No matter what we think about Saturday's ugly and league-shaking situation, that's done and over with, and guaranteed 2 games at Citi Field. I'll take that any day. Or two. And I'm guaranteed to be there working at Two Boots Center Field. With the Center Field big screen always in my view.
MANDATORY CREDIT: Adam Hunger-USA TODAY Sports
Regarding the slide, I'm done, I've been ranting and debating it for 2 days now, and it looks like for dramatic purposes, Chase Utley will be there tonight, introductions and all, to bask in the Mets fans' venom. Remember, this is someone who once told the Yankee Stadium All-Star crowd, "Boo? Fuck you," before the TV feed quickly cut away. He'll flip the finger right back.
So, it's go time, with none other than Matt Harvey on the mound, just the way he scripted it all those endless nights when he sat at his typewriter while he couldn't pitch, furiously banging at the keyboard till the sun came up and he woke up drooling on the greatest screenplay ever written. This is what he has wanted. This is what WE have wanted. And we get to do it to those dirty, good for nothin', low-down stinkin' bums who deserted these here parts those many years ago.
Well, that brought on a new era, a new world, a New Breed. And the newest of that new breed gets their first crack at letting the New York Metropolitan Baseball Club know their rooting in the stands.
In October 2006, in the living room of a friend of mine not into baseball at all, I watched Endy Chavez make an incredible catch...and subsequently Aaron Heilman, Carlos Beltran, and a nasty curveball that absolutely pissed me off.
In September 2007, my friend Ted, a huge Phillies fan I've discussed on here before (in fact, first) texted me something I can vaguely remember now, but my response might have straight up been, "What are you talking about?"
To which he responded...
"Do you know what's going on?"
He had snapped me out of a season-long credit-card-max-out-inducing vinyl disc binge I had been going on, and I got back just in time to watch the 1st inning (or 1/3 of...) of Tom Gl%£¥ne's non-devastating 7 run performance. I vowed to never NOT follow the Mets daily again.
In September 2008, in a White Plains bar, I watched the bullpen put a bow on a very exciting yet uneven, odd and bittersweet last season of Shea Stadium baseball. About a week before that, I watched on the SNY Plaza monitor Daniel Murphy, who led off with a triple, get stranded on 3rd in the 9th inning against the Cubs. A disgruntled fan, with as thick of a New York accent as you can imagine, walked away, exclaiming, "Dey Stink!" Luis Alaya blew it right thereafter. I shook my head at Lee Mazzilli.
I got myself to Shea Stadium the next night, my last time ever in the building, and the Mets walked off on the Cubs in what everybody knew was an evening too late.
In October 2009, after the worst season, still to this day, I ever experienced as a baseball fan, I watched the Yankees take on the Phillies. I rooted for the Phillies...eesh.
October 2010, I watched Sandy Alderson introduce himself.
October 2011...
October 2012...
'13...
'14...
'15.
In August, I found out that the friend whose house I watched 2006's Game 7 at, whom I hadn't really seen since 2009, overdosed back in April and passed away. Besides being the first person my age (30) to die that I once spent a lot of time with, he died, unbeknownst to me till August, while I was in the middle of writing the 1st draft of a screenplay that takes place during the time I knew him.
Now, I don't mention this to bring the mood down, but my point is how long 9 years really is. A lot can change in that matter of time. And I, and we, have been through a lot as Mets fans in that time.
I thought about my former fandom some as I watched the Yankees and their fans go down in 1 game. I have an interesting perspective as having been raised in the Yankees world in my initial baseball years, then coming of age and becoming a Mets fan as an adult (the way I see it, I was born again, and now have been thoroughly raised in Mets fandom.) While Mets fans can sit in their anxieties that the other shoe will eventually drop, Yankee fans are cocky about the ghosts eventually emerging and swinging things the navy pinstripes' way, or at least that was the attitude till 2004. 11 years of a different world where the Yankees no longer dominate the Red Sox and have only been to and won only 1 World Series might have quelled that inevitable feeling for those fans, but while watching that Wild Card game, I couldn't have felt farther removed from the Yankee fan mindset.
I stopped having fun in my Yankee fandom. I have, including during my time rooting first and foremost for the Yanks, never not had fun rooting for the Mets.
