So The Mets’ First Week Went Well
I’ve had at least one person say that when they see my blog is updated, they get excited — only to be disappointed when they see baseball stats. I will get around this by talking about the Mets without using stats. Or at least no stats you wouldn’t see on a typical ESPN broadcast.
The Mets had about as easy an opening week a team could hope for: three games against the Marlins, and three games against the Nationals. Both of these series were at home. Yet the Mets are currently 2-4 and in the cellar in the National League East. The good thing is that this only constitutes 1/27th of a full season. The other good thing is that I expected the Mets to do fuckall this season. They’re already 3.5 games behind the Phillies — a distance which will only increase as the summer rolls by. I just don’t enjoy watching the Mets lose a game where they are pitting Johan Santana against Livan Hernandez, a man whose age is listed at 35, but who is actually closer to 50 due to being from Cuba. The Mets couldn’t score a run off of him in seven innings. I’m glad I thought twice about purchasing tickets for what seemed to be a perfect Sunday game. I sat in my room staring at the TV mouth agape inning after pathetic inning. Superstitiously, I knew the game was over once Johan gave up a grand slam in the first inning, but some allegedly logical voice in my head told me the Mets should be able to score off a man who throws 85 mph fastballs. Logic did not prevail.
I just read a book called “The Drunkard’s Walk: How Randomness Rules Our Lives”; I guess Sunday’s debacle was just a perfect example of all the coins landing on heads for the Nationals. But the book also says how our minds don’t exactly process randomness and probabilities and statistics correctly. My anger over this particular loss perfectly demonstrates this fact. Every fifth game, I expect a win, or at least a close game — not a 5-0 game for practically the entire game, until the Mets added a couple of trademark meaningless runs when it was already too late.
Of course, it isn’t just Sunday’s game. Mike Jacobs has sucked so bad that I find myself longing for Daniel Murphy. John Maine and Oliver Perez have showed no evidence of turning back the clock to 2007. David Wright still can’t make routine throws across the diamond. Gary Matthews Jr. has been up to the plate 18 times already; Alex Cora, 21 times.
Luckily, Matthews and Cora won’t continue getting those at-bats. Jose Reyes is back; Carlos Beltran will be back SOMETIME. With those two back, along with Murphy being an upgrade at 1B if he repeats his second-half performance last year, the offense will actually be formidable. Unfortunately, I don’t expect Jeff Francoeur to continue walking at record pace or slamming extra base hits. Somehow Francoeur has been walking so much while swinging at MORE pitches out of the strike zone; something’s got to give, and it’s going to be his OBP. But he gained a metric shitload of goodwill with me by launching a 275-foot laser to throw out lazy fucktard Adam Dunn tagging up from 3rd base. That was fucking awesome. With Jason Bay and Carlos Beltran manning the other two outfield spots, maybe — a big maybe — I can withstand Frenchy in RF.
The bright spots have been the starts of Mike Pelfrey and Jon Niese, but it’s hard to get excited from one start. It’s much easier to get pissed off at players that everyone knows suck…sucking. God, Mike Jacobs fucking SUCKS. At least Alex Cora made some nice plays that would have made Luis Castillo’s knees explode when he filled in for him. And Gary Matthews Jr. should NOT be playing over Angel Pagan. Fuck you Jerry Manuel.
Tonight, I get to watch John Maine pitch in Coors Field. I predict three home runs. I also get to watch Angel Pagan bat 8th because “Pagan at No. 8 is [Manuel's] way of testing him 2 spots in front of Reyes.” Are you fucking kidding me? Yes, because having the pitcher in between them is basically the same as one leading off while the other hits 3rd. Kill me. Or blow up the team from the top.
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