Well, it’s over.

With the singularly most pathetic single-game performance I’ve seen from any of the professional sports teams I root for, the New York Mets are finished. 7 games up with 17 to go, and they blew it.

I’m going to go do something else. Tomorrow there will be a summary of this epic collapse. I don’t have much to say right now.

The collapse in 1998, the losses in the 1999 and 2006 NLCS, the 2000 World Series, and now this. Unreal.

Congratulations to the Philadelphia Phillies, who played like a team that deserved it the last two weeks. The Mets did not. I sincerely hope Willie enjoys his champagne while he’s golfing later in the week, or better yet, looking for a new job.

The Giants suck too, but at least hockey season starts Thursday. Let’s go Rangers.

On edit: Giants beat the Eagles. Uh, yeah, take that Philly! To hell with you and your playoff-bound baseball team. Damn it.

Does this mean I have baseball writing credentials?

Today I fought the good fight for good Mets fans and good baseball fans everywhere on that noted forum of intellectual debate, Facebook. My adversary was a lad named Frank, who writes for the noted bastion of good baseball journalism known as Hot Stove New York. Frank had the misfortune to catch me at the wrong moment (after last night’s loss to the Marlins) with an ill-conceived rant about Mets fans, eliciting a spiteful response and subsequent verbal beatdown. I’m usually too lazy or indifferent to spend this much time dismantling something ridiculous that I’ve read, but I wasn’t going to let any of this pass. Not on this day. Frank picked the wrong Mets fan to mess with.

Needless to say I feel pretty good about myself as a result because, let’s face it, I need to celebrate when I can.

For those of you not on Facebook (or not in the group), I have taken the time to post the “debate” (I use the term loosely) here. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think. Warning: it’s really long, and I’m really awesome. It is also completely unedited.

In a related story, from now on I’m going to refer to this page whenever anyone asks me about my “credentials” because apparently that’s the thing to do. Look out mainstream media!

About the Mets: they never should’ve been in this spot and you all know how I feel about it, but it comes down to a one day season tomorrow. Their fate is in their own hands one final time. If they don’t make it, they don’t deserve to, and that’s that.

That’s all for now. Check back tomorrow when I’m either jumping for joy, completely suicidal, or nervously awaiting a playoff game in Philadelphia.

Sincerely,
Mr. Facts 

Goodbye cruel world! It’s all Willie Randolph’s fault!

Once the Mets officially pull off this epic collapse, I’m planning on paying a visit to a local bridge where I will attempt to do my best Superman impersonation, followed by my best Aquaman impersonation. Everyone’s welcome to come along, crack open some beers and enjoy the show. You can even bring a camcorder and post the whole thing on YouTube! Think of the publicity you’ll get! Literally dozens of people could watch my ultimate demise from the comfort of their own homes. And now, to take care of some important business:

Dear Dreisini teammates,

Please begin looking for a new first baseman. Preferably one that is not dead. Also, if anyone takes my number, you will have to reckon with an angry Zombie Tino.

Sincerely,
Not-yet-Zombie Tino

As far as a will goes, you guys can all fight over my stuff. There are some A-Rod rookie cards in my room somewhere, those might be worth something. Just make sure nobody breaks the Nintendo or my Tom Seaver bobblehead doll, or any of my stuff really. I like my things.

I had to italicize all of that to emphasize the point that I’m joking around and obviously not going to kill myself over the fucking Mets, who will go home and sit on their piles of money whether or not they make the playoffs while I feel miserable about it. However, I am too numb about what’s happening at this point to even really go on a bloodcurdling rant of any sort about them. The easiest way to cope, I think, is to assume the worst and be pleasantly surprised if I am wrong. I mean, they are still technically in first place.

I was going to write a paragraph about how sports are a diversion from life’s real worries and that, no matter how passionate you are (I tend to think I’m borderline psychotic when it comes to the Mets), it ultimately is an escape and not something anyone would seriously get violent or kill themselves over. That should be pretty evident, though. That doesn’t mean that it’s not just absolutely shitty when you are passionate about a sport and a team and you do make the time and monetary investment and you get let down. Was that a run-on sentence? I don’t give a shit.

I was a Mets fan in the dark ages of the mid 1990’s and the early 2000’s. I’ll always be a Mets fan, regardless of what happens this season. They do make it pretty hard, though. 

Why I’m an idiot: Part 21436 of infinity

Today was my first day of work at Undergraduate Admissions. This story is not about my job.

