Here in the upper left armpit of New Jersey, where if the wind is blowing east it doesn’t really smell that bad, the sun is more or less shining. All around me, millions of people, every single one an employee of either the pharmaceutical or the “waste management” industry, go about their daily lives. Across the river, in New York City, Major League Baseball is once again as it was meant to be. In the Bronx, The Stein is attempting to decide whether to wear his silk suit or his suit made of flayed human flesh to the coronation ceremony in October. In Queens, the Mets have returned to their rightful spot as the colon of baseball: with great fanfare, they strain and labor through an exhausting season, and then, at the end of the process, when the anticipation has grown and the pressure is on, they dump a great big steaming pile of crap on the fetid toilet that is Shea Stadium (this is a multipurpose metaphor). And dimly, through the thick and probably carcinogenic smog rising out of the smokestacks of Newark, one can make out the baseball gods - sick motherfuckers, every one of them - and they look just like Nelson Muntz.
As the distinguished What Exit? has been kind enough to point out, the New York Mets have now managed to piss away what was a seven game lead with seventeen games to play. They stand today tied with the Philadelphia Phillies for the division lead, having been shut out last night by noted Cy Young candidate Jake Peav - what? What? Who? Who the fuck is Joel Piniero? Are you making this shit up now? JOEL PINIERO? What, the kid from Angels in the Outfield wasn’t available? Fuck me, really, Joel Piniero? FUUUUUUUUUUCK!
As What Exit? has also noted, losing a seven game lead in seventeen days is literally a historic event. No team in history has ever pulled quite so spectacular a choke job quite so late in the season. For those readers not interested in baseball, this is as if Pavarotti made it through the hard part of Nessun Dorma, and then, instead of singing the last three notes, instead broke into “Baby Got Back” and then fellated a badger live on stage. Now remember, the Mets are the current employers of Pedro Martinez and Tom Glavine, and the former employers of Nolan Ryan, Tom Seaver, Doc Gooden before he went insane, and David Cone, and no one in the history of the franchise has ever thrown a no-hitter. Can’t manage that. But fold in the last two weeks of the season to a record extent - this the Mets can manage. Let me put this into perspective for you: The Mets Suck.
So, without further ado, this Mets fan presents an annoted list of people who are cordially invited to do something unspeakable with an electric eel:
Let’s start with Jose Reyes: The Mets All-Star shortstop, who I seriously argued with a straight face was the best shortstop in baseball back in June, and who has completely humiliated every Met fan who supported him by playing the entire second half of the season as if he’s wondering when the buffet line opens. Draw a walk, for the love of god, DRAW A WALK I TOLD PEOPLE YOU WERE BETTER THAN JETER WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU *TRYING * TO MAKE ME LOOK STUPID ON PURPOSE DO YOU HAVE SOMEWHERE BETTER TO BE???
Carlos Delgado: Seriously, Carlos, your inability to move six inches to your left or right while playing the field was endearing when you were slugging .593 in Toronto. Now that you’ve turned into Ken Phelps, it’s not cute anymore. You’re 35 years old; learn to catch the ball.
Billy Wagner: You know how, when Mariano Rivera or Jon Papelbon comes into a close game in the ninth, you feel a cool confidence, like you’re in good hands and you’ve got this one in the bag? You know that feeling? No? Don’t know what I’m talking about? You’re probably a Met fan. You suck, Wagner.
And actually, while I’m here:
Every single absolutely useless motherfucker in the Met bullpen: The performance of the Met bullpen in the last twelve weeks has crossed over the line from frustrating into comical, and then over the next line from comical into horrifying, and then over the next line from horrifying into completely surreal. I can’t even imagine what the incompetence equivalent would be in an office environment. Maybe burning down the office building, losing the secret formula to your company’s key product, and beating your CEO to death with a highlighter.
Omar Minaya and Willie Randolph: Oh, Omar’s done a nice job and all. But he also traded Brian Bannister, a young pitcher good enough to win 12 games and post a sub-4.00 ERA for the Royals, of all teams, for Ambiorix Burgos, who hasn’t pitched in the majors since May. And when people try to blame the Met collapse on injuries, let’s keep firmly in mind that Omar Minaya was responsible for assembling an Opening Day Roster that included the entire duty roster of the AARP - Moises Alou, Tom Glavine, Pedro Martinez, Orlando Hernandez, and Julio “I was a teenage second baseman - when Jimmy Carter was President” Franco. I think someone might have predicted injury problems.
But let’s talk about on-the-field strategy. For two years, Met fans heard about Mike Pelfrey and Phillip Humber, our two mega-pitching prospects. These guys were so untouchable that we absolutely could not trade them - not for Roy Oswalt, not for anything or anyone. This year, Mike Pelfrey came around and pitched, and he looks so much like Bill Pulsipher that it’s terrifying. So I sure am glad we hung on to him!
Now, this season, the Mets have run starters out there - Brian Lawrence; Jorge Sosa; Chan Ho Park - who make Pelfrey look like - gag - I was going to say “make Pelfrey look like John Smoltz,” but that phrase triggered my gag reflex, so let’s go with “make Pelfrey look like Rick Reed.” But we couldn’t put Humber out there, because he’s young and we didn’t want to rush his development, right? Want to put him in a position where he has a chance to succeed, not put him under the intense pressure of a pennant race. So, let’s have Lawrence and Sosa and Park and my grandmother start in June and July, when the Met lead is six or seven games. Then, against the Nationals, when the Mets absolutely, frantically need a well pitched game by their starter both to preserve their bullpen and hold off the Phillies, when Orlando Hernandez is ready and able to pitch - let’s give Humber his first ever major league start THEN!!! Brilliant! Way to go, Willie!
And through it all, the Met manager sits on that bench, looking like nothing quite so much as Bernie from Weekend at Bernies. WAKE UP, WILLIE! YOU’RE AT A BASEBALL GAME, NOT A YOGA RETREAT, WAKE THE FUCK UP! AUGGGGHHH!
Oh, and the Yankees fans have started chirping now. They were blissfully silent for a while, back when it looked like their team might actually miss the playoffs for the first time since before I had finished puberty, but suddenly they’re having a grand old time. After all, the old Yankee double-play combination of Satan to Mammon to Baal is clicking nicely, Captain Clutchness is Next to Godliness is getting doubles by sheer force of Aura alone, and the Guy the Yankee Fans All Think Sucks just hit another home run over pancakes.
The worst part is, I can’t even hate the Phillies. How can you hate this Phillie team? Ryan Howard is a force of nature. Jimmy Rollins is awesome. They’re running Larry, Mo, and Curly out to the mound and still winning. Seriously, you want me to root against Aaron “Faceplant” Roward? Shane Victorino? They’re the kind of team I’d root for, if I wasn’t rooting against them.
I need a nap.
Joel Piniero?
