Well, good morning everybody.
No, your bloggers have not taken a page from the New York Times and decided that watching the Mets play out a frayed string isn't always worthy of coverage. The problem, rather, was your correspondent putting his head down for what he presumed would be the briefest of respites after the top of the 9th. Sure, I might miss a casino warning me that someone is telling my tiramisu story (by the way, what jackass has a tiramisu story?) or Derek Jeter nagging me to go to his Web site, but I'd be up and around and refreshed for the bottom of the 8th and the Mets' comeback.
You can guess what happened next. Heart of the night, randomness on SNY, deep confusion followed by realization. But what had happened? Had the Mets come back to win? Had they come back but lost 39-38 in extra innings, with Daniel Murphy leaving another 112 men on base?
Well, let's see. Ah, leadoff man got on in the 9th. To be expected, seeing how they'd done that all night. Flyout, strikeout, flyout, ballgame. OK then. Faintly amazing they didn't somehow hit into another double play, but not a huge surprise otherwise.
Awful night for Daniel Murphy. A typically agitated night for Mike Pelfrey — if he worked in your office he'd be the guy everybody worries might shoot up the place one day. (Potentially related observation: His outing would have looked a lot better with infield defense not borrowed from Day 1 of a Mets fantasy camp.) David Wright striking out. 13 losses in 18 tries against the Braves in 2009. Pondering that 2010 could be the last go-round for loathed and grudgingly respected foes Chipper and Cox. (Don't worry, we'll have years to see our souls crushed by Brian McCann and Terry Pendleton.) The question of whether the 2009 Mets can win 66 games still to be resolved.
At least they can't lose tonight. And at least I'm rested.
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