template for further losses to statistically bad-to-mediocre teams

September 27, 2007

The Mets jumped out to an early lead thanks to [home run/RBIs] from [the middle of the order]. It’s nice to see the boys jumping on the lowly [statistically bad-to-mediocre team] early, giving the Mets an early burst of confidence and the [statistically bad-to-mediocre team] a reason to phone it in.

[Mets starting pitcher], afforded a big lead, came out looking brilliant, keeping the ball down, throwing strikes, making the [statistically bad-to-mediocre team] swing at junk and look silly. He ran into a bit of trouble in subsequent innings, lost a bit of control, but was generally able to get out of some jams. Meanwhile, the Mets were able to tack on runs and add on to their lead.

But then the fifth inning happened. Oh the fifth inning. Why does it seem like it’s always the fifth inning? The previous innings almost seemed like foreshadowing for the fifth. [Mets starting pitcher] allowed a leadoff [walk/hit] and, instead of bearing down, then allowed another [walk/hit]. He was immediately taken out in favor of [hapless bullpen reliever], who, faced with a jam, allowed an RBI [single/double]. Everything started to spiral out of control, as [yet another hapless bullpen reliever] allowed more runners to score, and just like that, the Mets found themselves down [some score that seemed implausible an hour before].

Faced with such turmoil, the Mets bats decided to take a nap. [Strikeout/groundout] followed by [walk/single] followed by inning-ending [strikeout/groundout/Jose Reyes pop-out/David Wright or Carlos Delgado or Paul Lo Duca GIDP].

Fortunately, [formerly hapless bullpen reliever] pitched a shockingly clean inning, followed by another scoreless one by [sometimes hapless sometimes nasty bullpen reliever]. But [headcase closer], faced with a tight game, allowed it to be blown wide open with a leadoff [walk/single/homerun] and then an RBI [single/double] before finally closing out the ninth after something like [crazily hyperbolic number] pitches.

The Mets went a meek 1-2-3 in the ninth, their comeback magic clearly depleted from [that one recent game where a furious rally got them a miraculous win or a “moral victory” of only losing by one run after it being a blowout].

what’s worse?

September 26, 2007

Thanks to the generosity of Mets Grrl, I was at the Mets game last night, and also met up with Zoe and Coop. After the Nationals (the freakin’ Nationals) spotted four runs (including YET ANOTHER 3-run bomb by Austin Kearns) in the first inning, well, it kinda killed all joviality I had. But still, it was early. The Mets would try to rally, the Nats would score again. Seemingly before I realized it, the top of the ninth was over, the Nats up 10-3. I looked at the clock. I listened to my grumbling stomach. My eyes were getting heavy, as was my heart. And I decided to leave. I’ve never before left a ballgame before it was over, no matter what the score. I don’t believe in it. But something about the way this team has played for the past week and a half–I guess I just gave up, not wanting to put myself through the agony, through the heartache, even though I sat through 8 and a half innings of Mets mediocrity.

After transferring from the 7 to the G and waiting for what seemed like an hour, a guy in the subway saw me in my hat and asked, “Were you at the game?” I shrugged and said, “Yeah, I left early. They were sucking.” He said, “Did you hear what happened?”

My eyes lit up, my heart started beating again. “NO!” I cried. “What happened?”

He grimaced. I still had hope in my face. “The Mets scored six runs in the bottom of the ninth–”

My face was like this: 😮

“Chavez was running for Alou. Delgado struck out, Chavez stole third.”


“Then Lo Duca flied out. 10-9, Nationals.”

Me: 😦 “That is fucking bullshit.”

Cute Jewish guy overhearing conversation: “I left too. We should’ve stayed. Gotten at least some excitement out of that game.”

Me: 😦 “That is fucking bullshit.”

My compatriots stayed. You can read their thoughts here and here. So I ask, what’s worse? Is it worse to have left before the bottom of the ninth, your team losing what seems like a blowout, only to hear later that they made a valiant effort and nearly came back to salvage the game? Or is it worse to have stayed there through the nitty-gritty, have gotten your hopes up, only to have them finally, brutally dashed?

I know what I think. I’m never leaving a baseball game again, not until the final bloody out. And I never ever thought I would, not in my life. It is an embarrassing indictment of my constitution as a fan of a team I so desperately love, in spite of how frustrating they are. I shouldn’t have questioned this team’s heart. I shouldn’t have questioned their bats.

The pitching, on the other hand. Well. Last night was certainly not its strong suit.

congratulations are in order!

September 24, 2007

In spite of a poopy loss yesterday, the Boston Red Sox became the first team to clinch a playoff berth this weekend. Hooray, MetSox Desperation Pact! Now if you can just hold off those pesky Yankees, because even though everyone in Red Sox Nation is all “Blahblah at least we’re in the playoffs blahblah WICKED,” you know they don’t want to give up the division after leading by 47,892 games in May and if they do we’ll be fucking hearing about and hearing about and…Well done, Sox! To celebrate, let us gaze upon the hottest man on your roster:


Speaking of Native Americans, welcome back to the postseason, Cleveland! I don’t know much about you guys, except apparently everyone is really chipper. That and I can’t believe you guys still get away with that logo. However, I do love any team that celebrates a division title with Bud Light bukkake.

