Monday, September 29, 2008

And Now, I Bestow The End Of The Season Go Fuck Yourself Award...

...upon the entire New York Mets organization, top down, everyone, everybody, nobody left out, all of 'em. Fred, Jeffy, Omar, Willie, Jerry, and the whole entire team.

Go fuck yourselves, boys, and I hope you don't enjoy it. Because you fucked us, and as sure as I sit here writing this post, it doesn't feel good, it surely doesn't. And not even Viagra would help the Met fan at this point.

Fred and Jeffy, here's to you. All you two care about, obviously, is the bottom line. You don't really care about winning, and care even less about producing a champion. Your gods are money and more money. In your pockets. You're more worried about Citifield, ticket prices, and your network, and the team is but an afterthought. So, fuck you.

Omar, here's to YOU, buddy. Your nose is so far up Fred's ass that you may as well be part of him; in fact, you probably are. Your fondness for over-the-hill oft-injured has-beens has been duly noted, and if I see Moises Alou so much as within a 30 mile radius of CitiField, your ass is its grass. Same goes for Luis Castillo and Pedro Martinez. But then, you work for a guy who simply cares about revenue, and I suppose there is lots of money to be made by exploiting the fan's fondness for fading stars.

And this here is the flag that ought to be flying proudly and grandly over CitiField next year.

Willie and Jerry, here's to both of you, as well. Willie, ya never should have been hired, and Jerry, ya probably should be fired. I'm sorry to say that in Jerry's case, because I genuinely like him, but I think he's not what this team needs right now.

And a special "fuck you very much" to the entire New York Mets team, with the exception of Johan Santana, who's probably scratching his ass right about now and wondering why the fuck he came here in the first place.

And a very, very special "fuck you" to David Wright and Jose Reyes. Here's what I want from you, boys -- you're now officially the Eli Mannings of pre-2008. In other words, it's time to put up, or shut up. It's time to step up and take the team. It's time to man up. It's time to put your guts, heart, talent and mettle in front of your mouths. It's do or die. It's lead, follow, or get the fuck out of the way.

Fuck you all, fuck you very much. We are all well and truly fucked.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

The Party's Over...'s time to call it day, a Shea, another season.

And all I can think to myself right now is, boy, they deserve it, those Mets, but boy, Mets fans sure don't. They surely don't.

I hope the powers that be are paying attention to the last two years. And I hope they are realizing, slowly but surely, that they simply can't bring back the same team next year; that it's time for some serious soul-searching changes to this organization and this team, and that it's time to give Mets fans something to do but shed tears on the last day of the season.

That's it, that's all, I just can't say anymore right now. I think I said it all before, anyway. And taken a lot of heat for it.

And right now, as sure as the sun will come up tomorrow, the Brewers will be playing October baseball, and the Mets will be going home, I wish I was wrong, I really do. Because you, the Met fan, deserve so much much more.

Pussy-Free Zone Yesterday...

Not much to say except that if we had an Anti-Pussy Award here, Johan Santana would have won it for his performance on Saturday...

The definition of "CLUTCH" in the dictionary has a picture of Johan next to it.

And the Mets are still alive for another day...

Saturday, September 27, 2008

"He's Got The Whole World...In His Hands..."

..."he's got the whole world, in his hands...he's got you and me brother, in his hands...."

And today, Johan Santana has the whole world in his hands. And how appropriate to show the colossal image of the Atlas in Rockefeller Center, New York. Because today, Johan, you are New York's Atlas, having held the fragile hopes of Mets fans in your hands, and on your shoulders, and having brought them to the dawn of a new day.

For those of you who don't know the legend, the myth of Atlas, remember Hercules? Well, one of his Twelve Labors involved the acquisition of some of the golden apples, tended by the Hesperides and guarded by the dragon Ladon. To make a long story short, Hercules went to Atlas, the father of the Hesperides, one of the keepers of the garden, and offered to hold the heavens for a little while in exchange for the apples. Atlas agreed, thinking it would be an easy task since he was, after all, the father of Hesperides. But little did Hercules know that once Atlas got the apples, he intended to try to Hercules into carrying the sky permanently by offering to deliver the apples to their ultimate destination himself. Hercules, suspecting Atlas didn't intend to return again, pretended to agree to Atlas' offer, asking only that Atlas take the sky again for a few minutes so he [Hercules] could rearrange his cloak as padding on his shoulders. When Atlas set down the apples and took the heavens upon his shoulders again, Hercules took the apples and ran away.

Well, the Atlas Santana set down the opposition, not falling prey to Herculean tricks, took the Mets upon his shoulders again, and did not falter...and any day you beat Hercules at his own game, well, you are the man, the Atlas.

And Atlas, contrary to what Ayn Rand wrote, did not shrug, nor did he run away, nor did he refuse to shoulder his burden.

When Atlas Santana kissed the shutout ball and threw it into the crowd, he stood proudly, and strongly, with the world in his hands.

Let's Go Mets. After today, how can one say anything else?

Friday, September 26, 2008

We Now Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Programming to Bring You a VERY SPECIAL Big Pussy Pick for the "New" Three-Game Season...

I was thinking that the BPPOW would be put on hold, you know, cause this is technically the last week of the regular season, but what I read today qualified for a special dispensation to include another round of Big Pussy's Pick for this upcoming "season" against the Marlins.

