Pitching, Pitching, Pitching

I am back in the comfort of my sprawling apartment in DC, back to the giant TV and every baseball game a girl could want.  So last night I watch the nail biter of a game v. the Brewers. This nail biting thing has become a little too de rigeur these days. While it makes for great baseball, it has been giving me heartburn for the last week or so. As was early in the season, the culprit seems to be pitching. 

Pitching, pitching, pitching.

They got through it last night, by the skin of their pretty little asses. But mostly because of the incredible defensive play of the team. Amazing catches by little Nick, badass throws as fast as gunfire from Endy!, David tackling the ball more like a defensive end then a third baseman. 

Last night was all about saving themselves from a melting bullpen. And they did it. Ten innings, 6-5. As long as the bats are alive, they may survive September.

As for some of the candidates, I am not quite as certain. 

At Least Someone's Winning

Ah Metsies...you're killing me, killing me. The series of losses endured against San Diego have been tragic... matzo bats are the death knell. Oh well, at least the pitching hasn't fallen apart, right?

The good news is that yesterday I toured Buenos Aires on a bicycle and just loved it. Although the drivers are a bit sketch, it was thankfully a weekend and I managed to survive without incident. On the tour, we went through a neighborhood called La Boca, which is the namesake of the soccer team. The team- the Boca Juniors - seem to be quite the rage in BsAs and even throughout Latin America according to my sources. All over you can see people in Boca Jr's gear. I daresay they are the New York Yankees of soccer. But this year, they lost to Brazil.

There's another team in Buenos Aires. But it appears they are less adored by the throngs of soccer afficiandos across the land. River Platte they are called and they suffer from second class status. In fact, I have yet to see more than a splash of red and white around town. Sound familiar?

But, how tables turn. They are now the team that is making stuff happen. Today they beat Olimpo for the Clausura Tournament. And La Boca? Done. Toast.

So while maybe the boys of River aren't as popular, it appears they are better. At least the less popular boy wins sometimes.

Losing One Can Mean Everything. Or Nothing.

My favorite part about the MLB package is that you get to watch announcers from all over baseball. So I have been listening with glee to the Dodgers announcer who knows as much about the Mets as the current Congress and President seem to know about policy making.

This false sense of perspective must have worked on me. I fell asleep on the couch sometime in the 4th inning without too much agita. The Dodgers had a pitching meltdown that looked disturbingly Met-like. The boys were winning 4-1. I felt alright going to bed.

But I had ignored the warning signs - no hitting. David Wright striking out. Lots and lots of base runners stranded. I was so focused on the decent pitching and excellent offense, I ignored the soft underbelly... bats as cold as an office building in summertime. Mets lose 5-4.

As in life and in politics, you can't have it all. Sometimes you win one, sometimes you lose one. As this stage of the baseball season it's not just one that makes the final decision. As for politics, I guess we'll see in Denver.

What the West Can Do

West coast baseball is a sleep killer. The games don't come on until 10 and by midnight I am usually begging to be put to bed. Last night was no different; after watching the first inning of Oliver Perez I figured I could go to bed because I already knew the outcome.

He was battered by the batters (literally by a pitch) and just seemed to lack concentration at times. Sigh. Nothing new here, unfortunately. Just a repeat of the last two outings.

Now it could have been worse, in the end it was only 5-1. And the Dodgers are hot, hot, hot. But, I'm not sure this was the team I saw pounce on Arizona just a few days ago. Who the hell showed up last night? Maybe it's California, we know what it can do to you. Just ask Barack.

Settling In For the War

For just a moment watching the Mets v. Braves today, I felt bad for the Braves. In an emotion I am all too familiar with, I watched an aging pitcher fall part. But this time it was John Smoltz (because of course, every aging Mets pitcher is already on the DL).

This tiny weakness was enough for the Mets bats to wake up, including two, yes TWO, big ass home runs by Carlos D. Beautiful. I, along with pretty much all of Metland, have been trashing Carlos D. for not performing. Today was a welcome change; I guess Friday's mental health day did its' voodoo.

The bullpen even held it together, Schoenweis included. 6-3, the boys are back. We won the battle. The war? Tied for second with Philly, where half the team is on the DL. Let's settle in for a long season gang, just like another contest that won't be settled until later this year.

Loss in Politics and Baseball

Am home watching Pennsylvania returns, no baseball. And after last night's gut wrenching loss to the Cubs, I was grateful to miss the Mets daytime slaughtering. Last night, 7-1 and today 8-1.

And a bloodbath it was today, identical to yesterday. Bullpen takes over; Mets fall apart. Last night Heilman, today Sosa. My relievers that not only give no relief, they give away the damn game. Bats asleep, even my boyfriends couldn't get it going.

