Bronx Bombed

Both New York teams edged into this series wounded and flailing within their respective divisions.

The Yankees, down to the bottom of their division, were faring slightly worse than their Queens counterparts going in but would have been salvageable with at least a split in the two game rain-shortened Subway Series. Instead they were battered and deposed by their crosstown rivals and in turn, the Mets have given themselves a little lift, a little momentum to take with them on the road where they perform better, sans boo-birds,than at home.

(The baseball gods are not kind to Carlos Delgado. For the first time in like three years, Carlos comes up with two men on base and doesn't strike out or ground into a double play or pop up uselessly to an infielder. Instead, he jacks a three-run homer only to be robbed by the monkey-brained umpiring crew. And perhaps an even bigger shock to the system was the resiliance in singling home a run anyway. Just don't cheer him and ask for a curtain call kids, he might bite your fingers off!)

The Yankees lost another game to the Mets, this time on international television (yes! Live feed to UK!) and this time with their ace Chien-Ming Wang on the mound against Oliver Perez, a frustrating ongoing work of inconsistency and lack of focus. Whilst Wang was being treated like a female impersonator at a wife beating convention, The Good Perez showed up to stifle what is admittedly, an incredible weak and watered down Yankee batting order with the end result being an 11-2 battering which kicked the Yankees when they were down. Again and again and again.

The double play combo showing some long awaited signs of life.

Yeah, let's listen to the Pinstripe Puericulture prattle on about the greatness of the Mets for a change. Yes, these same Mets who only Friday were on the verge of imploding in clubhouse anarchy. These Mets we've mocked from a distance, sneered at from afar, showered with boos and groans and waited all season to date for a sign of life from. The Yankees are half-way buried. I don't care how many times they've swung it around. This is bad. Losing both games of this series to this Met team with all its flaws and incapability of summoning respect was almost as bad as the Mets losing 3 of 4 to the Nats at home last week. Well, not quite, but the reversal of fortune is palpable.

But let's take a brief break in this miniature glory and temporary satisfaction to comment on Willie Randolph


Jerry! Get out there and do your job! Get tossed by the ump because I'm too cool
to stoop to emotives.

Inevitably the point will be raised that when Carlos Delgado's three-run homer was erased by the ignorance and stupidity of a nearly unanimous umpiring crew, Willie went out there, mumbled a few sweet nothings, shrugged his shoulders when the umps told him to piss off and left it to his assistant, bench coach Jerry Manuel, to go postal from the dugout and get tossed from the game. Where was Willie and why was he so passive in a moment that surely called for passion and rage?

"That's what bench coaches do. The ump told me to shut up and he was looking to bait someone. I wasn't going to argue with him, but Jerry took the bait. Thanks, Jerry."

That's what bench coaches do? Is that Lou Piniella switching to bench coach? Did Leo Durocher or Earl Weaver repeatedly cower from confrontation to let their bench coaches do their cursing and dirty kicking and madness gesticulating for them? Of course not. Because that's what MANAGERS do. Having your bench coach get ejected whilst you stand there pretending to be Joe Torre Lite is like asking a casual friend to sleep with your wife on your honeymoon night. If you've got balls, use them, they aren't decorative ornaments, Willie.

Derek
Jeter, Posterboy for Whingers, tries to cash in on his celebrity with the umps by making blind and unfounded arguments. Show 'em some love, douchebag. The Yankees deserved their beating for such gamesmanship.

As far as I'm concerned this was a damning moment, even in light of the Mets' surprisingly simply mauling of the Yankees. If Willie isn't willing to fight for his team, why would his team be willing to fight for him? And why can't Jerry Manuel be manager now since he's doing Willie's job for him out there and not slinking away like a wet dog the minute the umps give him a little stick. Let Willie go back to coaching third base. For the Yankees. He isn't doing the Mets much good here.

But what the hell, we're getting off topic.

Let's glorify Oliver Perez for one night as much as we will inevitably villify him in the next outing or the outing after when he throws a pair of wild pitches, hits a batter, walks five and allows 4 earned runs all in one inning. He pitched like he belonged out there, pitched like he could maintain his focus better than that of a puppy for more than a few innings in one game and the result was beautiful to behold. Ok, it was just the Yankees, the Laughingstocks, the enemic batting order, the wash-ups, losers and parasites of the AL East, but it was still a big game to take and Oliver took it.

And the Mets were able to beat the Yankees in the Bronx against what is arguably the two best Yankee pitchers in the rotation. Hang on, they didn't just beat them, they beat the crap out of them. By an explosive aggragate total.

So enjoy this for a day or two. Let the bitterness ebb from your soul. Rest up for the next inevitable round of misgiving, lack of effort, poor execution, failure to perform up to standard and all around loseability.

It's there, just around the corner waiting to mug your temporary loss of sanity, your momentary delusion that the Mets have finally righted themselves and are ready to go on a roll.