My alarm clock woke up up at 8:20 AM and I completely freaked out, knowing that I had to be at my new job at 9 AM and being late on the first day would make for a poor first impression (and also knowing that I had to allow about half an hour to get from my house to the Administration building). I frantically rushed into the bathroom, took the most expeditious shower of my life, scrambled back out and was about to get changed into my dress clothes when I took another look at my clock:

It was already 8:30 AM. There was no way in hell I was going to be on time. I’m totally boned, right?

Maybe it was the blood finally returning to my brain after the three hours of sleep I had, but then it finally hit me – I didn’t have work until 10 AM. That’s why my alarm was set to 8:20 in the first place, of course, but for some reason in the 30 seconds after waking up I convinced myself work was at 9 AM and that I had made a mistake in setting my alarm. In essence, I was so convinced I had screwed up setting my alarm that I panicked into believing I was going to be late for work. Amazing, huh?

Oh, and my cellphone went off soon after at 8:45 as my “backup” alarm clock. This happened while I was in the bathroom, taking a real shower. I’m happy to report that other than nearly giving myself cardiac arrest, the rest of my day was decidedly un-catastrophic.

This, kids, is why you should strive to get a normal amount of sleep. Or, you can try passing out in your three hour statistics class, which is only 45 minutes away! Caffeine crash here I come!

Britney Spears and SEC football: a natural combination.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Worldwide Leader in Sports!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZUB3eJOTos

This is a video clip of ESPN football announcer Mike Patrick discussing the question that everyone’s been asking during overtime of the Alabama vs. Georgia game:

“I have an important question for you…what is Britney doing with her life?”.

This has got to be the most hysterical sportscasting moment of the year, if not the decade. I’m not a big college football fan, but this is amazing. Britney Spears? Really? And your thoughts on the game, Mike? Immediately thereafter, Patrick kicked it back into football mode as Georgia won the game on the very next play.

Now, if Tim Kurkjian begins waxing poetic about the Kanye West/50 Cent rivalry on Baseball Tonight, then you’ll really know that it’s all gone to hell.

Interesting Link!

http://www.myspace.com/eurofang

He passes along a message:

“Listen to me or go to hell.”

Oh fuck this.

Thanks Mets. Nearly two decades of disappointment and this is going to be the icing on the cake. That is, the cake of shit which has been the Mets for most of the past two decades, with a few breaks for shits and giggles (late 90’s, last year).

Disgusting.

Also, I found out today the British Empire paid two guys to go to the cliffs of Dover until 1927 and make sure Napoleon wasn’t invading. That made me feel somewhat less like an idiot.

ON EDIT, AS OF SUNDAY: Prove me wrong, Mets. Prove me wrong!

The Mets, continued.

Let me preface this by saying that I don’t care that they won tonight, I don’t care that the lead is now 2.5 games again, I don’t care I don’t care I DON’T FUCKING CARE. Losing three games to the Phillies this past weekend? Horrendous. Losing two straight to the NATIONALS after that? The 68 WIN WASHINGTON NATIONALS? Inexcusable. 10 errors in two games? A disgrace.

Let me also say I might use some crude language. Whatever. If that bothers you, I don’t care.

The Mets should never, ever, EVER have gotten to this point, where a majority of their fans have guns to their heads ready to go off if the Phillies catch them. And how appropriate that the 10,000-loss Phillies, the losingest franchise in the HISTORY OF THE FUCKING WORLD would be the beneficiaries of a Mets collapse?

I’m going to start at the top with Teflon Willie Randolph. At least, teflon until this week when it suddenly became fashionable for the New York tabloids to rail on him. Where were they with every other questionable in-game decision, pitching matchup, or indifferent reaction the past two seasons? Randolph has always been a shaky in-game strategist, someone that would get blown out of the water by Bobby Valentine. Speaking of Bobby Valentine, he’s the last good manager the Mets had. The best that can usually be said of Willie’s in-game decisions are “He didn’t screw anything up” – not a good sign. The players have mostly seemed to like him and play for him, but even then, too often they match the indifferent attitude Randolph seems to have most of the time.