Now, if you are a Mets fan, but happened to be a.) stuck in a cave with no radio, TV or newspaper access, 2.) given up on the team in the last week or D.) cryogenically frozen and unfrozen during Spring training this week, the Mets collapsed with 17 games to play, with a 7 game lead. That said, the last week was particularly atrocious, dropping six of seven games down the critical stretch, and dropping of course 2 of three to the Marlins, who emulated their lives on being Scooby Doo's nephew, Scrappy -- Let me at 'em, I'll splat 'em!!

Never mind that the Mets were just HORRIBLE in NL East match-ups in 2007. Cripes, I remember so many games against the Marlins and Nationals just thinking, if they could have won just one more game out of those contests (which theoretically they should have been 900-0 in those games), then of course being absolutely owned by the Phillies, that if there was a team that should have taken the division, well, it should not have been the Mets.

We fans though, we watched the games. We went through the collapse, day by day, night after excruciating night. And we saw that even though the last week was painful, none of it would have mattered if the Mets won the games they should have won.

But of course, with our "ace" Tom Glavine not making it out of the first inning, recording only one out, and being on the hook for 7 runs...well, much like Beltran looking at strike three in 2006, that is what everyone remembers. Not the events leading up to that moment, events that should not have occurred in the first place.

Now a few weeks back, you may remember that I called poster-boy for Ritalin Cody Ross "BPPOW" because he is convinced Big Mike Pelfrey threw at him intentionally -- meanwhile, he stands on top of the plate. But boy, the big shit-talkers on the Marlins today...takes the proverbial cake. In fact, I hope that Jerry Manuel tapes this to everyone's locker -- makes sure they read it, and for those who's English isn't too refined, translate it in Spanish.

In the Orlando Sun-Sentinel today, Scotty Olson congratulated himself for his part in the collapse by having NY-style pizza after humiliating the Mets that day (um, he didn't start). Cody Ross, BPPOW winner, also says that "we are the last team they'd want to see."

But the icing on the cake is when former Met Mike Jacobs says, "I don't necessarily think they're worried because of what happened last year...They should be worried because we play them tough. … I wouldn't say we're in their heads, but they know they need to be perfect. If they're not, they're going to have a tough time."

Oh, you done did it this time, Mikey. No, the Marlins and the collapse is not in their heads. The only reason people fucking remember it is because idiots like YOU refuse to let it go. Mind you, save the core of Carloses, Wright and Reyes, new guys who have been integral help this season in Evans, Murphy, and even Church weren't even on the fucking team last year. Oh yeah, we also have a true ace, on the right side of 30, a legit Cy Young candidate each year, who happens to be starting Sunday. So put that in your hairy bagpipe and smoke it, mister.

Olson says in this article that it was fun to hear 55,000 people being so quiet. Yes, he must be used to it, with the 55 people who show up to his starts -- that's 9,945 less than the walk-ups we'd get whenever Pedro pitched in 2005.

Scotty Olson also starts on Sunday. Oh yes, he of his 8-11 record, and 1.33 WHIP. Verrrry intimidating. Hmmm, maybe Johan Santana, after you know waxing his ass in the matchup, will be nice enough to send him a Mama's of Corona's sanguich before booting his ass on the next plane to Miami.

But the piece de resistance on this is the ever-famous quote from the mildly (okay, incredibly) insignificant former Mets catcher Paul LoDuca: "It was not a good memory...And I'm hoping we can make it not good memories for them again this year."

I'm sorry many games have you played in this year? Do you actually think you are relevant?

I would like to apologize for past wrongs and potentially perceived as future wrongs to the Marlins.

You did your last shit talking of the season. Don't you guys have anything better to do, you know, like makes plans to golf with Grandpa? Cause you know, at least the Mets have something to play, other than being spoiler.

As one of the great sages in modern cinema said in Little Miss Sunshine: "There are two types of people in this world. There are winners. And there are losers." Substitute "Pussy" for "Loser" in that last line, and it still makes sense. Nothing says "Loser" or "Pussy" more to me than trying to deliberately ruining the chances of a team that is destined to make the playoffs.

Yeah, I said it. I'm a winner. Sue me. But on Sunday, when Scott Olson is crying into his Cel-Ray soda, and Mike Jacobs is home changing diapers, and Cody Ross is trying to get Grandpa out of the assisted living facility to play golf on Tuesday...well, I just hope they enjoy the celebrating on the field that is going to occur...

You know...cause we are celebrating the last regular season game at Shea. Of course that's what I meant. *wink, wink*

"Oh, What A Night..."

...late September, in 2008;
Carlos Beltran stepping to the plate;
What a finish, what a night!

And yes it was, what a night, what a finish... it actually made me think, just for one lovely moment, that the Mets could, they would, they might, they shall....

But today, I don't really know what to feel. All I know is that the great Rickey Henderson is right -- strap in, buckle up, get y'er vomit bags, and get ready for the ride of your life, the last weekend of the 2008 regular baseball season, when anything can, and probably will, happen.

As much as I've maligned, snickered at, pooh-poohed, criticized and genuinely have hated this team this year, if you're a Mets fan, you can't help but to be thrilled to your toes about this weekend, even if perversely. You're either waiting for them to excel and propel, or to flop and drop.

Either way, it's as exciting as hell.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

"...I Don't Know How Much More Of This I Can Take..." I said a couple of days ago in this post.

Honestly, I'm almost at a total loss for words. I think I've said it all, anyway, over the past few years, as I haven't liked the construction or attitude of this team since the day Carlos Beltran stood at home plate with the bat on his shoulders in Game 7 of the 2006 NLCS.

Shoulda told us something.

And by now, I'm sure Johan Santana is strongly questioning why the fuck he came here. This isn't what was represented to him, I'm sure. Hell, it's not even what was represented to the general public.

