Taking three out of four in Philly felt fantastic.
Sweeping the Giants was gigantic.
Winning eight in a row–and coming into within 1/2 game of Philadelphia is, in the words of Tony the Tiger,
“GR-R-R-R-R-R- EAT!!”
I’m ECSTATIC!!!
Taking three out of four in Philly felt fantastic.
Sweeping the Giants was gigantic.
Winning eight in a row–and coming into within 1/2 game of Philadelphia is, in the words of Tony the Tiger,
“GR-R-R-R-R-R- EAT!!”
I’m ECSTATIC!!!
With the Mets’ 7-2 win over the Giants, they swept the series. Not only that, they have now won 6 in a row: something the club has not done since 2006!
Here’s hoping the “good Ollie” keeps the momentum going when the Rockies come into town tonight!
Was it the Curse of the Sports Illustrated cover?
Or was it just the Mets bringing back some confidence from Philadelphia and showing the home crowd some major offense?
Who cares?!!
Mike Pelfry outpitched the soon-to-be All Star and the Mets won their fourth game in a row. The team is now 1 1/2 games behind division leader Philadelphia–tied with the Marlins who lost last night, is now two games above .500, and they handed Tim Lincecum his first loss since April 29th.
Now…what kind of freak of nature would it be if the Mets’ offense could ensure our ace Santana a victory for a change tonight?!
How ’bout it, guys?!
Am I the only one that thinks Jason Werth looks like the Devil?
I actually thought that his little strip of a goatee and his angular eyebrows and long face made him look Lucifer-like WELL before Sunday’s L- O – O – O- NG rain delay.
But when Billy Wagner was one strike away from FINALLY ending this game and Werth hit a hellish two-run homer off of him to tie up the game and force us into extra innings–blowing Billy’s save–I know many of us Mets fans were thinking up some pretty diabolical names for the guy.
So then–in last night’s giveaway-that-turned-into-a-nail-biter–how could it have been anyone beside Satan himself facing Billy in the bottom of the ninth with two outs and the tying run on second base??!!
While Billy had us sweatin’ there, but this time the Prince of Darkness popped-up to right and Endy Chavez caught it to end the internal game.
I later heard Billy Wagner interviewed on SNY-TV. He said something to effect that he thought the Mets should play hard all the time: so hard that when they left town [or they left the opposing team’s town], their adversaries were “tired”.
I don’t know about any other viewers, but between (1) the angst created by the interminable rain delay–Would they play again or would it just keep raining and we would win??!, and(2) the anxiety of the scenario should they continue the game: two Phillies on base and Howard due up in the bottom of the ninth, (3) followed by last night’s 10-1 score in the sixth diminshing to merely a one-run lead by the time Billy Wagner was in fact needed for the game, and finally, (4) Billy not exactly looking invincible…I am TIRED!!
I feel mentally and physically exhausted after “staying in the game(s)” with our guys.
With that in mind, I’m going to take a quick nap before heading out to Shea to welcome the victorious Mets back home and help them deal with this Lincecum fellow from the Bay!
My husband, just as big an opera fan as he is a Mets fan, woke up this morning with what I thought was a very clever analogy.
Having gone to bed last night, frustrated once again, by the Mets loss to the Cardinals, he awoke thinking that it was a new day with another ballgame to look forward to and the opportunity for the Mets to improve in the NL East standings.
He compared it to a passage in the Puccini opera, Turandot, with which we are both very familiar.
Set in Peking, the opera tells the tale of an icy princess who invites potential suitors to participate in a game show of sorts. In the second scene of Act II of the opera, the title character asks the tenor lead–Calaf–three riddles. He has chosen to participate in this trial although many have tried to dissuade him from doing so. You see, if he incorrectly answers any of the three questions, he is to be beheaded as have all of his unsuccessful predecessors.
For round one, Turandot asks the contestant to name for her, loosely translated, a many-colored phantom that flies and soars over humans in the dark of night. It is called to. It is implored. At dawn, this phantom vanishes to be reborn in every heart.
“Every night this phantom is born anew, and every day it dies.”
Ogni notte nasce
ed ogni giorno muore!
“Hope,” Calaf successfully answers.
I love the metaphors: both Turandot’s for hope and my husband’s for the hopeful baseball fan.
As discouraged as some of us Mets fans get, we just can’t help but still hold out hope that they can right the ship.
Let’s see if we can split the series with the Cardinals!
PUH– LEASE!!!
You know I’m a pretty dispirited Mets fan if I’m reduced to Yankee-bashing. Sigh.
Even though the Mets took 4 of 6 in games versus the Yanks this season, the Mets will always be second-class citizens in this town, I suppose.
But did I have to be greeted by THIS when I stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts for an iced latte this morning?!
I knew I should’ve held out for Starbucks.

On June 29 in Baseball History… |
I read this seemingly innocuous little tidbit in the New York Times sports section yesterday morning.
But then I started thinking about
and it made me wonder:
Did they only HAVE one ball?