Yes, the Mets have won more than they’ve lost. Let’s look at last year however – the team cruised all season, was faced one time with adversity in the playoffs, and completely crumbled in the NLCS to a vastly inferior Cardinals team, losing to the likes of Suppan and Weaver and a moron named Spiezio. This year, the Mets have too many times lacked fight and looked like it didn’t really bother them that they were losing. This was fine when they had a 6 game lead. It is no longer fine. They have lost their last seven games top the Phillies, who get up for the Mets like every game is the seventh of the World Series. The Mets have not handled teams that fight back very well – they are the definition of a bully until proven otherwise. The team usually mirrors Randolph’s demeanor, to say nothing of his in-game decisions. If you watch the games, or even follow them, you know what I mean.

Omar Minaya isn’t without blame here. Letting Chad Bradford go was a mistake. Signing Scott Schoeneweis to a 3 year contract was inexcusable. But nothing, NOTHING was more inexcusable than the two-year sweetheart deal given to Guillermo Mota. The bullpen has been awful and some of that has to fall on Minaya. Past that, he didn’t have much oppourtunity to improve the rotation in the offseason. The team still has enough talent that they should not be in the position they are now, struggling for their playoff lives.

Oh, and Guillermo Mota. What a fancy piece of horse crap you turned out to be!  Let’s review the Guillermo Mota Mets record:
- Several years ago, hits one of the most popular Mets ever, Mike Piazza, in Spring Training. Piazza charges mound, Mota flings glove like a little girl and runs the other way. Piazza gets in Mota’s face later, Mota presumably cries himself to sleep that night.
- Comes over in August 2006 from the Indians for almost nothing after a terrible season in Cleveland. Throws about 10 good innings of relief after the Mets are 120 games ahead in the division, and for some reason this earns him a spot on the playoff roster.
- Blows Game 2 of the NLCS, costing Mets a 2-0 lead and maybe the pennant, when he decides to throw the man with the stupidest facial hair on the fucking Earth, Scott Spiezio, about 100 fastballs in a row (some of these numbers may be exaggerated for effect), despite noted pitching expert Tino Evangelou screaming through his TV to “Throw a fucking changeup!”. Speizio triples, Cardinals tie game, later win, Mets unable to respond to the Weaver/Suppan tag team of doom and lose in seven games to a team that won 83 in the regular season.
- Gets the LARGEST SUSPENSION IN THE HISTORY OF THE FRANCHISE FOR USING STEROIDS, AND STILL GETS A TWO YEAR CONTRACT FROM THE METS, EVEN THOUGH HE’S BEEN BANNED FOR FIFTY GAMES! I can’t get over this part.
- Sucks major cock during the 2007 season, but keeps being using by Willie Randolph at seemingly every opportunity.

Yet, my fellow Mets fans, geniuses that they are, took most of this season to finally get around to booing Mota. Mike Pelfrey? Oh, everyone’s ready to bury his career after an 0-7 start, even though he’s been a Met from day one. But not Mota! He only cheated, and blew a playoff game, and hit one of the greatest Mets ever and ran away! Mota is like the bastard child of every shitty relief pitcher the Mets have ever had rolled into one – anyone you want to name, Mel Rojas, Billy Taylor, Armando Benitez in any game that mattered – with the added caveat that’s he’s basically a cheating asshole who’s stealing money and actively trying to ruin the Mets season. Unlike Scotty S, our favorite misused lefty specialist, he doesn’t have a moron manager with no concept of matchups misusing him to use as a crutch, either.

This sidebar on Mota was going to be part two of my New York baseball fan rant, but I’m just going to say it here – a lot of Mets fans don’t know a whole lot about baseball. Sorry, but it’s true. I can’t explain things like this, booing Beltran on Opening Day last year, or the famous 2005 love affair with Miguel Cairo any other way. How does Mike Pelfrey, a prospect, get booed out of Shea Stadium before his 10th major league start, but douchebags who could care less about the Mets like Mota and Cairo or someone who plays with the passion of a zombie like Shawn Green get a free pass?

Oh, and Shawn Green, thanks a lot for hitting an empty .350 for like two weeks in April. I’m glad Lastings Milledge lost a half season of development so we could give your dying career a couple of hundred extra at bats and watch you run around the outfield like you’re wearing those fucking Forrest Gump leg crutches. That was a joy. Lastings, by the way, is one of my favorite Mets, and I don’t give a shit about how many offensive rap albums he comes out with.

Paul Lo Duca? He actually cares, but he’s not very good anymore at baseball-related activities. At least he cares, though. Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you appreciated the Mike Piazza era, because we might never have a catcher that can hit like that ever again. Also, I regret the fact Piazza did not finish the job on Mota and spared us from him. He’d be an even bigger legend in my book.