I feel so flim-flammed, so used, so lied to, so mislead, so conned.

And probably, so does Johan. Only difference is, he gets paid a lot of money to assuage his disappointment.

We don't. Au contraire, we have to SPEND IT, and add insult to injury.

And Omar Minaya gets a four-year contract extension.

Well, whoop-de-fucking-doo!

I don't know how much more of this I can take...shoot, shoot, SHOOT!

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

And The Big Pussy's Pick of the Week Goes To...

Mets fans in general. Myself included.

True, this week was a test of our strengths and very fortitude that makes us Mets fans. Losing two out of three to the Braves. Splitting a four-game series with the Nationals earlier. Losing ANOTHER two out of three to the Braves prior that. Etc, etc. Hi-sign. Etc.

And then losing the first out of a four game series (for those of you counting at home -- a three-game losing streak) to the, you know, NL Central champs the Cubs was more than we could bear.

I, myself, claimed on my Facebook homepage that the season was in effect over. O-V-E-R. Real over. I could not even fathom the Mets even taking one game out of the Cubs series (although our ace in the hole with Johan was in the factor), let alone the next three. Not to mention the many stars aligning with a Phillies team that just does not seem to lose this time of the year, plus the Brew Crew (although they have been in a downward spiral), playing the worst of the worst, the Pirates.

And not to mention the state of the team. Barring the odge that the bullpen tends to give us on a nightly basis, even with like a 20-run head start, Luis Castillo seems to loaf during the early years on his contract, David Wright was thought to be "unclutch" and our version of "A-Rod" with "meaningless" stats (you know, like 122 RBIs), then you know, after Carlos Delgado, there's no threat in the line up, therefore he does not see good pitches anymore.

But boy, what one night will do to you. And boy, was I wrong.

It's far from over. Henny Penny, the sky is not falling. As I said last night walking out of the stadium, when there is light, there is still hope. And what's a Mets fan without hope? A Yankees fan (another reason to be happy, being officially mathematically eliminated last night with the Sox win).

So Mets fans, it's not over. This team (unlike 2007) will find ways to win, even those that seem to defy convention. So buck up, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and let's enjoy this race while we can.

You big fucking pussies. And I say that with much love.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

"This Is The End..."

..."beautiful friend; this is the end; my only friend, the end; of our elaborate plans, the end; of everything that stands, the end; no safety or surprise, the end..."

I can't think of anything but these immortal words of the great Doors' classic this morning, folks. I just can't. Last night, what I saw in the Mets dugout, on the field at Shea, and sitting on the bench, was a dejected and defeated team; one that knows it is, indeed, the end...

And I know a lot of you are going to hate me for this, but you know what? I almost hope it is the end; the end of this team as we know it. For there is something fundamentally wrong with the structure, the culture, and the attitude of this team, something not quite right, something that desperately needs fixing. And if the Mets make the postseason, none of that will be addressed, and it will be risky business as usual for the organization next year.

I'm almost hoping this is the end, friends....

Monday, September 22, 2008

"But They Can't Be Wounded, 'Cause They've Got No Heart..."

....and thank you, Elvis Costello, for giving me the line which spawned the title to this post. They've got no heart, these Mets, they have no clue, these Mets, they send invisible shivers running down my spine, these Mets; I don't know how much more of this I can take, and I'm frankly filing my nails while they're losing the nearly took a miracle to get them to stay in it, it's only gonna take my little fingers to turn them off.

So much for my Elvis Costello moment. But frankly, the tone and tenor of that wonderful song from which I heavily borrowed the lines of that paragraph feels exactly like what I'm feeling today. Melancholy, a little haunted, a little sad, a little perplexed, and a little frustrated. In fact, I was going to subtitle this post "It's The Bullpen, Stupid!", but I thought that was another overly simplistic statement masquerading for real thought when it comes to this current version of the New York Mets. For it's MORE than the bullpen, folks; it's the total culture of the team, the total failure of the team to pick each other up, the total failure of the team to play like a team on anything approaching a consistent basis.

Just like watching the detectives...only they're NOT so cute, this time!

And I guess the Mets can't beat the Braves unless a pitcher named Perez is starting the game.

I'm starting to think that the Mets have their own version of the "open door" policy -- they open the door for other teams, and the other teams just walk through it.

Just like watching the detectives....shoot, shoot, shoot...I get so angry when the teardrops start, but they can't be wounded, 'cause they've got no heart.

Prove me wrong. Stop leaving so many men on base; stop failing to execute; stop failing to play solid fundamental baseball, and shut that fucking door, already, once and for all.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

(He's Got A) Ticket To Ride...

....and we don't care....that's right, folks, we just don't care, as the old but classic Beatles song goes.

Last night, methinks Aaron Heilman purchased himself a one-way ticket to ride out of New York, doing his usual lousy job out of the bullpen. Fortunately, the offense, for once, was awake, and the Mets were able to outlast the Nationals to capture a much-needed win. As the Phillies continue their winning ways, having now won six games in a row, you just have to wonder, if you're a Mets fan, when, if ever, it's going to stop.

Despite my personal dislike for Mike Francesa's on air personality, I was listening to him yesterday afternoon, like I always do, since I put WFAN on in the morning, and it stays on all day. Anyway, as much as I dislike him, he did say a few things about the Mets that I totally agree with. The first being that you have to construct your lineup, at this point, with Reyes one, Beltran two, and Wright three. I've always felt that Beltran is a two hitter; his mental makeup and execution have shown that, over the years, and that Wright, despite his recent struggles, is still the best overall hitter on the team, so he belongs in the three hole.

