Optimism in the Face of Impossibility

After the crap that has been going down, I know what you expect from me. Crying. Whining. Bitching. Moaning. Because the Mets are on the verge of doing the worst possible thing they could - repeating last year.

Instead of the usual bitch session, I am going to try something different. No complaints. I am going to do what Jerry Manuel is doing... say it is possible. Say anything is possible. No, the Wilpons are not paying me. I've decided that if we tell them they are no good, they will be no good. Kind of like children.

Besides, it ain't over 'til the fat lady sings and she is still making her way over from the Bronx.

Better Than Broadway

Oh New York. Such drama. The saga of the Mets has taken on a soap opera feel, with Billy Wagner playing Cruella de Vil in the locker room after the Nats disaster. Instead of a game against the Yankees on Friday, the team had a rain out meeting something like an AA gathering replete with recriminations, apologies and a vow to play like the $100 million plus team the Wilpons and you and me have paid for.

Something worked. Maybe it was the sharing of feelings, maybe it was the thrill of the subway series. Whatever the case, we've got yesterday's win and today's plowdown in the Bronx. 11-2. Now granted there's no A-Rod and no Posada in the Yankees lineup. But it wasn't about that. It was about Oli holding it together and more importantly the Mets bats performing (18 runs over the last two days, which is probably more than the last three weeks).

What's so amazing about the Willie-Billy-Delgado drama is that in any other town it wouldn't have escalated to this point. But other towns don't have the tabloids or the aggressive fans. At least the tale of these two wins after last week will give them what they are all looking for - a damn good show.

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.

Lovin' No One

You know I am happy about the Rockies pounding the crap outta Philly. I am working through my feelings about the 2007 baseball season. I am over sadness, now I am into anger. Not anger at the Mets, but anger at the Phillies. This has been a recurring theme throughout the season, depending on how close on our tail they were. But now, full on rageahol.

Another thing pissing me off? People trying to convert me to their teams. I have been pitched Boston (very aggressively, BTW), sometimes the Yankees (trying the you're a New Yorker kinda logic), even the Indians (this was someone preying on my anti-Yankees sentiment).

I heart no one. And if I was going to remotely heart anyone right now, it would be the Rockies for taking those Phillies down and TBS for being so beautiful in HD. I'm watching right now and it looks like the pitching disease is ravaging all of New York.

Fairytales Do Come True

Yes, I am still sitting shivah for the Mets (which means that you can't make mean jokes for a little while), but I am kinda, sorta watching playoff baseball.

I am not rooting for anyone, but after seeing the preview coverage, as well as stuff about last night's games, it's clear the story of baseball is alive and well. In the political world, all flacks want a consistent story to tell in order to create loyalty, action, a whole host of things. It is no different in baseball. The title of this season? Fairytales Do Come True.

I'm not sure who is a bigger fairytale team: the Rockies, a non East coast team that was nowhere near first place and had a blazing fall, a crazy duel against the Padres (which they won); the F*#cking Phillies (don't need to fill you in on that one); the Cubs, who came back to bite the Brewers in the butt; and of course, the Yankees, who I poked fun at all summer (who I don't like, won't root for, but have to admire their determination).

The only hard part in the fairytale is that nearly all of the teams are in the NL. Oh well, at least MLB will have one fairy to get us to watch the WS.

Half Alive, But Alive Still

8-4, they got it done. It wasn't perfect, but the pitching seems to be alive again (Mike Pelfrey, I misjudged thee). The bats were alive, but the defense remains as sloppy as Fred Thompson's stump appearances.

I am off to the Sunshine State on Friday and I will join the Mets on Saturday with my parents on the holiest day of the Jewish year. Let's hope for the best; I need to believe that somebody up there is a Mets fan, I am kinda starting to wonder. At least we can hope for a better Florida appearance than Thompson endured.

Phillies are still duking it out with the Cards, but we're still at game and a half. It's a big number in New York right now.

A Wash

So, looks like Cincinnati was a wash. Thankfully, Atlanta came back and kicked Philly's butt. No love lost there from me, I can assure you. The Mets are finally riding a wave, hoping they can stay there. Although history tells me it's tough to maintain the balance. Like a campaign, it is not one appearance that typically sinks you, it is a series of bad ones. Or at least your competitors nibbling away at you (Phillies, Edwards, Giuliani).

I am in Boston for work and was fortunate enough to catch the Sox v. Blue Jays. Love Fenway. But at the end of the day, October is coming. And you know what that means? I am a New Yorker through and through. Although not a Yankees fan.

L'Chaim!

Before I get into baseball, a note for you non Jews out there... L'Chaim is a toast that means "to life". If you're a non-Jew rooting for the Mets who is reading this blog and don't know what L'Chaim means, please leave me a comment as I cannot believe you exist.

And we've got a lot to toast.... the sweep, Pedro back and doing alright (fully report in the morn). Bats that are alive and well. We're 5 games up after Atlanta beat Philly, the poetic justice of which I cannot even begin to write about.

All good. And guess who else lost today? The AL Wildcard is gonna be a nail biter. No gloating, just sayin'.

Now I realize this can all fall in a la last week; I just want to enjoy this moment. Delish.

A Thousand Cuts

I was on the phone with my Grandma this morning and she asked me what's goin' on with the Mets. She had noticed that their lead in the division has been eaten up and was concerned. For those of you that don't know, they are up from the Braves just game and a half. A lousy game and a half. I cannot even use numbers to describe it as it is so meager.