If so, did they offer some kind of inducement for fans catching foul balls, er–THE foul ball–to “ante up” THE one game ball so that the game could continue?
Just how dirty and beat-up did this one baseball get after nine innings of play?
And who got to KEEP this legendary baseball? It seems that it should’ve been kept for historical purposes, no?
Just some random thoughts that I pondered yesterday…it beat ruminating on the reasons why the Mets seem to remain hell-bent on staying a .500 team.
…actually, avoid two potential ones all together!
Honestly, I am not a fan of interleague play in general and of Yankee-Mets matchups in particular.
But I did enjoy a sidebar story that came out of this weekend’s Subway Series:
the transport of the Mets and Yankees players from Yankee Stadium to Shea Stadium during rush hour on a Friday afternoon and how it affected fellow New Yorkers.
Because of a rain-out during the previous Subway Series at Yankee Stadium earlier in the season, the Mets and Yankees faced each other Friday afternoon at Yankee Stadium for a make-up game. Then, that evening, both teams (and the media) had to get to Shea Stadium for the first of a three-game Subway Series there.
The personnel’s inter-borough journey would’ve been a challenge on any day and at any time of day, considering the busy corridor they needed to traverse and the bottlenecks that occur far too often upon it. Yesterday, however, presented a few additional challenges: the first game was a very long one–almost four hours, and (2)their expedition was to take place on a Friday night in the summer. While Friday afternoons are always “getaway” days and usually times of high volume on the roads, the problem is compounded in the summer when many are getting away to the beach or to the Hamptons.
My family’s challenge did not involve a time element: we were attending only the second game. However, one should never underestimate the challenge of travelling from New Jersey to Queens with there being a game at Yankee Stadium. Not having the physical conditioning to even consider a foot race and disliking crowds and traffic in general, our family was not sure we even wanted to FACE the challenge.
Therefore, my husband–with his family’s approval–attempted to sell our tickets for Friday night’s game on StubHub. This was one game we all figured would be best viewed in the comfort of our own home on high definition television.
When the tickets did not sell, however, we changed our minds and decided to brave the masses on the road in order to attend.
~
We gave our time of departure much forethought. It was decided that the best way to avoid the traffic created by fans departing Yankee Stadium following the first game would be for us to be well on our way BEFORE the end of the first game.
As it turned out, our strategy not only afforded us a more or less routine trip to Shea, but it unexpectedly provided us the opportunity of sailing by Yankee Stadium–southbound on the Major Deegan Expressway–at the very MOMENT that Carlos Delgado hit the first of what would be two home runs for the Mets–this one a grand slam! As I quickly opened the sun roof, we all three screamed, and I vigorously waved my Mets cap.
When we arrived at Shea, there were many fans already there. It appeared that others were aware, as we were, that it had been arranged that both teams were to travel by bus with police escort from the Bronx to Queens with road closures being scheduled during their transition.
Arriving at Shea without any of the logistical snafus we had envisioned and feared, it was actually delightful to, later, find out some details about the two teams’ post-matinee conveyance–both on the radio and in the newspapers.
Although traffic was halted enroute to the Triborough Bridge and on the other side–on the Grand Central Parkway–to ensure a quick trip for the players and the members of the media who accompanied them, apparently many drivers along this route were well aware of the purpose of the stoppage. Many of the presumably inconvenienced drivers were not scowling, waving fists or the like. Rather, they were leaning out of car windows, yelling cheers of encouragement and flashing player jerseys in signs of recognition as the buses passed.
As New York Times sportswriter George Vecsey so wittily observed in his column today:
Normally, I hate it when traffic is blocked in New York because some presidential candidate is mooching campaign funds in our town. Over the years, I have had a few paranoid thoughts and words and gestures toward assorted Bushes and Clintons, Gores and Kerrys, when some bridge or parkway was inexplicably shut down. But it’s different when traffic stops for something socially redeeming, like a baseball team.
It had to be a redeeming feeling for Mets officials, too, knowing that their arrangements had enabled the Mets to play in the Bronx until about 6PM and walk into their Club House at Shea for their 8:10PM game having taking only twenty-eight minutes door-to-door! (Apparently, the Mets had made similar arrangements for the team travelling TO Yankee Stadium that morning: a trip that had taken only seventeen minutes!)
If only Mets officials could collaborate in such a way as to assure a Mets’ victory…sigh.
We’ll get ’em tomorrow.
I will miss the humor of the irreverent George Carlin, who passed away yesterday.
I particularly loved how he examined words, colloquialisms, common expressions, and the English language in general.
One of my all-time favorite “classic” Carlin routines was the one in which he contrasted the sports of baseball and football:
I grew up in Oklahoma–OU Sooners country–with nary a Major League Baseball team within 500 miles. Never really embracing football and its popularity and having had to accompany the high school football team in its travels as part of the high school band, I always particularly enjoyed Carlin’s underscoring the “tough” persona of football as opposed to the more “civilized” game of baseball.