He also said that if the Mets tank again this year, they need to "re-examine" their core. And I could not agree more. The core of this team has had three years to prove its mettle, and has thus far come up way short, despite the raw talent contained in the bunch. You just have to wonder if these guys are capable of putting the petal to the metal when the chips are down. If they aren't, then it's time to rethink the construction of the team core, and that includes the guys making the decisions.

It might be time to clean house, and start anew.

We'll have to see.

In the meantime, the blog name stays as altered.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Until Further Notice....

...the new, renamed blog shall remain renamed.

The truth, however badly it hurts, is eminently preferable to writing puffed up rah rah pieces with little or no basis in reality, attempting to dig into the depths of the mire hoping to find some shred of something upon which to hang our hopes for this hapless franchise.

This year, is last year, is next year, if they don't wise up.

And if you think tonight's going to be any better, I have two words for you - Brandon Knight.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Wah, Wah, Mike Francesa...

...wah, wah, wah. Mike Francesa just spent the better part of the last half hour, at least, whining and wah-wah'ing about the unfair treatment he believes he's received in the press about the breakup of the M&MD Show on WFAN. Mostly, what was revealed to me in this wah-wah'ing is (a) Mike's ego knows no bounds; (b) he's very hurt by the whole thing; and (c) he's probably turned off at least half of his audience, who will probably return the favor and turn HIM off, as well.

Face it, Francesa, your nastiness has now come back to bite you in your rather substantial butt. People actually LIKED Dog, and that just kills you, doesn't it? It's not enough for you to be successful in your ventures, which you obviously are (and don't hesitate to remind us), but you want to be liked, admired, and loved by your fans. Just because you're you. I never thought I'd say this to you, but grow up, and take it on the chin.

Now maybe you know what it feels like to be a part of the New York media circus. Certainly, you've dished out your share of it. Man up, shut up, and take it. It's well earned, in my opinion.

And therefore, Mike Francesa, I nominate you as the first candidate for this Friday's Go Fuck Yourself Award. Hmmmm... we shall see. Considering the state of the Mets these days, there look to be many worthy contenders for the award this week...On the bright side, if he doesn't win the Friday GFYA, there's always Coop's BPPOTW award next Tuesday!

Of course, all of this brings me to last night's debaucle in our nation's capitol. You know, the one where a team resembling last year's Mets played the Washington Nationals. Yeah, that game, where the offense continued its pathetic ways against John Cy Young Lannan; Pedro Martinez continued to prove why he should not be let anywhere near Citifield next year; and the Mets continue to prove to their fans why no lead is safe and serve up a nice shiny new example, every night, of why many fans have very simply lost their confidence in this team.

And the Big Pussy's Pick of the Week Goes To...

That collective noise you hear from the lakes region is one of "WAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!"

This week, the BPPOW goes to that team in the midwest that makes the Mets handling of the 2007 "collapse" and subsequent firing of Willie Randolph overnight on the West Coast look like a lesson in professionalism -- the Milwaukee Brewers!!!

For the past two seasons, the "buzz" in baseball fan land is that the Brew Crew are gonna be a tough team to beat. With young talent like Ryan Braun, Corey Hart and Prince Fielder leading the way, plus Ben Sheets and Jeff Suppan anchoring the rotation, you'd think this team is gonna give you a hard time.

So when the Mets went into town and swept them (without having to face the pitcher that has basically dominated the National League since he came over, C.C. Sabathia), of course, it had to with the fact that the Mets were superior and the Brew Crew were not all they were cracked up to be.

Until last weekend, when NL East arch rivals the Phillies came in and did the same exact thing.

This time, the sweep had many implications for all teams involved. One was that the Mets magic number could potentially go down without even having to win a game. Of course we should all know we can't rely on that happening when it comes to the Phillies (See: 2007 and the whole month of September).

Two was that the Phillies would gain ground on the Wild Card race and the Brewers would lose ground. You'd think that would be motivation enough for the Brewers to bring their A-game, right?

But yes, the Mets would certainly sweep the Braves (and would have, had it not been for that pesky bullpen) and send Larry Jones home teary-eyed in the place he named his son after. And we wouldn't need to pay attention to the Phillies/Brewers outcome, right?


No, alas, the Brewers took it one step further. Not only did they get swept into oblivion, the Wild Card race is tied...and now, the Mets can't seem to buy a run against the Nationals. Yes you read that right. The Nationals. The last scene I watched was David Wright killing a potential rally in the 8th inning. I am going on Mets sabbatical for the rest of this week because of it.

Oh yeah, and the Brewers fired their manager Ned Yost 13 games into the month...with 12 games left. In the middle of the pennant race.

Now, the irony of it is...the Brewers have had it a lot worse than the Mets did. Okay, so going through the "collapse" as fans...that was rough. And I mean, I went to Milwaukee last year and their fans are happy for effort (could you imagine that in New York?) I doubt their fans even really noticed. But there was one point in 2007 when the Brewers were up something like 8.5 games...and I guess because a.) they don't play in New York where everything is amplified and b.) it was in the middle of the season and not at the very last day of the season, Yost was left off the hook.

But there were also rumblings that Yost had lost his team. Shit, when I was there, Johnny Estrada and Yost fought in the tubes of the dugout. They came out and said everything was "all right." But when the dugout erupted again in August of this year...that should have been a sign. THINGS ARE NOT ALL RIGHT IN THE LAND OF BRATS BEER AND CHEESE.