Huminahuminahumina. I feel all kinda hot and bothered right now.

Oh, just for good measure:





Finally! Congrats on the AL West title to the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, California in Orange County! As I mentioned in the comments here, I have lived in all seven of those places, so holla!

The sweatiest, wettiest, beeriest gang in all of Anaheim. Gene Autry Way REPRAZENT!

we now live in a world where aaron sele and scott schoeneweis save baseball games

September 23, 2007

+ =

Delicious. Usually I need the above after these two pitch. Instead, today they actually acted like relievers. For fucking once.

Speaking of, after going to two parties last night and taking a klonopin and getting drunk, welp, I woke up so late that when I finally got around to switching on the radio, John Maine gave up a single to Jeremy Hermida and walked Miguel “Thick Around The Middle” (cf. Tim McCarver) Cabrera with the score tied at 2. Fuck, I think, I should’ve just kept sleeping. Pedro Dos comes into the game and K’s Mike Jacobs but gives up an RBI single to Todd Linden. In comes Sosa with runners on second and third with one out! Oh no? Maybe?! Who knows at this point. This bullpen makes no sense on any given day. They can pitch scoreless innings and look badass (what’s up Mota on Friday! Yah srsly!) or they can give up gift runs like Christmas nuns. Sosa with a popout and flyout that Beltran just barely got, hurting himself in the process. Again. Inning over. Phew/Guh.

Guillermo Mota: scoreless bottom of the seventh. Three straight excellent appearances by Mota. WTF?!

The next inning saw Davey work out a walk, yet another pinch hit from BIG FUCKING PIMP Marlon Anderson, and a game-tying single from Moises Alou, who now has a 27-game hitting streak, a Mets record. Combine that with a follow-up 3-run homer by Carlos Delgado, WELL. You have a giddy Mets fan. A 6-3 lead. A thought of “Let’s get Heilman and Billy and close this fucker out.”

How soon we forget about blown 3-run leads. To the Marlins.

Howie and Tom on WFAN noted that the Mets have lost five straight extra innings games. Well that’s just ducky!

In the top of tenth the Mets immediately threaten with singles by Alou and Delgado. A successful sac bunt by Lo Duca moves them up with two outs, only to see the threat squashed by consecutive flyouts. Boo.

So here is where your stomach turns with the thought of the bullpen trying to keep the Mets in the game. That five-game losing streak in extra innings? There’s a reason for that.

Joe Smith comes in for the bottom of the tenth. Now obviously I love Joe, but he’s been spotty since his return to the bigs, so I’m nervous for his performance, nervous for the team, want him to show his mettle. Ho hum, says Joe. How does a strikeout and two groundouts sound? It sounds like a job worthy of ten thousand blowjobs, Joe.

Then! Reyes works out a walk. Castillo singles. On a hit-and-run, MVP Wright slaps a single up the middle to plate Reyes. It could have been a bigger inning except David Newhan was the following hitter and then Alou smoked one to Thick Around The Middle, who was somehow able to outhustle Castillo to double him up on third. The base must’ve looked like a big apple pie à la mode.

A 7-6 lead? No big deal. Just bring in the double-headed save monster known as Seleweis.You’ve gotta be kidding, Willie. WELL! Sele throws three pitches and gets two outs. Schoeneweis gets the third out on a grounder to first. The books, we shall put this in them. Finally, finally the Mets win a game like this. With Seleweis coming up big. I don’t know what’s up or down anymore. And it’s not the klonopin either.

I do know that Philly lost, which moves them to 2.5 behind. The Mets’ magic number is now 5 with seven left to play, all at Shea. Come on boys. Let’s do it at home.

the metsox desperation pact gets some theme songs to laugh at because otherwise you’ll cry

September 21, 2007

I am seriously going crazy.

Beat The Mets (for the Mets fans)
Meet the Mets, beat the Mets
Step right up, defeat the Mets
It’s so easy, bring a knife
Guaranteed you’ll want to take your own life
Because the Mets are really choking and all
Our postseason dreams are crashing into the wall
East side, West side
Everybody’s coming down
To beat the M-E-T-S Mets of New York Town
We’re going down!

Sweet Fucking Christ (for the Red Sox fans)
Where it began, I can’t begin to know when
But then I know we started strong

It was the spring
The lead was wicked awhhhsum
And it’s lasted so long

Yanks! Coming back!
Reaching out
You’re killing me, JD Drew!

Sweet Fucking Christ (ba ba ba)
A-Rod’s never played so good
I’d be surprised
To believe that his bat’s wood…

Is not corked.

Look at the pen
And we see Eric Gagne
We fill Fenway with angry boos
If he gets hurt
Then we’ll just shrug our shoulders
“Even Timlin’s bettah than you!”

Warm pizza thrown
Reaching out
Big Papi hugging you!

Sweet Fucking Christ
This team used to look so good
We’d been inclined
To believe they always would

Sweet Fucking Christ
Will we never be that good
We’ve been inclined
To believe we never would