I mourn, I loss, I grieve, I move on. Is this how life feels at Obama HQ tonight? Spent so much, but just not getting enough to win.

Exorcise the Ghosts

Poor Metsies. Last night's 5-4 loss to the Phillies was a tough pill to swallow. It was supposed to get easier without Jimmy Rollins. And it was. Until last night.

Pelfrey's pitching was ok (nothing remarkable and nothing near his last appearances). The Mets defense, on the other hand, was excellent - they contained the Phillies to just four runs until a 6th inning that was as momentous as Iowa for Obama. Four runs, tie game.

But the relievers came in and the Mets went back to their early spring ways. Stranding base runners, striking out while swinging. The ghosts of the past.

My PTSD

Yesterday was the most loveliest day so far in 2008. The temperature in DC was nearly 80, amazing sunny skies and a lovely breeze AND the Mets were atop the NL East for the first time since last year's "special time". But it's only April, so I spent the day on my beautiful new bike and caught the extremely tense last two innings of the game against the Philles.

I'm sure I've written about how I want to be a pitcher in my next life. I'm not sure, however, if I would not end up suicidal if I were to actually become a pitcher. The idea that you can almost give the other side the game in the 8th inning, as Heilman almost did yesterday, would induce me to a pawn shop or a pharmacist for sure. Who can take the tension of knowing that YOU lost it? Gave the shit away! But then I realized that you need a whole posse to back you and unless the ball goes out of the park (which is no too hard in Philly), you are not alone with the burden.

But none of this happened. Heilman pulled through, Wagner pulled through, the outfield pulled through. I think I just have PTSD from last year. Deep breath. One day at a time.

Praying for a Surge

The Mets have had a lovely week thus far, pounding the Nats in a manner reminiscent of Desert Storm. Pitching, alive and well, even Mike Pelfrey. But tonight, it is now 11 pm and things are starting to look more like the more recent foray into a large, oil filled country in the Middle East.

It's the 12th inning, the Mets barely scrambled to the 2-2 tie in the 8th. It's not the pitching. Again, we are suffering from the bats that are as flat as matzoh. Passover is Saturday boys. I need my surge today. It may or may not work, but if it's all you got, it's all you got.

Bitter Boos

Life took over for a few days (while the Mets crumbled and bungled), but now I am back, baby! Not going to bring you the now rancid leftovers of the last two days, but the chattering on Mets blogs and even the notoriously lame NY Times sports section is the boo. For you non-rabid Met fans the 127 137.5 million dollar pitcher, Johan Santana, was booed by Met fans on Sunday for a less than 127 a 137.5 million dollar worthy appearance. He's not the only one - Mets fans will boo at any sliver of ineptitude, particularly from pitching.

The Times asks if this because of last year's collapse, which I don't think it is. Met fans always booed. We are a rowdy, angry bunch. Bitter, some might say. Not just from last year but from two decades of not making it. And the last time we did, it was with the meanest, craziest, nastiest guys in baseball. What the hell do you expect?

I just hope our bitterness doesn't drive us to guns or religion. Or the Yankees.

They're Alive

I saw the NY Mets last night - capitalizing on every error by the hated (but not reviled, I save that for the Braves) Phillies. Now where the hell were they this weekend?

8-2 and the bullpen held it together. Pelfrey held it together. The bats sort of performed (not so much as the Phillies bullpen melted down, but I'll take it).

Change in momentum = change in attitude= wins. In life and in baseball.

Three Makes a Trend

And we're almost there.... Yesterday was a repeat of what we saw with the Braves. The relievers that bring no relief giving up the hard earned lead of the starters. That and again with the stranded runners.

The Mets are starting to look a little bit like the Democrats. Where is our Obama now? Not that he would be a guarantee of victory in the fall, but at least we could bump up our win/loss record.

Early Spring Torture

Yes, tortured today with the Mets getting creamed by the Braves. The source of torture? Death by pitcher. The same pitcher I raved about just days ago - Johnny Maine. Johnny only led me down to the dungeon. The true pain came from the middle relievers that haunted me all of last year - the S's... Smith, Schoeneweis. But the best - Sosa, who gave the Braves a grand slam. Goodbye.

The pisser in this, aside from the damn pitching, is the Mets leaving so many runners stranded on base. This eluded them last season and today aided in the trouncing.

I ordered the MLB package which seems a little sadistic after today. 160 bucks for nearly daily torture.

Early for Ugh

I'm trying not to meltdown, it's early for a meltdown. Maybe Pedro's injury last night was an April Fools' Joke? It wasn't. This seems worse than Howard Dean's scream was for the Democrats - or at least how it scream seemed in January 2004.

We still got Johnny, we still got Ollie. As long as our Johnny isn't like the Dems Johnny, we should be all fine.