But if there was a time to fire Ned Yost, it would have been last year.

So will the Brewers make the playoffs? I don't know. I almost hope not. It gives the Mets a chance to win either the division or the Wild Card.

I'd like to spank the Phils though in the division. That's just me.

So congratulations Brew've made the Mets actually look professional. Aw right! Now let's see if Dale Sveum (???) can right that ship!

Monday, September 15, 2008

The MONDAY Go Fuck Yourself Award....

....yeah, yeah, I know, it's the FRIDAY Go Fuck Yourself Award, but perhaps I gave the award away waaaaayyyyy too hastily, although heaven knows Friday's two recipients were eminently well qualified to receive it. Or should I say, well UN-qualified, in the case of one of the recipients.

But today, I simply have to give another award to the New York Mets bullpen, who, in case you don't know by now, blew two leads of more than one run going into the top of the ninth inning over this past weekend, against none other than the Atlanta Braves, who I guess are still driving the Mets and their fans crazy...after all these years. Still crazy, after all these years... *sigh.* Paul Simon, enter and sign in, please....

The off-again on-again Met offense certainly doesn't help the bullpen situation, either. It just seems to me as if this team still believes it can turn it off and on at will, measures itself and its performance accordingly, and might have learned the sum total of NOTHING from last year's historic collapse. The amount of men left on base is staggering, as is the amount of blown offensive opportunities, and lack of fundamental execution of late on the part of the offense. And the amount of inning-killing double plays they are suddenly hitting into.

And I want to know, seriously, why the Mets consistenly fail to execute offensively, and continuously blow leads in Santana-started games. I mean, disproportionately to the leads blown in games started by anyone other than Johan Santana. I see lots of folks out there who believe that Santana will be the difference between what happened last year, and what will happen this year, but honestly, after Saturday's game, and in view of the team's propensity for blowing leads in his games, I'm just not sure I agree with that at all.

And I'm plenty pissed that the staggeringly poor performance of the Met bullpen this weekend forced me into having to award the Go Fuck Yourself Award out of turn. That's how BAD they were.

And I had a lot of other stuff about which I wanted to write today, but I just can't, because the Met bullpen encroached on otherwise fertile writing territory.

So, boys, a hearty and hale go fuck yourselves to ya. Thanks for singlehandedly ruining the weekend of every Met fan out there. Thanks for nothing.

Friday, September 12, 2008

The Friday Go Fuck Yourself Award...

Well, folks, I had a really hard time deciding upon whom to bestow this week's honor, considering how fucked up things are these days, in just about every walk of life. Well, on second thought, make that in EVERY walk of life.

So, I have decided that this week it's a tie between *drum roll* *drum roll* *drum roll*....none other than The New York Yankess and Sarah Palin.

You all know my deep and abiding loathing for The Franchise, a/k/a The New York Yankees. Everything the Yankees does seems to be gargantuan. They play in "The Cathedral" *roll eyes." They refer to "The Cathedral" as "The Stadium," as if everyone just KNOWS "The Stadium" must mean, you know, THE STADIUM, YANKEE STADIUM, THE PLACE WHERE THE YANKEES PLAY.

Yawn, yuck, barf and hurl. For this week, the Yankees allowed The Angels, who perennially give The Yankees a good and solid whuppin', reason alone to be a fan of theirs, to clinch the AL West while playing them.

But of course, the best part of the whole Yankee deal this year is having the ability to say The Fouth Place Yankees, Who Are All But Mathematically Eliminated From The Playoffs This Year, and have it be MORE than a pipe dream.

So Yankees, take your Cathedral, The Stadium, your pinstriped candyasses, your A-Rod, your Dreck Jeter, your fan base, and Michael Kay... and kindly Go Fuck Yourself.

There now, I feel better.

Now, onto my next pick, Sarah Palin. If I even have to explain this one, especially in light of her brandidy new interview with Charlie Gibson of WABC, then you're either trying to get your head out of the ass it's buried in, or you're on another planet. Or you're on this planet, and actually embrace the right wing garbage she so eagerly, if not well and efficiently, spouts.

I hope the Bush Doctrine spot will be used and used and used and overused by the media until every single person in America has seen it, and gets it.

And perhaps she believes that we should believe that she knows something, please, God, ANYTHING, about foreign policy because, after all, Alaska is "so close" to Russia. I'm not even going to get into her comments about Russia, and Georgia (fortunately, she at least knew the "Georgia" about which she was speaking was the one in Asia, and not in North America, thank goodness).

The woman is as qualified to be Vice President (let alone President), as Osama bin Laden is to be head of the United Nations, Jose Canseco is to be spokesperson for ethical behavior in sports, or your local science teacher is to be head of NASA.

And John McCain IS, after all, 72 years old, and has known health issues, including a history of cancer.

So Sarah, go fuck yourself -- if you can't even manage to come off as intelligent, informed, prepared and coherent in an interview with the mild-mannered pro-Republican Charlie Gibson, let alone the rest of the press, well.... as I said, go fuck yourself, and take your idiot politics with you.

Guess ol' Charlie The Republican is as worried about the direction of the party as are the Democrats.

And finally, enjoy this little tidbit from George's Blog. How's THAT for weekend food for thought?

Thursday, September 11, 2008

NEWS FLASH: Angels Clinch AL West With Win Over Yankees...

...and will miracles never cease?!!!! How fitting is it that the California Angels, always a perennial pain in the ass to the New York Yankees, clinch the division last night with a win over the floundering Yankees. That, capped with the Met win last night and the Philly loss, is what you call, for Mets fans, a perfect day.

