Boy, it’s sure nice to win a game once in a while, isn’t it?
Even with the Mets’ piss-poor June play, they seemed to show some signs of life in their series with the Yanks, and it just seemed inevitable that they’d wake up and put on a show. So they were only facing Carlos Silva. So what. We’ll take whatever confidence builder we can get, and God knows we need as much as is humanly possible right now.
I met up with Frank The Tank at Copper Door Tavern for cheap wings and beer, and the chance to maybe watch the Mets win a fucking game. We then realized, somewhere around the fifth inning, that Copper Door was hosting some kind of retirement party for two members of the FDNY. At some point a firetruck pulled up screaming across the street and the bar emptied. Pretty great Mets viewing, actually. There was a cheap-ass looking retirement cake too, and I got to talking with one of the firemen (he was old and not hot, oh well) about the Mets, and we’d calm down Frank when he’d scream about Reyes hitting some fouls by saying, “No, he fouled off a certain strike. Good at-bat by Jose.” It’s nice when I get to one-up straight boys with sports knowledge.
It was one of those easy, undramatic winning nights. Great production by everybody on the team (even Ricky Ledee!) and finally a win for John Maine, inconsistent of late but generally pitching winnable ball over the past few weeks when the Mets couldn’t hit a damn thing. Hey, the elder Carloses even got some hits tonight, including a homer for Delgado! Good stuff, guys. Keep it up, ‘cos, uh, Santana is tomorrow. He’s pretty smooth (GRRRROOOOAAAANNNNN!!!!!!!!!!)