. They sound tasty, and I think any ol' schmo can queue up for 'em. Truly, I am an ol' schmo.

Y'know what, though? Surprise me with this stuff. I'll probably get a ticket eventually and I hope to have a few spare bucks on me and I'd love to try the food. I'm not shy about trying food, believe me. I'm not much on wine, but some people are. L'Chaim.

But if you can't acquire a top-flight starting pitcher and you won't sign a legitimate starting corner outfielder and you can't bring yourself to admit that your miserable patch will evoke, with every single glimpse, the cringeful reminder that we are in bed with the financial wizards who tried to buy a nifty private plane with beaucoup taxpayer bucks…then please, for the love of our collective self-esteem, keep the freaking world-class wine news bottled up.