I've known two people who told me they had an older relative tell them, “Hate is for Hitler.” In other words, don't throw that particular four-letter word around so much. Show some perspective. Keep your feelings from getting ugly. That's very sound, very wise advice.

Unless of course you're a Mets fan.

One of our coolest blolleagues […]

Well, that was a bracing slap in the face, wasn't it?

Antonio Perez. Swear to god I pegged him early in the afternoon as the eventual culprit. How? Just pick the guy I've never heard of and assume he'll ruin things for the future Hall of Famer.

Now that he's a fully accredited graduate of Jimmy Qualls […]

Double damn.

Damn.

I'll admit it: Didn't see a single pitch of Jae Seo's latest glorious outing. (Gerald Williams?! Really?!) We were claimed by the social ramble, which Satchel long ago warned ain't restful. And as I retype this multiple times with only one eye able to open (please excuse any and all typos), I assure you it […]

Gerald Williams? Homering? Doubling? Stealing third? Scoring an insurance run? Leading the way to victory?

C'est la vie, say the old folks. It goes to show you never can tell.

Now if Pedro Martinez can pitch like Jae Seo and Mike Piazza can hit like Ramon Castro, we could be getting somewhere.

Go back to sleep. Nothing to see here.

This is the West Coast game I remember, the one whose inevitable return I've been dreading for more than four months. It's the one that ends with Roger McDowell balking somebody home or Dave Telgheder giving way to Doug Linton giving way to utter dismay. (Brian Bohanon and […]

Apologies all around. I'm not going to make the end of this one.

I sincerely hope this link will magically become a happy recap, but what I did see would definitely count as an ughfest. An outside observer might think Victor Zambrano got jobbed by getting stuck with those runs pinned on his resume by Heilman, […]

I had business north of the city Thursday afternoon. By the time it wrapped up, the Mets and Padres were already in the fourth, the inning when Beltran walked, stole second and, thanks to Robert Fick forgetting to lower his shades on a foul pop into the Petco sun, got driven in by Cliff Floyd. […]