We New Yorkers are lucky.
Unlike other towns, where the only flags you see flapping are Phillies flags, or Indians flags, or Red Sox, or Cardinals, or Brewers, etc. you see not only the local baseball flavor worn here, but basically every other team in all of human sports accounted for, since New York is a domestic and global phenomenon. In the 4 major U.S. sports, we have 9 local sports teams to mix and match with.
And in baseball, over here, we choose the Mets. In reality though, the Mets chose us.
And it doesn't matter how shallow or deep our playoff run ends up being.
After 9 years, I am about to have the time of my life.
KEEP. ON. PUSHIN'.
LET'S. GO. METS.
(Thanks to Greg Prince of FAFIF for the song selection. Only one that makes sense.)
"I no longer remember the exact circumstances, but years ago there was a newspaper story featuring a Yankee fan who didn’t understand why any franchise would adopt “Ya Gotta Believe” (or one of its non-spontaneous, corporate-approved descendants) as a rallying cry. Terrible slogan, she snorted dismissively: “Believe? That’s lame. We know.”
That always struck me as a perfect way to describe the two New York fanbases, because strip away the condescension and that long-ago fan got it right.
Yankee fans expect dollars to flow and moves to be made to ensure a full calendar in October and a ticker-tape parade a month later; anything less than that is a failure, for which there will be consequences.
Mets fans? We love ticker tape as much as the next guy and gal, and we’ll take a wire-to-wire regular-season cruise that doesn’t require too much heavy breathing. But dismissing anything less than a World Series trophy as a failure? We don’t get that — it’s entitled hubris that sounds deeply and dreadfully boring.
Knowing? Where’s the fun in that? Give us wild hope and a stubborn belief that refuses to be extinguished, no matter what obstacles the baseball gods throw in our way. (Tug’s call to arms was as much battered defiance as it was optimism.) Those are the things that power our baseball dreams."
It's remarkable to think, that come September, these two New York franchise's will most likely be playing each other during each's respective pennant races, capable of putting a thorn into the other's playoff plans. That's remarkable, it's unprecedented, and could be a preview for more interleague Subway Series games a few weeks later... If you think I just jinxed it, I've decided to throw all caring of superstitions away. I DID say "COULD be" because that's all I know. WILL be won't be discussed here. That's where you're tempting the fates... But who KNOWS what those FATES have in store, because after the last week, week and a half, after the last few years and the last 10 years since I joined the Metsian River midstream, I couldn't have seen ANY of that rollercoaster we just experienced coming, and none of you saw it either. The full payoff hasn't been reached yet, but it felt GREAT to finally get to THIS point after so long. Believing is beautiful, and it's what I lost in the Yankees. I stopped believing in them once I became an adult. I saw that childlike joy lost in me as I settled into Yankee Fandom semi-adulthood, then full-fledged adulthood, or at least as what's determined by puberty and the American Law. I accepted my baseball identity at the age of 20, realizing it had been there the entire time. I am of the New York National League faith. I wasn't able to go to any games this weekend, because I work at night, and the "stooges of ESPN" as Howie referred to them moved the game to national last night. BUT I appreciate that the Mets were able to sweep the nationals on the national stage. We're patriotic here in New York, but we aren't Nationals. We're METROPOLITANS. Speaking of ESPN, though, they do a TERRIBLE job with their production and direction. It's always interesting to hear what the national broadcasters think of the Mets, like Curt Shilling, Aaron Boone, and what not, but the main guy isn't that good at calling, and the camera work and cut-to's are horrendous. Where was the foul pole look at Duda's home run? Why are you cutting to Bryce looking up? Don't you get access to all of SNY's good looks? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?! It's nights like that you really appreciate how great of a job SNY does with these games. At least Howie and Josh got to call the craziness of the 3rd inning, but definitely missed what Gary, Keith and Ron would have done with 3 home runs in 5 pitches. So, first, it was the Wilmer Flores Appreciation Night on Friday.
Then it was All the Du-da Night. Last night, the whole thing was an ENTIRE METSIAN effort. Curtis, Noah, Murph, Cespedes, Duda, Clippard, etc...
