What better way to commemorate the second anniversary of Collapse Day than by folding, crumpling, blowing away and being kicked in the collective groin by the Washington Nationals [1]?
This was the first time we'd played on September 30 since the September 30 that has come to define the fortunes of this franchise [2] to which we are mysteriously and inextricably linked. The September 30, 2007 follies and the actions of the weeks that preceded them was a foreshadowing of what this team would become.
A bunch of chumps with no clue, no pride and no professionalism.
The New York Mets have done almost nothing right in any on-field or off-field sense since blowing that seven-game lead two Septembers ago. Except for a brief spurt of solid play in July and August 2008, they've been a dismal team populated by dismal players led by dismal management. They weren't much healthy when it counted last year or early this year and we've seen how they've disintegrated since getting ill.
No Reyes [3], no Delgado, no blah-blah-blah? No pride and no professionalism. Chumps! This is not an outfit that gets easily inspired let alone motivated. It's content to be swept by the one team in the National League that used to be indisputably worse than it. How do I know it's content with being beaten about the ears by a ragtag 103-loss unit? Because they let it happen. Because they always let it happen. Because the Nationals had 103 losses when this series began and they have 103 losses now. Because I'm the genius who watches this team enough to know quality when I don't see it.
The Mets are up to 92 losses, incidentally. Only the calendar running out will keep them from topping 95.
Fire Jerry. Fire Omar. Deduct a day's pay from everybody's enormous salary and donate it to a good cause. I'm gonna go stare in the mirror and ask myself, speaking of no clue, why I've made the weekend plans I have. I'll be at Citi Field Friday. I'll be at Citi Field Saturday. I'll be at Citi Field Sunday.
I'll be at peace Monday. Infinitely stupider, but at peace.
Oh, and speaking of even MORE no clue…this [4]. Can't somebody fire a Wilpon or two?
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