Atlanta. Turner Field. It's where Mets dreams have been dying for almost a decade. If it doesn't stop this week, we're gonna have to wear commemorative patches next season.

As first reported here Sunday, the New York Mets will indeed wear commemorative patches on the right sleeve of all five versions of their uniform tops next season to mark the accomplishments garnered during their first decade as a visiting team at Atlanta's Turner Field. We have posted a prototype in our photo section.

It is not clear whether those who call the Mets to reserve their Pennant Race Pack — each box seat is priced at $455; a $200-per-seat non-refundable deposit toward a ticket plan purchase for 2006 is required; and there is an option to buy the same seats for all potential 2005 Mets post-season home games — will receive a limited-edition, first-edition patch.

Operators are standing by.

I won't claim that this is an original sentiment in Met Land tonight, but here it is anyway: Should we ever again hold a lead in the 9th inning, I want to see Roberto Hernandez coming out of the bullpen.

I don't care what it does to the 8th inning. I don't care if it exposes Aaron Heilman, or forces Juan Padilla into a setup role he's not ready for, or ruins the feng shui of Flushing dim sum shops, or causes hermaphroditism in frogs. I don't care.

Because I cannot stand watching Braden Looper blow ballgames anymore.

Braden Looper can't get lefties out on any night, and on many nights he can't get anyone out. His 9th inning of work tonight now only doesn't look disgustingly incompetent because it was instantly followed by his more disgustingly incompetent 10th inning of work. (Gee Willie, that stove wasn't much cooler the second time you touched it, was it?) The difference between Braden Looper and Armando Benitez? Braden Looper's name is sillier.

Now, Braden Looper is far from the only thing wrong with this team. I'm not claiming it's all on him. Heck, score one, two, or three runs a night and you're going nowhere even if you, say, get great starting pitching consistently. But Braden Looper is clearly one of the things consistently wrong with this team, and his era needs to end starting right now. Bert for the rest of the year, now once again recast as a dispiriting quest to stay over .500. And then?

Well, let's put it this way: All I want for Christmas is Billy Wagner.

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Hello, Finazzle? I want my money back. I see the sign for your product behind home plate at Turner Field every game I watch from there and you've done nothing about cleaning the grout of the Mets' batting order let alone removing the scum that's infested almost every game we've ever played down there.

Hello?

Serves me right for depending on a product sold in every N.L. East town but ours.

You know what's particularly irksome about losing to the Braves in situations like this? I mean particularly? It's that the Mets never stop being beaten by the same fuckers who've been doing them in since 1997. Who beat us today? Andruw Jones and Chipper Jones. Sure, Francoeur played a predictably immense role (I predicted it yesterday and I am indeed agitated — and am still agitated about Julio Valera, Cesar Cedeño and Luis Aguayo from other Septembers) and of course John Thomson is still getting even with us for whatever prank Charlie Hough and Mike Bacsik played on him three years ago. But Andruw and Chipper? Same as it ever was. Time stands still and smokes 'em if it's got 'em where those two are concerned.

Andruw? OK, 45 homers, predictable enough (I can't wait 'til he tests positive). But Chipper? Chipper? Again? They just get done telling us how lame he's been all season and then he sees NEW YORK embroidered onto polyester and parties like it's 1999. They'll be waking this weasel up at the age of 78 and activating him on September 1, 2050 just so he can keep his consecutive-year streak of eating our hearts out intact.

Who's going against us Tuesday night? I mean besides us? Oh, that fresh young arm Smoltz. He's 107-3 lifetime versus the Mets. Should be fun.

Pennant fever. Get a shot for it.

As good a centerfielder as Andruw Jones is, the Mets once had a better one, even if he wasn't such hot stuff by the time he got to us. I give you 24 good reasons why the Mets should retire No. 24 for Willie Mays at Gotham Baseball.

What can you say? It was the Braves against a .500 team.