Greg Prince, of Faith and Fear in Flushing as well, might have thought he was Born Again back during the 11-game hitting streak, but it seems the entire Metropolitan fanbase was born again this weekend, and Citi Field would appear to be FINALLY christened.
That's as far as the regular season is concerned...
There's still a lot more work to do to keep the christenings coming.
I was biking down 8th Avenue, heading home from work. Well, I first wanted to stop by the Apple Store at 59th and 5th, because for the longest time, I have been listening to Mets games and talking to people with only the right ear in, as I had lost my left rubber ear bud. Someone please immediately start a band called My Left Rubber Ear Bud. Anyway, I was kind of amped up. I wonder why. On top of it being a fantastic night at Two Boots Hell's Kitchen (44th and 9th, stop by) the Mets finished the July end of the season with a ridiculous back and forth swing of the emotional Metsian pendulum, one which swung more violently in one 7-10 day span than I can ever remember in my 10 years of full-fledged Mets fandom, my 25-27 year awareness of the Mets, or my 20 years living in New York City. They sent us off into August on an unbelievable high, 2 games back in the division heading into the last 2 months of the season with another new and exciting player on his way into town to reinforce a roster who has hung on tight but desperately needs the help. And there I was, ready to get home after the long night, write about it and the way I experienced the moment Wilmer Flores hit that home run. And then I lost my footing on the pedals crossing 48th. I tried to recover, but it was too late, and I skidded to the ground in front of a couple going home, or where ever they may have been going. I hopped up immediately, the folks certainly concerned and immediately coming to my aid. My right forearm, on the bone side, was bleeding, and modestly. I asked the folks if they had any napkins, at which point a man pulling a hot dog cart across the street offered me napkins and squeezed hand sanitizer into my wound, which I would later find out is deeper than I thought (probably a couple centimeters.) It burned, but I enjoyed it. I felt alive, and already on the way to recovery while shaking my head at the turn of events. I love this town. "You can get band-aids there," the man said, pointing to Duane Reade on the northwest corner of 48th and 8th, a perfect place to crash if you can take care of everything yourself without an ambulance involved. I parked the bike, after thanking the folks who stopped to help, went into the place and bought big band-aids, Bacitracin and a spray-bottle of hydrogen peroxide. And a bottle of water. I grabbed some napkins, went back outside, took care of business and got back on my bike after sealing the wound. Apple was kind enough to give me replacement rubber ear bud covers for free, after which I kept biking on 59th Street over the bridge and onto the Long Island that houses Queens and Brooklyn. I biked home to Carroll between Franklin and Washington, around the corner from where some Bums used to play baseball. As the narrative of this post changed in my head as I was immediately thrusted into wound-healing operations, I thought to myself that what I am going through, and anything I have gone through in my life, pales in comparison to what Yoenis Cespedes has gone through in his life, especially just to play Major League Baseball in America...or what Wilmer Flores has gone through over the last 72 hours alone. Or what the Mets franchise and its fans have gone through. They, and we, have gotten through that shit. I'll be fine.
Already, seeing him in those other uniforms looks weird. Watching him in the Orange and Blue, which we were afforded 2 years ago, looks just right. They are the colors he was meant to wear. And I can't wait for him to get started.
I LOVE THIS TOWN.
2 months left. 2 games back. And a MONSTER about to enter the lineup.
It literally came out of nowhere. Completely from the blue.
There, in front of me, as I walked towards the Brooklyn Bridge after the MTA sucked again, and right before I got on the air with the Rising Apple Report (which you can scroll down to listen to once you're done with this post...) BUT there I was with plenty of tweets that appeared to confirm that Troy Tulowitzki, the shortstop from the Rockies Region, had been traded to the Canadian Region, and the Blue Jays were going to have to pay a hefty sum of prospects and... JOSE REYES?!?!?! That guy? Who has been traded TWICE now since signing a non-no-trade-clause contract with the team you should NEVER do that with? Is going to man shortstop in the high-mile air of the Purple Mountains Majesty?? Something's not right here...there must be more than meets the eye... Now, since it's only source-driven until teams announce it, we will see plenty of more details in the coming hours... But that hasn't stopped #MetsTwitter from erupting in a frenzy. Compared to a normal early-Tuesday morning on Twitter. Plenty of people just can't sleep because they are dreaming of the #BringBackReyes possibilities... Most people think Reyes is going to get flipped by Colorado, and I firmly believe that to be true. They want more pitching, because they've never really had it. It was never supposed to be this way. He was supposed to be here forever. So now it's time to bring him home.
