Late Inning Gasp A Corner Turner?
So, titillating 13th inning walk off two-run blast finally sets the Mets straight, finally gives them the momentum that they...the season is now transformed, the Mets have turned the corner, it won't be long now, the Phillies must be quaking in their boots...naaaaah.
I suppose the warning label should read: Enjoy the celebration now, misery is just around the corner...
Ok, it was thrilling last night, a veritable roller coaster.
Big Cat Pelfrey: are these recent outings a hint of a promising future or like the rare Met victory a simple excuse to temporarily escape the misery?
You get Pelfrey's amazing 5 hit, one earned run, 8 strikeout 8 1/3 inning outing, probably the best of his Mets career which, on the heels of two less-than-shabby starts leading up to this, makes one almost begin to believe that he's beginning to master his problems and become the starter the organisation has been expecting.
Ok, maybe not as bad as Oliver Perez on his worst days but listen Billy, this was a game that had to be won and typically, you were found wanting...
You get the Mets rolling up a trio of runs in support which was more than sufficient leading to the 9th with Hillybilly Billy summoned to get the last two outs. Then you get the closer blowing the game after all that, surrendering a massively heart-breaking three-run homer to some middle of the road nowhereman named Mark Reynolds and suddenly bam! The Mets are back in the auld shittole, game tied, extra innings. Everyone's faces sag. The eyes get teary, the fists clench in frustration and the auld gut is rumbling, here we go again.
Certainly the ingredients for demoralising loss number 6 in a row, innit?
But then in the 13th, the Mets turned the tables. Beltran hit his walk-off blast and for a night anyway, the world seems a helluva lot less hideous than it could of or has been for this has-been collective.
No, you don't want to go getting strange ideas in your head like, oh this is finally it, the Mets have turned the corner. You don't want to do that because you know damned well you lost count a month ago how many times you told yourself that over some small, symbolic Mets success and you know good and well that the double body blow when you realise it's all a lie, a mirage, a half-truth, will sting and hurt twice as hard when that reality sets in again.
So I'm not buying it. If the Mets win 12 in a row I won't buy it. Know why? Because they're more likely than not to follow it up with a dozen losses in a row. That's these Mets. Less than .500. Never consistent. Always teasing us with what could be but isn't.
So enjoy this morning after the 13th inning surprise but don't expect it to lead anywhere promising. You'll only be setting yourself up for twice the pain later on.
I suppose the warning label should read: Enjoy the celebration now, misery is just around the corner...
Ok, it was thrilling last night, a veritable roller coaster.
Big Cat Pelfrey: are these recent outings a hint of a promising future or like the rare Met victory a simple excuse to temporarily escape the misery?
You get Pelfrey's amazing 5 hit, one earned run, 8 strikeout 8 1/3 inning outing, probably the best of his Mets career which, on the heels of two less-than-shabby starts leading up to this, makes one almost begin to believe that he's beginning to master his problems and become the starter the organisation has been expecting.
Ok, maybe not as bad as Oliver Perez on his worst days but listen Billy, this was a game that had to be won and typically, you were found wanting...
You get the Mets rolling up a trio of runs in support which was more than sufficient leading to the 9th with Hillybilly Billy summoned to get the last two outs. Then you get the closer blowing the game after all that, surrendering a massively heart-breaking three-run homer to some middle of the road nowhereman named Mark Reynolds and suddenly bam! The Mets are back in the auld shittole, game tied, extra innings. Everyone's faces sag. The eyes get teary, the fists clench in frustration and the auld gut is rumbling, here we go again.
Certainly the ingredients for demoralising loss number 6 in a row, innit?
But then in the 13th, the Mets turned the tables. Beltran hit his walk-off blast and for a night anyway, the world seems a helluva lot less hideous than it could of or has been for this has-been collective.
No, you don't want to go getting strange ideas in your head like, oh this is finally it, the Mets have turned the corner. You don't want to do that because you know damned well you lost count a month ago how many times you told yourself that over some small, symbolic Mets success and you know good and well that the double body blow when you realise it's all a lie, a mirage, a half-truth, will sting and hurt twice as hard when that reality sets in again.
So I'm not buying it. If the Mets win 12 in a row I won't buy it. Know why? Because they're more likely than not to follow it up with a dozen losses in a row. That's these Mets. Less than .500. Never consistent. Always teasing us with what could be but isn't.
So enjoy this morning after the 13th inning surprise but don't expect it to lead anywhere promising. You'll only be setting yourself up for twice the pain later on.
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