Carlos Delgado? Apparently left his pitch recognition in Florida. Don’t worry, he’s signed for next year, too! Ready for another 500 at bats of mediocrity? I am!

What else did I miss?

Jose Reyes regressed in the second half, and somewhat alarmingly so, but he’s still one of the best shortstops in the game, and he has the excuse of being young. David Wright was a lock for the National League MVP a week ago probably. Now, who the hell knows, but he’s had a great season. Carlos Beltran has been streaky, as usual, but along with Wright he’s the least of the Mets’ problems.

The great Mets rotation! John Maine hit a wall after the break and didn’t have the luxury of a week off, Perez is still maddeningly inconsistent, Glavine has been decent, Hernandez is going to need a prosthetic hip fairly soon…Brian Lawrence? What the fuck? We couldn’t give Phil Humber a start so this guy could lob 83 mile per hour fastballs over the plate? Fuck that. They need a starting pitcher next season. And maybe a reliever or three. I also put nothing past Pedro Martinez, and I mean that in a good way.

I wanted to give a big thank you to Aaron Heilman for giving up more nut-crushing home runs since the Yadier Molina atrocity than I care to remember. At least that WHIP is looking good! Also, the fact “London Calling” was his warm-up music pisses me off. I can’t really complain about Wagner too much, even though he sucked for a solid two weeks…what else? Pedro Feliciano came down to earth, the rest of the bullpen is clearly flawed without Bradford and Sanchez around.

I don’t know, I’m getting tired of writing this, and it’s a messy rambling mess as it is. If the Mets lose the division, Randolph deserves to lose his job. Even if they do make the playoffs, changes need to be made. That’s another post. For now, I’m just exasperated. I hope I’m wrong and this team goes on a ridiculous run and wins the World Series. That would be glorious. But, I’m a Mets fan. Excuse me for being cynical and expecting the worse.

Before I go, one more thank you to the Boston Red Sox for giving every obnoxious Yankees fan in the universe one more YANKEE MAGIC story to tell us all about, you losers. Screw you Boston. The fact Dane Cook roots for your team makes me hate them even more. In conclusion, I hope the Indians win the AL pennant. Yeah, right.

Whatever. I care too much.

P.S. I also wanted to give a big “fuck you” out to my house’s internet connection, which has been utter dogshit for the past several days and made posting this disaster a complete chore. Fantastic stuff.

The Mets

…fuck this shit, I’m writing this when I wake up.

This is a joke.

Thoughts on music and life…from an insomniac.

The other day I was trying to narrow down a list of my top five or top ten favorite bands, and I think its nearly impossible. I know people are going to yell at me for saying this, but I find music so ridiculously subjective that I don’t know how anyone can be a “critic”.

Nirvana and The Clash are probably my two favorite bands, not only because I find their music entertaining and important (in different ways) but because of the personalities of Kurt Cobain and Joe Strummer. After that it’s a crap shoot. I’m a huge Zeppelin fan but I think I’ve listened to WBAB too much because I feel like I’ve heard every Zeppelin song a hundred billion times over. Then there’s the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Green Day, Depeche Mode, The Cure, The Smiths and about twenty other bands I could listen to at any given time and enjoy.

I’m pretty sure that there’s really no point to what I just wrote other than (I guess) to highlight the fact my musical taste is incredibly random and fickle depending on my mood at the moment. A waste of time to think about? Absolutely, but a fun distraction.

Speaking of The Clash, I was just watching clips of old Clash concerts and Joe Strummer, before a performance of Rock the Casbah, was on one of his anti-establishment rants when he went off with “You make, you buy, you die…that’s the motto of America!”, which I thought was classic. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else, but I think everyone knows (and, to some extent, agrees) about the idea that working your life away for the sake of existing is kind of shitty, and so is focusing all of your energy on attaining material possessions. If you can’t live your life how you want and do what you want, what the fuck is the point? There are two things I want to be able to say on my deathbed – one, that I didn’t spend my life alone, and two, that my life’s work did something good in the name of something I believed in. Is that too much to ask for? I hope not.

I’m going to wrap this up because I’m starting to ramble and all of this is getting way too deep and introspective, but I also wanted to say that the Mets are pissing me off and there’s a nuclear-level rant coming if the Phillies get any closer. A September collapse? I wouldn’t put it past them.

Stay tuned for future posts as I chronicle that as well as my adventures in graduate school and my new apartment, including the great Wasp Invasion of ‘07!

Cheers.