Trachsel was horrible early — how Andruw Jones didn't hit one of the several awful pitches he saw in the first inning to the moon is beyond me — then settled down and pitched quite well. Met For a Minute John Thomson was horrible early and then settled down. After that, well, pick 'em: If you're feeling superstitious, you can leave this one moaning that we played well but it's Turner Field, so the other guy broke on top. If you're feeling philosophical (like I am these days) you can say that we made the kind of mistakes teams that are still works in progress make, and those were enough to beat us. Two stuck in my craw:

1. Victor Diaz trying some ludicrous little pop-up slide in the seventh when the only chance he had was to try and steamroll Johnny Estrada. Not to be all bloody-minded, but the only play there was the football play. I don't blame Manny Acta for sending him, though — it demanded a perfect throw to get Victor, and Jeff Francoeur uncorked a perfect throw. A beyond-perfect throw. Uncle, Monsieur Francoeur — we've heard of you now.

2. In the ninth, Marlon Anderson works a 2-2 count against Kyle Farnsworth, who's just come into the game, and singles. So Jose Reyes, of course, POPS UP THE FIRST PITCH. It's too late in the season and Jose has come too far for him to keep making these stupid, overaggressive mental mistakes.

Funny aside from Gary and Howie: The Mets tried to get a call against Francoeur tagging up from second, and Angel Hernandez said no. Howie noted this, and Gary chimes in, “Either that or he wasn't watching.” God bless Gary and Howie.

It was the best of sixths. It was the…yeah, it was the best.

The short season that just passed — the 28 games encompassing August 5 through September 4 — ended with a record of 16-12 and a winning percentage of .571. That's the best Mets' mark compiled in such a period since we began paying homage to Newsday's pioneering sportswriter Joe Gergen with our adaptation of his Short Season Awards.

Let's compare that to the four sixths that preceded it.

First Sixth: 12-13 (.480)

Second Sixth: 16-13 (.551)

Third Sixth: 12-15 (.444)

Fourth Sixth: 14-13 (.519)

On a sheer numbers basis, you've gotta take the fifth. And momentum/delusion was also running highest during the span covering these 28 contests. So yes, we just lived through a golden era.

Because of the massive popularity of the Short Season Awards, I haven't been able to answer every question that's come in regarding them, but I will clarify one that's been asked quite often:

Why doesn't each sixth add up to 27 games — is it because you guys are still having math problems?

That's a great inquiry made by too many readers to thank individually. The answer is that the Short Season Award Committee (SSAC) didn't think it wise to break up eligibility periods in the middle of a given series. So for the fifth sixth, we waited until the weekend's Mets-Marlins set was complete to call it a sixth even though at 28 games, it was slightly longer.

Thanks for asking. It makes us feel good that there's such a high level of interest in this feature. I want to assure all of you that there will be a sixth sixth report issued before Faith and Fear wraps up the 2005 season as a whole. Rest easy, gang. The SSAC is on this.

Housekeeping out of the way, it's post time in the fifth.

Guns Of August

1. David Wright: MVP! MVP! Sit down Cliff, we're not talking to you.

2. Jae Seo: Say, we used to have a pitcher named Jae Seo. You're not related to him, are you? Couldn't be. You pitch nothing like that guy.

