I’ve had difficulty “singing the praises of the Mets” lately…except in some sort of out-of-tune way. Thus, the absence of recent posts.
I keep waiting for the chance to vocalize in a fully supported manner, but this less-than-encore-deserving run of Mets losses has only inspired me to warbling off-key humor.
Fact: the Mets have suffered an unbelievable number of injuries (record-breaking?) this season. Their struggle to stay competitive in spite of this has been admirable if not downright miraculous.
I’ve seen and heard it all:
“The Mets are playing hurt.”
“The Mets are putting a Junior Varsity team out there.”
“The Mets just have to tread water until the regulars get back.”
“Just wait until after the All-Star break.”
“You can’t blame them: some of these players are minor-leaguers.”
Agreed.
But even with those disclaimers and glass-half-full observations, last night’s loss was a new low.
From F-Mart’s blooper-reel-worthy performance in the outfield to our ace Santana’s bases on balls and dugout temper tantrum, it was a night to test even the most ardent fan’s patience.
Meanwhile, in that never-ending side-bar story to any Met fan’s daily digest–hoping the Phillies will at least lose (and barring that, the Yankees)–the Atlanta Braves did manage to help us out: aided by the mere threat of Jeff Francouer donning his magic underwear,
Go ahead and laugh. I am.
Matt Cerrone of MetsBlog recently excoriated manager Jerry Manuel for jokingly looking for his (hidden) offense under the table when asked about the Mets’ bats at his post-game press conference on Sunday night following the derailed Subway Series.
Maybe, at least in Cerrone’s opinion, Manuel is not in a position to kid around. And, granted, the Mets’ falling further and further below .500 is no laughing matter.
I, on the other hand, am in a position to joke around and, in fact, have now arrived at the “what else can you do but laugh” point.
And with that little prelude in mind, I offer up (with apologies to my Mom, a die-hard Braves fan) some contrasting themes between the Mets’ and Braves’ clubhouses:
The Mets’ offense has flown the coop and, especially last night, they are looking like a bunch of birdbrains in the field; the Braves are closing in on us, their right-fielder bluffing about lucky turkey shorts.
The Mets are awaiting the return of Major-League ready jocks; the Braves are talking jockeys.
The Mets need their A-Team; the Braves are talking G-strings.
The Mets desperately need the long ball; the Braves are talking long johns.
You get the idea.
Laughing keeps me from crying:
after all, I don’t want to be perceived as a pantywaist.
Original artwork “Phillie Cheese Steak Brand” From the “Orange Crate Label Series: The Unauthorized History of Baseball in 1-Odd Paintings” (2005) by Ben Sakoguch courtesy of the artist..
Perfect Pitch 