Those having followed since at least the weekend know I skipped last Friday’s game to meet The Wife at The Airport, and quite possibly go to The Movies.
 
I met The Wife at The Airport, but going to The Movies did not happen. There was traffic, of the sort which implied that people had heard a young starter-turned reliever-turned starter named Robert Parnell was shutting down the San Francisco Giants. We got to Bay Ridge and settled by the time the movie was to start in Chelsea, and had dinner at a place that deemed Jets preseason football more important than the game out in Flushing.
 
(…Perspective eluded me there.  Mark Sanchez’s Jets debut is a lot more important at this stage of Bay Ridge’s dealing with the 2009 season than Bobby Parnell’s start against the Giants.  My bad.)
 
Anyway, we didn’t get to The Movies. Last night, though, was the rain check. And by dint of working during the afternoon on the Upper East Side, I was spared the onrush of traffic leaving Flushing as this time Bobby Parnell was meeting a team with offense, wearing the pinstripes and blue cap everyone’s always so on about. Bobby got jacked for nine runs before I left Jake’s Saloon for the theater down the block. But at least he was well-dressed.
 
Saw Julie & Julia, and not exactly by choice. Much like Mets games I’ve watched lately, I sat through it out of an admixture of essentially blind devotion, curiosity, and hope for something great. 
 
It’s a fine enough movie; if you find yourself stuck in the house on a Saturday afternoon in about six months (remember when it took Jurassic Park two YEARS to come out on VHS?), and this happens to be on a movie channel, turn it on.  It’s a great nap movie, too, and I say that without snark: I am a fan of nap movies.  Make a sandwich. Turn the movie on. Eat the sandwich. Stretch out on the couch. Drift in and out. Jolt awake whenever Meryl Streep’s Julia Child impression drifts from Meryl Streep Butter to Dan Aykroyd Ham. Fine for that.
 
We all sat too close to the screen and I’d had a long enough half day to make the experience less enjoyable than that, and Amy Adams has yet to capture my interest in a role. But as I stated, a fine enough movie.
 
When the movie ended and politesse allowed for the checking of BlackBerry widgets, I’d found no saving of Bobby Parnell’s performance, which had not matched Robert Parnell’s for poise. He just wasn’t very good after the first inning. His pitches didn’t sink late, and the Braves ate him alive.  Because, unlike the Giants, the Braves can hit.
 
He seemed to lose his composure after the defensive lapses behind him led to two more runs than had any right to score. Bobby’s meltdown was portrayed much more subtly than Julie’s, though that’s not saying much. There are no hissy fits in baseball.  No crying, no tantrums, no hissy fits. Please to note, however: giving up eight runs in one inning in front of thousands is more worthy of a hissy fit than a failed aspic.
 
(An aspic, by the by, is a dish composed of your choice of ingredients in a gelatinized stock, most often meat-based. And I will pitch a FIT if that’s ever served me.)
 
Hopefully Bobby will watch some tape of his game against the Giants, of his better relief outings, and find the Robert within. He was pitching more for himself than anyone else last night anyway, and that’s fine if this season’s indeed come to that. Besides, rubber matches are why they invented Johan Santana.

As long as he doesn’t try to feed me aspic, whine about cooking, or marry that schlub from the last season of Six Feet Under, I’ll enjoy watching Bobby’s next outing.

**Those in the New York City area should come out on Tuesday, August 25th, to the next Amazin’ Tuesday hosted at Two Boots Pizzeria on Grand Street, and presented by the good people at Faith And Fear In Flushing.  By my count, this will be the third event they’ve had there, following one in late July and one in mid-June.  I should be there, and if you’d like to come say hello I’ll be the one taking the photos and drinking the beer and, if he’s there, chatting with Kirby behind the counter.

Check out details on the event here, and come out.  Barring any rambunctious children celebrating a birthday, it should be a fun time.  Yes, the game will be on: should be Johan in Florida.