3. Ramon Castro: When he doesn't just stand there, he does something.

4. Jose Reyes: Watch him run. Hell, watch him walk.

5. Tom Glavine: We've Met at last.

Late-Summer Saggers

1. Miguel Cairo: An excellent bench player, thus the rub.

2. Marlon Anderson: He's no Lenny Harris and that's not a compliment.

3. Danny Graves: Eight-run lead, dude. Ya lost me when ya lost it.

4. Braden Looper: Someday we'll take note of the saves you do get. This is not that day.

5. Mike DeFelice: Get a batting average and we'll talk.

Best Things From The Worst Moment Of The Season

1. Mike Cameron and Carlos Beltran being alive

2. Carlos Beltran being shook up but staying conscious

3. Carlos Beltran returning to the lineup

4. Mike Cameron returning to Shea

5. Guys like these playing the way they do…but for god's sake, be more careful next time

These Things Were Good

1. Seo bests Maddux

2. Jacobs' unconscious debut

3. Wright's barehanded grab

4. The Diamondback staff (good for us to poop on!)

5. Steve Trachsel's two-hit cameo

These Things Were A Drag

1. Antonio Perez and Jayson Werth

2. Ryan Howard and Chase Utley

3. Jason Schmidt and Noah Lowry

4. Zach Duke and Dontrelle Willis

5. Shingo Takatsu and Miguel Cabrera

Five Stages of Wild Card Grief

1. Denial: “Are you kidding? We're gonna win the division!”

2. Anger: “Are you kidding? Can't Looper hold a lead?”

3. Bargaining: “Are you kidding? I'd gladly take two out of three.”

4. Depression: “Are you kidding? I can't watch another pitch.”

5. Acceptance: “Are you kidding? We're gonna win the Wild Card!”

Entourage Characters' Met Equivalents, More Or Less

1. Vince: David Wright

2. E: Roberto Hernandez

3. Johnny Drama: Doug Mientkiewicz

4. Turtle: Gerald Williams

5. Ari Gold: Pedro — who else?

Alternate Names For Marlins' Home Facility

1. The Continuously Exposed Sack

2. Hideous Mistake at Nowhere's Middle

3. Joe Robbie Pro Player Dolphins Stadium Park Stadium

4. Florida Turnpike Southbound Rest Stop Number Fourteen

5. Shea Sans Charm

Things Victor Diaz Will Never Be

1. A Gold Glove winner

2. A Gold Glove candidate

3. Allowed to look at a Gold Glove

4. Much of a rightfielder

5. Endorsed by Fred McGriff

Failsafe Predictions For The Rest Of The Way

1. Willie Randolph will make some people unhappy.

2. The St. Louis Cardinals will make some people unhappy.

3. The New York Mets will make some people unhappy.

4. Fran Healy will make everybody unhappy.

5. I will drop the names Julio Valera, Cesar Cedeño, Luis Aguayo and Jeff Francoeur into agitated conversation.

That's whom I was thinking about when Shingo after came in and gave the Marlins a bingo. (By jingo!) Him and Billy Taylor. Dial-up being dial-up, I'm not going to investigate, but I'm sure Taylor and McElroy might have made decent first impressions before being packed off after a single partial season.

Yes, a nice win today, followed down here in Vacation Paradise (which it totally was today — 80, just enough breeze to cool things off) via the WB and FAN, which was accessible with some mild gymnastics while walking about. Was particularly glad to see Clifford hit one to dead center (fuck the Marlins for every goddamn time one of their fielders has caught a drive from us in one of Soilmaster Stadium's 440' cul de sacs), Wright pour it on late and Seo show that whatever nuttiness is going on, he's not coming out of the rotation. And to see some tolerable production coming out of second base — all is not lost, Kaz, just do what you're capable of and don't get hurt, y'hear?

It's funny about the Braves. I don't have the same dread that usually manifests itself when we arrive in Turner Field with a season in the balance, and you've absolutely nailed why: Because it's extremely hard to claim that we even deserve to be in the running for something at this point. If the Braves knock us into 2006, it will hurt, but it won't be the shock that '98 or the '99 postseason or '01 were. Those were a lot better teams than this one; an end to '05 would just be finally coming back to earth, even if it were Schuerholz's Slaughterers offering the coup de grace.

Which isn't to say I don't like this team. I do — a lot, despite my grousing about Victor and Kaz and Kaz and Ice and Offerman and Looper and Koo and Graves. There's a difference between bad roster moves and bad guys, and of this year's Mets, Offerman and DeJean are the only ones who seem like they might be guys you wouldn't particularly want to root for. I like this team and I'll cheer madly for whatever wild-card hopes we have until math dictates otherwise (and we still might win — plenty of time left), but this ain't a great team, and no amount of devotion can hide that. It's a .500 team trying to make the leap to the next level, but the mismatches and the growing pains and the roster mismanagement and the injuries and the bad luck strongly suggest that's not going to happen. That's OK in a year in which .500 and respectability would have been accomplishment enough — mission most definitely accomplished even if nothing else happens. Do I want more than that? Of course. Will I be disappointed not to get more than that? Sure. Will I be surprised not to get more than that? Absolutely not.