Hope you had a happy Elster Sunday and that your boy got to every egg within his limited range.
Cripes, the real thing is a week away and panic is simmering in this
corner of Metsopotamia. Pedro's lower back. DeJean's right calf.
Cameron's nodding, if that, familiarity with his new position.
Zambrano's refusal to make the Kazmir trade palatable. Diaz's apparent
ticket to Norfolk. Reyes' excellent health (which has to be a set-up).
Our utter lack of a bullpen beyond Braden. How did April 4 get so close
with so much unknown?
These are the desperate hours. It occurs to me that the seventh, the
eighth, maybe the sixth innings — one-third of our lives — will be
trusted to people we barely know. Who is Dae-Sung Koo anyway? He's
looked fairly abysmal and
he doesn't know why he's here. Earlier in spring training, it was
reported that the Yankees had been interested in signing him. When
asked why he chose the Mets, he replied, “I'm not sure why my agent did
that.” Assuming nothing was lost in translation, we've got a
responsibility-ducker who can't pitch. It's Viola all over again.
Why do I keep hearing Chilly Willy, a.k.a. Manny Aybar, has no chance
to make the team? Sunday afternoon I wrapped myself in a blanket and
listened to him pitch two shutout innings. Ditto for your pal Heath
Bell who should have bladed his way onto the staff by now. He's no
lock. Nobody's a lock, except for Felix Horrendous and DeJean, whose
calf-baked career wasn't much before his injuries, save for like three
appearances last summer.
Is this what we're setting up with? Brrrrr…
Save Victor Diaz! Somebody's gotta bat right-handed off the bench and
hit one out. I'm of two minds on Galarraga, despite his recent pretend
power surge: 1) He's old and 2) He's decrepit. Not as a human being,
just as a ballplayer. I look in the mirror; I recognize old and
decrepit when I see it.
Why no bandwagon for Luis Garcia who looked/sounded good Sunday? A year
ago Karim Garcia was the starting right fielder and Danny Garcia was
our secret weapon. It was muchas Garcias. Now? Sic transit Garcia.
Glints of sun: John Pachot seemed particularly studly behind the plate
Friday night — move over, Hietpas. And the closer of future past,
Royce Ring, actually appeared on TV, pitching well if wearing No. 91
without a name. I guess the future will have to wait.
As you can see, I'm coping a lot better with the past lately than I am
with this particular present. C'mon man, make some snarky comment about
how Wayne Garrett wasn't a Great Met because he didn't charge Lynn
McGlothen one night in 1976. That I can wrap my head around. The New
Mets? They still elude me.
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