As some have been known to say on occasion, hallelujah!

And anybody else notice HOW QUIET YANKEE FANS HAVE GOTTEN? Miracle number two, and counting...

Here's something else I noticed over this past season, and over the last few days in particular. And that's that I never understood what people saw in Lastings Milledge, and after watching his play this past season, I'm even more convinced that the New York Mets definitely got the better of the trade in the persons of Ryan Church and Brian Schneider. So, chalk up another one for Omar. LMillz looked horrible in the outfield, looked as if he had little clue what to do out there, and didn't exactly set the stadium on fire at the plate. Unseasoned? Maybe. Needs more major league experience? Maybe. But from where I sit, he looks like really raw material with the baseball instincts of, say, Jay Payton *snicker*, and frankly, I'm glad he's gone.

In other news, Aaron Heilman continues to stink up the joint. Not that he didn't have company last night in stinking up the joint, pitching wise, but he, already on thin ice with Jerry Manuel, probably didn't help himself thicken the ice any with last night's performance, if you can call it that.

I think at this point, the best place of Aaron Heilman next year is ABNY, which of course, is Anywhere But New York. It's best for him, best for the Mets, best for everyone concerned. It's clear that for whatever reason, he ain't gonna make it here.

And all those extra batting practice sessions and "talks" with Jerry Manuel seem to be working for David Wright, who is resurging offensively, thank goodness. It was getting very tiresome watching him strike out, fly out, ground out, and otherwise make an out at the plate over the past month or so.

And anybody notice the common thread in most of this Mets stuff? I'll give you a hint - JM. And that doesn't stand for Junior Mints......!!!!! Still can't figure it out? Of COURSE you can; the common thread in all of this is very simply the person of Jerry Manuel. With his sense of humor, sense of the absurd, common sense approach to the game, rapport with the players (least of which is the formerly inept Carlos Delgado), ease with the press and fans, and undeniable success with this team since he took over from the hapless Willie Randolph (Willie who?), Jerry Manuel has certainly earned the job as Mets manager for at least next year, if not beyond.

Very simply put, if anyone out there thinks the Mets would be where they are if Willie Who was still at the helm, I invite you to contact me with regard to buying a bridge I've been trying to sell...!!!

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

And The Big Pussy Pick of the Week Goes To...

Someone probably no one (including me) expected me to ever give this award to.

Oliver Perez.

Now, I have to admit that Ollie P was worth his weight in gold during the big games. But in games like tonight, against the NATIONALS, who were scoring left and right off not only brought back shades of last September (umm, let's not go there right now, Carlos Delgado just hit two home runs, let's keep it light), but that Ollie seems like the Yankees (a team of pussies, but that's besides the point)...

When it's not a big game, he doesn't show up, physically or mentally.

Every one in Metsopotamia knows my adoration for Oliver Perez, or Oh Pea as I call him. It's legendary, as I mentioned on Mets Weekly a few weeks back. In fact, I would even go so far to say that up until a few weeks ago, I thought he pretty much was over the hump. You think, it's his walk year, he's playing for a contract, he has Boras whispering in his ear, he's gonna be on his game.

And he shows up...for games against the Phillies. Games against the Yankees. Those where he will be on the proverbial "big stage."

That's great. I love that Ollie. Can that Oliver "Dr. Jekyll" Perez stay? And can Ollie "Hyde" Perez go bye bye?

When he can't keep a lead against the NATIONALS, a bunch of "softball girls" as Nelson Figueroa said last year, we're in trouble.

So here's a big FUCK YOU OLLIE. I'm through with you. I'll be laughing when your ERA is 8.99 at the Ballpark in Arlington when the Rangers are the only team dumb enough to cave into your demands, you big fuckin pussy.

"The Sun Has Been There For 500, 600 Years"....

...former Mets outfielder Mike Cameron, after former teammate Carlos Beltran lost a ball in the sun during a game against the Dodgers...

Yeah, I know, I have a place for stupid stuff on this here blog, but that one was just too good to relegate to subprime status. Because, well, you know, one of the things that I think is important in a player is his innate intelligence, which in turn, gives him the ability to contemplate, absorb, educate and teach himself about the game of baseball, how to best play it, how to apply his particular gifts and talents to it, and how to grow as a player and a teammate.

All of those things is kind of why I'm glad we don't have players like Jay Payton or Mike Cameron on the team anymore. In my view, they're both the kind of dumbass stunad throwback type of players we just don't need anymore.

And you know who else is kind of like that? Billy Wagner. I know, I shouldn't heap on a guy who's got a serious and perhaps career-ending injury, but I honestly have to say that maybe the loss of Wagner is a blessing in disguise for the Mets. Why, you ask? Why, especially when the bullpen this year consists of little but guys who can somehow be jury-rigged together with a little hope and some crossed fingers, praying that we somehow get to the end of the game with the lead still intact? Well, because I think the team has outgrown Wags, and I'd like to see a closer developed from within.

*Gasp!*, say you? And who might that be? Well, I submit that with the plethora of young arms that we have, all of those plethora probably dying to get a shot in the major leagues, we can find and develop from within, save a ton of money, and use the money saved for a QUALITY second baseman (if we can dump Castillo, somehow, that is), upgrade first base (more later), and add to the outfield and bench depth.

