Four Games, Four Losses, Four Shades of Hideousness

If you were one of the many encouraged by the recent spate of victories, who had perhaps fallen prey to some sort of baseless, giddy optimism based upon a couple wins in a season of mediocrity, you're ride is almost over.


The highlight of the Padre season and although not the lowest point of the Mets' season, not with so many other miserable performances and disappointments ahead of us.

Four losses in four games against the team which was in the basement of the NL West, especially in the face of a recent tear by the Phillies, the kind of tear we might add was precisely what the Mets were supposed to be gearing up for, is almost enough to sour your milk, piss on your cornflakes, wake you from your unreasonable slumber in time to join the new chorus of those singing for the sacking of Willie.

Of course, the optimists will point to an earlier sweep at the hands of the Braves, equally ugly, equally discouraging, equally humiliating and note smugly that the Mets bounced back from even that low just like they can bounce back from the most recent shock of failure piled upon failure in a sad little town like San Diego.

Of course, they can point to that. They will continue hoping and wishing despite the odds, despite the lack of conviction these Mets are often guilty of playing with. But you might as well face it, this little blurt of optimism brought on by a few victories was in essence the last gasps of a dying patient.


Any closer to Shea and he'd have been showered with garbage on his way out.

Thursday's walk-off hit batsman by Scott Schoeneweiss was only a sign of the times to come, a laughable four game sweep which culminated with the Mets' closer Billy the Hillbilly surrendering a game-losing three-run homer.

In between, two other 2-1 losses and in those losses, Friday and Saturday night, were highlighted by Johan Santana getting struck in the left shoulder outdueled by a paper lion like Randy Wolf and then in yet ANOTHER 2-1 loss, Oliver Perez escaping another humiliating performance only to see Pedro Feliciano blow the game by surrendering a walk off homer to Scott Hairston.

None of it matters, really. Losing three 2-1 games in a row shows the gutlessness of a team, the lack of fire, the absence of will power, the emptiness of their positive phrases, the uselessness of that mini run that gave so many a little encouragement for the first time all season.

Good luck to the Mets. They won't be able to convince their fans they have what it takes to make the post-season. From the looks of it, they can't even convince themselves.

Well, eff it. Worse comes to worse, there's always a month or so of the Euro 2008 coverage to distract.