Seriously, last night was probably the worst game of the year to watch from start to finish. Unless you thrill to rookie lefties having their way with us, it was the kind of night meant for flipping channels. I found myself wandering up and down the remote so much that I was surprised I caught as many interesting things as I did.
1) A black cat raced into extreme right field and disappeared behind the 338 sign, put off, I'm guessing, by all those distasteful Byrd droppings around home plate. Cats are clean animals and don't care for that kind of rude behavior. The cat was not identified by name. I don't think it was this fella, who is apparently a Mets fan and is billed as a Feline Prince (but is no relation to my Hozzie or my Avery). As long as they're going to try to honor a little Mets history among all the great Dodger history in the Park to be Named Later, maybe they can call the visitors' dugout the Kitty Corner in recognition of the role another black cat played in the 1969 pennant race. Better yet, they could work with trained professionals to rescue some of King Felix's minions, get them some necessary veterinary care, keep them from reproducing, find them some homes or at least fill the Top Hat with some water and let the gang get hydrated. Cats don't really need milk. It gives them the runs…and not like the three Marlon Byrd provided for Mike O'Connor.
2) Ron Darling admitted he would have liked to have returned to pitch for the Mets after he was traded because he was stuck on 99 Mets wins and wanted the round number. I didn't think players cared about those things. Darling had 136 wins in his career but it actually bothered him not to get to 100 as a Met. That's neat enough to make one overlook the No. 33 Greatest Met of the First Forty Years' pedestrian broadcasting skills and inability to come up big on a handful of occasions.
3) Spike Lee was in a DiamondView Suite wearing what appeared to be a brand, spankin' new Mets cap. In an in-game interview (the best kind while silly ol' baseball is taking place down on the field), he was kvelling over Omar and Willie and his old/new favorite team. I'm tempted to say, Spike, make up your mind as to whether you're a Mets fan or a fan of some other local squadron. I guess he has. Whichever team is doing well, he's a big fan. He grew up rooting for whichever team was doing well. He remains loyal to whichever team is in first place. He's the No. 1 celebrity supporter of whichever team is kicking ass. That Spike Lee, he sure knows how to run in front. (Other big names who make their way to Shea prefer to skate).
4) Gary Cohen name-checked one of our favorite blolleagues, Mark of Mets Walkoffs. The answer to the AFLAC (AF-LAC!) trivia question was essentially Mark's post, the one that celebrated Monday night's win with the story of the last time the Mets won a game when the opposing pitcher threw away the winning run. Congrats to Mark for a deserving shoutout. Kudos as ever to Gary Cohen for citing only the best sources. And screw you, Darold Knowles, just on principle.
5) John Maine pitched OK. I guess we'll see him again. He wasn't really all that interesting.
Regarding Spike Lee, there was an item in Sports Illustrated that noted he called the Nets and asked for special consideration and received it for their series against the Pacers.
WHY? Why on earth should the Nets or the Mets or any local team give a dadblasted damn over who this self-adoring frontrunner roots for? Jon Heyman wrote yesterday in Newsday that Omar was essentially recruiting him to be a Mets mascot the other night.
News flash: The Mets already have a mascot. And his head isn't nearly as big as Lee's.