I'm not a huge believer in "The Closer," anyway. If you look around both leagues, there's no more than a handful of guys that you'd want to close your games, and even out of those, there's no more than one or two that you can really trust, day in and day out. I've said for a long time that it might be time to rethink the closer role, which came into prominence with the advent of the Mariano Rivera Era, but there is only one Mariano, and other closers have had a terrible time trying to live up to his standards. In fact, none has. Especially NOT Billy Wagner. And especially NOT Billy Wagner in big situations.

And it's all back to that intelligence thingy again. I think there is enough intelligence on the Mets, and in the organization, and especially in the head of Jerry Manuel, that they have the ability to think outside the box, and come up with a solution to the closer problem. And I really think that there is someone in the organization that will step up and truly give his all to fill the role.

In other news, the Mets have announced that the old apple will not survive Shea Stadium. And may I say, two thumbs up to the Mets' organization for that one. It's time Mets fans moved on and forward. The apple will, I'm sure, take its place in Mets folklore and nostalgically live on for the fans who love it. But we are moving forward, and sometimes, when moving forward, some old friends have to be left behind.

And one more thing - Pedro Martinez. Based upon what I've seen for the last month or so, I'm wondering if he were anyone BUT Pedro Martinez, if he'd make the postseason roster, assuming the Mets actually get there. My gut reaction is that he wouldn't. And I'm thinking, maybe he shouldn't. But will he? Can he really contribute in the postseason? A roster spot in the postseason is a very valuable one, not to be taken or assigned lightly.

And one more thing. So sue me, I lied about the last thing being one more thing. Carlos Delgado, and first base. I'm thinking that it might be time to move on with first base, as well. Sometimes, it's not so much a matter of options as it is a conscious decision to go in a certain direction. And for my money (and the Mets' money), based upon what I've seen of the manner of play in baseball vis a vis veterans and youngsters, I'm thinking that if I'm the Mets, I'm developing my young talent. No offense to Carlos, who's made a miraculous if not somewhat expected turnaround this past half year (he is up for contract extension, and all), but I'm going to develop or acquire a much younger guy at first base for next year. With the solidity of Reyes and Wright in the infield, the steadying influence of Carlos Beltran in the outfield, the solid and reliable Johan Santana as a part of the pitching staff, the Mets certainly have more than enough veteran leadership.

I say, cut Carlos loose.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

We (Mets Fans) Hold These Truths To Be Self-Evident...

...that all over-the-hill can't-throw-anymore crusty-old-and-I-do-mean-old-veteran-should-be-put-out-to-pasture-picked-off-the-scrap-heap-pitchers men are created equal.


Thursday, September 4, 2008

Stranger in Paradise, And Some Shit That Still Pisses Me Off...

...hey, Mets fans, remember this guy? Just who IS that Stranger in Paradise? Well, rumor has it that he's been throwing off the mound and making progress in returning to the Met bullpen.

If that's not enough of a hint, try these: he likes farm animals; he speaks with an annoying southern flavor and twang; and finally, for the past few years, he's been blowing saves in important games for the Mets.

And NO, it's not Armando Benitez, wise guys!

Of course, I'm speaking of the pictured Billy Wagner, none other. And as I'm reading today about his "progress," I'm really wondering to myself that, if he's ready for the postseason (assuming the Mets make it, of course), how much confidence I'll really have in Billy Boy. While it's undeniable that despite its recent successes, the Met bullpen is in dire need of a rags-to-riches level makeover, I just wonder how much Mets fans think they can count on Billy to save the "big games."

From what I've seen of him as a Met, I'd have to say that while he's better than our current alternatives, that's like saying a punch in the nose is better than a punch in the stomach. Or something like that.

The Mets are fresh off a sweep of one of the better NL teams, the Milwaukee Brewers, that featured timely hitting, good bullpen work, and mostly good starting pitching, with the exception of wookie Jon Niese, whom I think was just mostly nervous, pitching in front of a huge unfriendly crowd with what looked to be every single member of his immediate family, extended family, neighbors, and anybody who's ever heard of him present at Miller Park. I think Jon will be fine, but I think he's seen his last start in The Show this year.

Questions remain about Pedro Martinez, but then, questions always remain about and around Pedro Martinez. His health has always been fragile, and any team that thinks they are going to get a start from Pedro every five days for the entire season has been drinking the Republican Kool-Aid, but that's for another post. The Republican Kool-Aid, that is.

And finally, some shit that still pisses me off, even after all my years on the internet. You wanna know what it is? OK, I'm going to tell you. You dragged it out of me. You forced me into it. What really still pisses me off is idiots on the 'net that have the courage to post as "anonymous," that feel the need to correct every single little faux pas that any message board poster, blogger or commenter makes. You know the type I'm talking about; the ones that can't resist pointing out every spelling error, every misuse of context, every grammatical miscue; the ones that can't stop themselves from hiding behind their 'net anonymity (both a curse and gift to mankind, imo), and not-so-bravely feel the need to assert their perceived superiority, their powers of observation, their advanced intelligence and their munificent egos pointing out the little foiables (notice I've liked that word lately?) of their fellow 'netters, most of whom are actually contributing something to either a message board, blog, website, or whatever.

These little gnats are much like their namesakes -- almost invisible, tiny pieces of annoying waste, who seem to exist for little purpose other than annoying every other form of life in the universe.


Tuesday, September 2, 2008

And The Big Pussy's Pick of the Week Goes To...

Two non-Mets!!

See it's tough to get on the case of the Mets these days, especially those who my wrath was usually reserved for (*cough cough* Delgado *cough cough* Heilman). When all is well, see, it's tough to call your team for being pussies. Although there is a lot of baseball to be played...

This week's pick is a tie between Jimmy Rollins from the Phillies and Cody Ross of the Marlins!