Get Michael Fulmer and/or Rafael Montero together...and Jon Niese if you must. Or whatever they seem to value in your system that seems to have a dearth of pitching they've drafted and cultivated, that have now accounted for two trades that created a MUCH better vibe than what was left on this blog last week and plenty of others who were just absolutely fed up with the Wilpons and Inaction. But that has erupted as this push to the deadline continues. First, news of Michael Conforto, and their Social Media accounts of his whereabouts that had me complaining about the contradictory and circus-like nature of the Wilpons and the way they could potentially be #WorseThanOMalley, on my Facebook page about Bedford & Sullivan (ShamelessPlug,AnHBOStyleTVSeriesAboutBrooklyn AndIt'sDodgers...) THEN, secondly, almost right after I lambasted the owners, news broke out that the Mets had traded for Juan Uribe and Kelly Johnson. The Mets lost 7-2, Conforto looked comfortable with his first RBI, but all eyes were immediately on the next day. And the moves immediately took form. After Kelly Johnson's heroic homering in the 15-2 romp, and Juan Uribe's heroics in the 3-2 10th inning win, along with Michael Conforto really showin' us somethin' over the weekend, the Mets went out and solidified their bullpen with Tyler Clippard's arrival via trade. They got one more bat to go. Some, and I obviously wouldn't whine, want to see the Mets get one more slugger, which in reality they do need. And I would LOVE to see what Cepedes could do in a Mets uniform. But the Mets need a leadoff hitter. AND a shortstop. Though Grandy HAS been admirable, hitting very well of late and being one of my favorite Mets on the field...what a move to bring Reyes home. It would be an ASTOUNDING PR Move and, as Howard Medgal says:
Trade makes Mets immediately better at their position of greatest need. Reyes rejuvenated. And part of the next probable Mets playoff team.
This makes so much sense for so many reasons since it makes a ton of sense that the Rockies, who are going into rebuild mode, would flip Reyes to someone who needs a shortstop. Sure, he's in decline...and he's lost a step in decline...but he should have been in decline with US. Properly. In our WILDEST Metsian dreams.
Seems like a no-brainer, if you ask me.
Not that you were.
But I'm just sayin'.
Maybe I need to put it in the past...
Maybe it was another time....
Or maybe it's JUST what THIS TIME NEEDS.
#BRINGBACKREYES
LET'S. GO. METS.
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After losing 2 of 3 to the Cubbies going into the break, the Mets went out of the break on a 1-11 run.
The fact Jordany Valdespin is no longer on the team is not the ONLY difference between 2012, but it does interestingly offer a fitting symbol between the difference of this year, and the last year the Mets crashed and burned in July.
2013 and 2014 were miserable first halves with 2nd halves to build on. 2012 was the last time the Mets were in a position to contend, but they fell apart, and too quickly to even think about making a deal to support them.
Like 2010...
And kinda 2009, but that was the culmination of the mess of post-2006.
When you look at 2012, however, you remind yourselves of where the Mets were.
Johan Santana completely broke down.
Lucas Duda, still in the outfield, and Kirk Nieuwenhuis stopped hitting and were sent back to AAA.
The completely unsustainable rampage of 2-out hits predictably dried up.
And Frank Francisco was the closer.
It's crazy to think of how bad the offense currently is, but when you look at the lineup, even without Wright or d'Arnaud in there, it should be much better. Is how historically bad they've been really sustainable?
The pitching is world's and world's above where it was in the 2nd half of 2012, when Johan Santana, a great 1st half, was a non-factor, Matt Harvey was getting his feet wet, Dillon Gee was an anchor and R.A. Dickey was the only true ace. And Jeremy Hefner was getting innings.
Plus, now, there is Jeurys Familia, arguably the best closer in baseball currently.
The Mets are in a MUCH better position to continue to contend heading into these final games of the year.