It's hard to pinpoint just one thing that got us here. I was thinking about this today as I was having lunch and reading today's Washington Post expose on the collapse of the McCain campaign. The article cites rivalries within the campaign as the catalyst, which is not surprising with the elephantine sized egos that you come across in politics. But that sort of stuff breeds all kinds of other even nastier, pettier and more damaging things. In the end, things collapse under their own weight and while you can try to pinpoint the crux, it is ultimately death by a thousand cuts.

For the Mets right now, they are suffering from about 520 cuts - injuries, matzo bats, and no relief relievers. Not sure how the personalities fully factor into this; after all the Mets are not the Yankees with their soap opera like dramas and subplots worthy of a Page Six spread.

Nonetheless, I went on and on about this over the All Star break. So no more moaning and groaning. We know the diagnosis. Now it's time for relief.

Money Can Sometimes Buy Love (At Least in Baseball)

Washington is always atwitter with a story, a scandal, a drama. Aside from Scooter's weaseling, another big story today is the anemic presidential fundraising of Sen. John McCain.

In politics, money is key. You are constantly compared with your opponents, the money race as heated as the pennant race. In baseball, it seems money doesn't always buy victories. The Yankees, with the highest payroll in baseball, are nowhere near the top of the heap.

What's really interesting is the teams that are competitive with a Dennis Kucinich sized pot. The Brewers (at $70 million), San Diego ($58 million), Cleveland ($61 million) are all in or near first place in their divisions. I realize this is not chump change, but when you look at the Yankees ($190 million), Red Sox ($143 million) or the Mets ($115 million) it looks more Kucinich then Clinton. Check it out here.

Baseball isn't quite like politics - you don't necessarily need the bucks to compete.

UPDATE: Yankees won, so maybe I spoke too soon. And the #3 payroll (the Mets) are crashing and burning in Colorado. Sigh. We'll see. It's June. Just like the fundraising numbers, who's up and who's down will look different come the next quarter.

Intervals

Last night I did the dreaded intervals on the elliptical and watched a little Yankees v. O's. For those of you who don't workout, it's doing a couple of minutes at very high speed and a couple of minutes at a lower speed . It's a good workout, but whenever I do it, I am wiped out. Seriously wiped out. Bottom line: I just hate those things.

Doing this while watching the very intervaled Yankees (who have now dropped 6 of the last 7) and then seeing the Mets 5-3 loss to the cocktail weenie Cardinals reminded me that you have to be careful about winning too many games in a row (unless you are the Red Sox this year) - what comes out on the other side can be awful ugly. Look at the April and most of May for the Mets and then the horrible June.

So, I'm not thrilled about Schoenweis again failing to come through or for Oli not getting the win he worked so hard at trying to get. This was mostly a batting problem (yet again), with a dash of bad pitching. But so it goes. Maybe it will make the next couple of weeks a little less painful.

Look Out!

It's an avalanche. Everything is not working all at once - problem starting pitching, the double Carlos slump, relievers that bring no relief. Everything is malfunctioning and the result is collapse.

What do you do in life when nothing is working right? It's like a day when you spill coffee on your outfit, get stuck in the subway, fight with someone you love, burn your breakfast, forget a meeting, curse your boss -all before 8 am. Ya know what I do? I call in sick.

I realize that is not possible for most baseball players, but sometimes stepping back is the only way to totally forget about what's wrong so you can find the focus to make things right. Looks like we're working for Thursday. And Atlanta and Philly lost today.

The good news? Avalanches are part of nature. And once things fall and re-adjust, things are actually stronger than before. Or at least that's what I gotta believe.

Pain

Am watching Yankees v Mets on ESPN tonight. After yesterday's loss and tonight's shaky beginnings, all I can say is where is the team I saw pre-Italia? These 4 runs are not just El Duque not pitching; the outfield is not fielding. No groove whatsoever. Worse than the drag queens at the Parliament House.

I may pipe in as the game continues, but it ain't pretty in the Bronx (side note: is it ever pretty in the Bronx??)

Yankees are High Fashion?

Arezzo, Italia- Just a quick post from Italy. Sad the Mets lost the Atlanta series, happy to hear Carlos D (not the one from Interpol) is making stuff happen, bummed about Shawn Green.

Italy is georgeous. Rome is chaos and beauty melted together, old stuff in the middle of cities is like the spice that gives it all flavor. Had a quick jet-lagged look around on Friday - went to Piazza Venezia, the Colosseum, and the old Jewish quarter. Jews are everywhere.

A disturbing trend - Yankees hats all over Roma worn by the natives. Guess Yankees are high fashion. Good for baseball, I suppose.

We got our bikes and began our journey yesterday. Picked up bikes in Orvietto, got back on the train for an hour, then rode about 40 kms to Arezzo. Jenny chatted up an Italian woman who recommended an inexpensive, clean and convenient B and B...love that! Ate an amazing meal after an insane thunder and hail storm that we managed to avoid. Took pics of restaurant, but cannot figure out how to upload.

Today, we are off to Lucca, trying to avoid Florence and the tourists. We'll see how it goes.

Ciao!

Ya Know What Would Be Delicious?

Sweeping the series. But it didn't happen. The Mets bats got shut down tonight by 22-year-old minor league Yankee pitcher Tyler Clippard.

The Mets had a rhythm going into this series and it carried them through until tonight. Friday night's win by Oliver. Saturday's wild ride where they were able to win with a recipe of warm bats, mixed with a healthy serving of capitalizing on the Yankee's defensive mistakes. Yum, delish. Two wins delish.

Tonight was not quite like that. It was a quiet game. Not much cookin' for the Mets. The one rallying moment was a lone home run by hot buns himself... David Wright. It wasn't even that the Yankees defense was all that. Bottom line: Fresh meat Clippard sliced us and diced us.

At least tomorrow night the Empire State Building will be marinated in blue and orange.