(and the crowd goes wild!)

Okay, it should be no surprise that Jimmy Rollins makes this list. I mean, he would have eventually. Just last week, in the heat of the Mets blowing a 7-run lead and losing 8-7 to heated rivals the Phils, Jimmy Rollins had the audacity to make a comment about the celebrations in the Mets dugout, which by the way wouldn't even be a big deal if it wasn't for fucking pussies like Jimmy Rollins and Shane Victorino pointing them out. Here's an idea: DON'T LOOK IN THE DUGOUT. Anyway, here is the most delicious quote: "We don’t talk about celebrations, we just notice them. Nobody in particular. The whole team, you know."

Here is the loose translation I have here:

"We don't talk about celebrations." **I'll just bitch it out to the media instead**

"We just notice them." **How come they have all the fun?**

"Nobody in particular." **Jose Reyes - and why does he get all the recognition? It's not like he won MVP last year after running off his mouth, backing it up, and for an encore, loses three straight in the gift-wrapped postseason, AND hits .269 with 38 stolen bases on the year so far? How come I can't hit .308?**

"the whole team, you know?" **we have the wrong Manuel on our side**

And the funny thing is -- well, karma is just such a bitch. Not only does CoreyNYC over at Metsie find some good ol' fashioned blackmail photos of, hmm, something that vaguely looks like a celebration after getting on base or something, Aramis Ramirez hits a GRAND SLAM in a game that should have been a gimme for the Phils.

Yes, the NL East will be a fun race to watch, but seeing the Phils take it in the pooper with a real solid team outside of the East...well, that's just karma turning its lovely head.

OK now for Cody Ross. This douchebag deserved to get called out weeks ago, when at a game, he got drilled by a pitch by Mike "Big Pelf" Pelfrey, he played dead for a minute, then got up, fake charged the mound, and took his base. But things got interesting last Saturday night, when Ross got hit again, and starting sounding off on Pelf. Of course, he started sounding off when there were about five players separating the two.

Oh and Ross called Pelfrey a "little pussy."

You can't call Pelf a pussy! Only we can call Pelf that!!

But starting a fight with Pelf...hmmm, that is just wrong on so many levels. Ross is 5'9", 203 lbs. Big Pelf is 6'7", 230. No contest.

But the best part of this whole thing is that Pelf backs his shit up (you go, Pelf!) and says he did Ross a "favor" by hitting him with a pitch when he was up on the count 0-2. To which Ross said, you'd think he was 3-0 against us, not 0-3. OK, that's part is true, and while Ross has some pretty decent stats against Pelf (3-for-9 lifetime, 3 RBIs, etc), his overall stats, well, they suck ass. OK, maybe a little respectable with .260/.318/.496 and an .814 OPS. But we all know that Pelf's record against the Fish is an anomaly, and mark the Coop's words here --

Pelf will pitch the first ever Mets no-hitter against the Marlins. And his last out will be Cody Ross. (Hey, I didn't say perfect game...)

You heard it here first folks.

Look, this is a standard rule of thumb -- if there's a dude, a big dude, who is throwing something 90 mph at you, and he's a good FOOT taller than you are...don't start shit.

Fuckin' pussy.

So that's the goods for this week folks. Join me over at My Summer Family and Mets Divas and Dykstraw for some lively entertainment!

Fat Tuesday...., I know it really isn't Fat Tuesday, not THAT Fat Tuesday, the one that kicks off Mardi Gras, but today really is kind of a Fat Tuesday of a sorts, the Mets having restored their lead in the NL East to a full two games over the Phillies by virtue of some nice long weekend ball, so I'm really pretty fat and happy today, as I'm sure is Carlos Delgado.

You all know that I have little love for the guy, let's be honest here. I've been down on him since Opening Day, 2007. And even with his recent surge and exploits, I've been this way/that way about heaping too many accolades on him, wanting to see more, not trusting the short-term success he's had. And you know what? I STILL want to see more, but the more I see, the more I think he really HAS turned some kind of personal corner. He seems more determined and focused than I've ever seen him as a Met, and even seems to be relishing his positive leadership role on the team, something I've not seen in him as a Met.

I'd be lying if I said I still didn't have doubts. But slowly, they are being assuaged by Carlos' success at the plate, defensive performance, attitude and team leadership. And if these continue, well.... we'll see about next year, and bringing him back.

Another reason I'm feeling fat and happy this Tuesday is, well, you guess! That's right, folks, the season-long misfortunes, misplays, miscues, and misdeeds of none other than the New York Yankees. As of this writing, they're seven games behind the Red Sox for the wild card spot in the AL, and it is looking more and more as if we will not be seeing the Yankee pinstripes in the postseason this year. You can just about stick the proverbial fork in 'em.... kinda like the one pictured, just for you Yankee fans.

I've been hoping for this turn of events for many, many years now....and it appears to finally be close to becoming a reality.

And finally, how about that McCain VP pick, huh? Will the Republicans never learn? People who live in glass, or in this case, ice houses, should never, ever, throw stones. And I loved Mr. and Mrs. Palin's statement upon disclosing the five-month
pregnancy of their 17-year-old unmarried daughter, Bristol, which in part, says that they are proud of "her decision" to have the baby.

That's right, "her decision." She had a CHOICE. Something the Republicans want to take away from you, me, and everyone. You see, Bristol Palin CHOSE to have her baby. Which, think about it, is the whole point. The right to CHOOSE. She chose to give life, which is an admirable choice, and one of which she should be proud. But she had the choice.

Food for thought.