It's up to Sandy Alderson and the Wilpons, however, if they want to make 2015 it's own special thing...
I hadn't gotten too much sleep over that last week. I had eyed these offdays, Monday and Tuesday, as days to soak up sequences of R.E.M. The only thing is I'm broke, in need of an apartment, and some short-term supplemental income luckily bursted onto the scene. I was left with no choice. Less sleep it was.
Around gametime, my friend and I, who helped get me the gig, wrapped it up. So, from 7:10 on, with a walk through Soho, Noho and up towards Union Sq., onto the Q train to Flatbush Brooklyn, it was around the middle of the game that I laid down on my bed. Clearly, there was the risk of falling asleep with this crucial matchup on, but after a long day into a hard day's night, I just wanted to relax with the game on, and relax with the game on I did.
And longer than I freakin' expected to.
As those innings kept dragging on, I was in that perfect zone of completely awake but sleeping to the rest of the world except for you and your game. The fact it went all the way to the 14th inning wasn't a detriment. It felt like the perfect world.
That seems to be the Mets number lately. 14 runs Saturday, 14 innings Monday. We're lucky the game didn't go into Tuesday.
I can only hope 14 is a good omen, with a certain Gil watching over us more so this year.
Good things happen when luck and preparation meet.
It's me. Matt Harvey. Oh. Some of you haven't heard of me? Well don't worry. By June or so, you will have. You see, my team, The New York Mets, had started looking listless. Though they played well without getting the winning runs in those last 2 Miami games, unfortunately, our first loss at home was suffered because of miscues up the middle. Our team, well positioned after one month, exACTLY where I wanted us to be when I went on my quest to return from the darkness of the DL and lead our team towards the promised land, had not looked good over the last week of April, while the divisional opponents that were "predicted" to give us the most problems had started playing a much crisper brand of baseball. One of those divisional opponents had beaten us SOUNDLY on Thursday night, and they had driven in a ridiculous amount of runs over the last 3 games. They were sending a man I very well know to be SICK at pitching a baseball, and that man was Max Scherzer. How could I give up a run? There was nowhere and no place that I could possibly give up a run to a team that had been raking the past 3 games. Why would I do that? There would be no logical sense to it. So, our veteran of the team, Mr. Cuddyer, teed one the other way off Maxwell, and later on, Mr. Werth stumbled on what would have been a 2-0 sac fly. But the shoes went every which way. And I pumped my batfist into the air as we made it what would be a 4-0 win. Because there would be no logical sense for us to go 15-9. Because things have changed around here.
By the time the bases were loaded in the 9th inning, with the game having long before reached the point of feeling there was no way we would come back, I was actually hoping the Nats would blow the whole thing wide open. We and the Mets had been so high only more than a week ago, it's good to have that opposite feeling so you never want to feel that again for the rest of the season.
Both I, we and the Mets know that's probably not going to happen, but it's time to do all that is possible to prevent more like that from occurring.
Though a small step in the grand scheme of things, calling up the red-hot 2nd baseman Dilson Herrera was a proper reactive move to the lack of middle defense that has cost us games. Though they will have some things to figure out in a week or so when David Wright comes back, they saw an opportunity to get more offense all around in the starting lineup, relegating Eric "Soup" Campbell to his bench position he will most likely hold down for the remainder of the season. Though I'm THIS close to being ready to not having Daniel Murphy on this team, if not already on the other side, wanting to package him, Jon Niese and Dillon Gee in a trade, I've seen the "natural" 3rd baseman, as we've been told multiple times, play 3rd base, and you know what? For some reason, the rough gloved Murph is absolutely fine.
The BIG decision that hangs over this team will be what to do with Wilmer Flores if he predictably continues to struggle majorly on defense. And a .266 batting average all year won't cut it. It will be interesting to see how the roster shakes out the next few weeks.
Regardless how much of a letdown the end of April was, it's still unbelievable how well positioned the Mets have put themselves to stay in it. That's why some kind of move had to be made after yesterday. There is a fluidity to this front office and its day-to-day operation that we haven't seen in a long, long time. Hopefully, with new expectations and a higher level of accountability and pressure will take this franchise to another level.
Otherwise, the Wilpons really are seriously fucked.
