"Awww, c'mon," the Mets tell me collectively, rubbing my head, "We're only 10 and a half games out of first and five games from the NL Wildcard! We've still got 22 games left! Mathematical elimination is still 20 games away!" exclaims Willie Randolph's half-eaten Subway sandwich to me from the rubbish bin of an empty, dismal clubhouse.
Indeed.
Now that those pesky Braves are finally out of the way, all that's left looming on the horizon of doom is a four game set in St Louis against the best team in the league. The nightmare is almost over and the real party can begin.
Well, maybe it won't be that much fun, but at least we'll be at home.
Yes, back to Shea where we are an indominable 41-27, the only place left on this rapidly shrinking season upon which to make our final stand.
Washington, Atlanta and then Florida, bingbangboom.
Then back on the road to Washington and Philadelphia and then, oh boy, THEN we close out at home with four games against the Colorado Rockies, the third worst team in baseball!
And look, we're not the only ones getting swept. Philadelphia just dropped three straight AT HOME to the Astros, so if you think we're bad, just look down there over at the Phillies and you can feel a little better.
Of course, the team we are chasing for the Wildcard, the team that had Carlos Beltran last year when he could still hit, the team that just swept the Phillies, are the Houston Astros. And of course, whilst the wild card hopefuls of the NL East pound each other game after game, the Astros move on to the cream puff portion of their schedule: 6 games against Milwaukee sandwiched around four against the Marlins. Then four against Pittsburgh and seven against the lowly Cubbies sandwiched around a pair of games at St Louis.
Who designed this schedule, Junction Jack?
(Houston Astros mascot Junction Jack hides something deadly behind his purse: the NL schedule!)
As Thomas Hobbs, lifelong Mets fan once noted: "Appetite, with an opinion of attaining, is called hope; the same, without such opinion, despair."
So where is this train heading, next stop hope or next stop despair?
I don't know about you but I'm going to withhold final comment until that next homestand is over.
*****
Now, about last night:
(No, this isn't Glavine celebrating his Clemente nomination.)
This one was probably even more cutting than the other two losses if that's possible. I mean, Woodward's bases loaded single in the top of the 10th to score Beltran with Ramon Castro, former hero, coming to the plate was about as close to ecstacy as we've been allowed to come in this series.
But the double play lineout that ended the inning swiftly should have been our omen.
No wait, our omen was that Bradon Looper, who had only blown the goddamned game an inning before, hadn't had his arms and legs broken by his teammates in the dugout in the top of the 10th, no, he was coming back out for more!
Now, I don't even have to give you the play by play, do I?
How does Looper repay the misguided faith Willie had in him, why he promptly loads the bases with none out in the bottom of the 10th, that's how.
And here's the punchline:
By the time he finally gets around to replacing Looper, who hopefully we will read has been placed on irrevocable waivers this morning, WHO does Willie reach for in the bullpen to get the Mets out of their looming disaster?
Shingo Takatsu, that's who.
I'll tell you, Manager Willie has got some good goddamn sense of humour, he does. Cosmic absurdity.
"We should have won the game," Looper said afterwards. "I stunk it up."
Stunk up? No, Bradon, you didn't soil your diapers you cretin, you created the second biggest blown save of the Mets season, the first having been Opening Day against the Reds when we all should have realised what a piss pot of a pitcher you really are! You didn't "stink it up", you ruined the goddamned season, AGAIN.
And Manager Willie goes to Shingo Takatsu, get it? Hahahaha.
I thought he was on a whaler to Yokohama, anyway.
*****
Tom Glavine continued his long road back to respectability last night, once again proving his resolved whatever psychological dramas he had about pitching against his former teammates as if he had money on them. Last night he threw into the 8th inning, allowed only five hits and a run. Better than Pedro. Better than Trachsel. But not good enough to win.
So, the Mets lose their 9th in their last 11 games, just the sort of performance you want out of your team in the biggest stretch of the season. No sense extending the suspense, let's just rat ourselves out straight away, the Mets seem to be telling us with their performances. We aren't cut out this season for the playoffs.
Go get'em next year, ha!
*****
One saving grace is that we've probably seen the last of Victor Zambrano for the year. After a season of futzing and pretending his internal blowups weren't a massive character flaw, Manager Willie finally laid the goods out on the table exlaining to us what we all knew well ahead of Willie: Victor is too unpredictable, to unsteady, too, well, not too good except once in awhile.
So tonight, Kris Benson will go up against Chris Carpenter, 20 game winner, who just outdueled Roger Clemens in his last start.
Hmmmm. Wonder how this one is going to play out.
Burning question of this four game series is:
Will the Cardinals score twice as many runs as the Mets?
Stay tuned, kids. The season is just beginning.
Hahahahaha. Shingo Takatsu. Hahahahha.
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