The Bitch Is Back

Yes, yes, I realize it has been too long. Too many months where you have been starved of Mets news through the eyes of a lunatic woman who only marginally knows about baseball. But the good news is, I am back!

I did not write during Hot Stove season, only because a gal needs a break. Last season was so... well, you know. I just needed to step away. But I am bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready for a fantastic season. And right now super hot on Johnny Maine, who has has a super duper spring training, keeping his ERA under 2.  While in end of last year was not easy for anyone, it was his first full season pitching in regular rotation with the Mets and that experience will take him far this year. Keep your eye on him, he just may be our Obama (or at least that is what I am telling all the dudes who are looking for picks for their fantasy teams).

RIP 2007

It's over. Boston won. I have many a friend who had a spring in their step this morning (albeit a tired one), relishing the Boston win combined with enjoying the arrogance of A-Rod and that Scott Boras character.

Nonetheless, one of my favorite people in the office (our intern), asked me today if I thought the outcome was an indicator of the dominance of the American League over the National League. I had to weigh the facts. While last year was an NL victor (the Cardinals), the last 10 years have been dominated by the AL. But what I decided is the Colorado Rockies probably didn't represent the best the NL had to offer. Why you ask? They were good, but not the best at anything. The best hitting in the NL? The Phillies. The best pitching? San Diego.

It's not that I don't like the Rockies; I'm just not sure they were the best team in the NL in 2007. Oh well, is the WS about the best team anyway? Not necessarily. Sometimes these types of contests are not indicative of the best in show. Look at some of the past Presidential races.

Sitting Shivah

It's dead. Over. And I did not really talk about it today and asked everyone in the office (the boys really), to not talk to me about baseball today. They didn't.

The rabid NY media have already started feeding on the corpse of the 2007 Mets, so I won't be too harsh as I join the group 'o buzzards. But what I will say is that I don't think Willie deserves to be fired. I think the end result was a team that had a lot of talent, but ravaged by injuries could never again quite find the full glory of those sweet spring days.

Pitching was always a nagging problem and in the end it took us down. Aging pitching, along with young pitching with tons of potential proved to be the wrong combination for a long season. The older bodies couldn't hack it, the younger ones proved to be too inconsistent to deliver every time (although I think both John Maine and Oliver Perez were highlights of this team and will deliver for years to come).

Oli and Johnny were not the only highlights.... David Wright was spectacular all around and we'll see more of him next year. Mosies Alou, at 41, was key to keeping us even half alive in the second half of the season. The youngins' --- Endy, Anderson, and Milledge all have lots of potential.

Just a bit on attitude: Post All Star Break there was definitely a slide in the attitude of some of the players. And this is the thing that lost it for the Mets. They collapsed on themselves.

It doesn't change how sad I am. I will watch the playoffs and will occasionally post my thoughts about them. But I won't be rooting for anyone, my season has passed.

No Dessert for Me

So gang, we are here. We made it through September and we are on the verge of embarking on October baseball, my favorite part. It was so close, I could taste it on the tip of my tongue, smell the ruminations of it as I pulled out my sweaters and boots.

I am supposed to be enjoying this, it is supposed to be delicious, it is supposed to be like dessert, after a long season of struggle, triumph, victories, defeats. But no dessert for me. I am stressed, sad, hurt, angry, upset, sugar deprived and just generally on suicide watch at this point.

How can it be that we dominated all season long and for the last two weeks we look like the Rockford Peaches could take us down? I just can't understand how we could come so far, but it could all feel so faraway. I know if you are reading this, you know what I am talking about.

I know we have all lost confidence in the Mets pitching, but some words from pitching coach Rick Peterson in tomorrow's Times:

“It doesn’t make sense to think about the past for the next four games,” Peterson said. “The present is really a good place to be.”

Baseball's no different than anything else - One day at a time, one day at a time. It's all I've got.

Oh Where, Oh Where Has it Gone?

Our pitching, that is. I didn't want to fully discuss, but last night's super painful 13-4 raping by the Nats is the end of my silence. The sad thing is, I can tell you where- it has gone to the last 156 games and staying in first all season, albeit today by just 2 games.

There were pitchers last night that I never even heard of warming up in the bullpen. And I have been paying attention, I promise.

I just can't believe this is where we are with just a week left in the season. No political analogies; I need to research some great comebacks, cause at this point I can't see any on the current political front.

I Just Couldn't Cope...

Am watching from home tonight. After the incident that conspired last evening, I thought it best to have a swim, find some zen and take tonight's events from a safe place. My couch. So far, 7-3, Mets.

UPDATE: Johnny Maine melted down; 8-7 Nats. I am foraging for ice cream. Pitching, pitching, pitching, where have you gone?