Specifically, any one of the genus of Picoraviridae that knocked me out this weekend.

In short, I had a cold.

I have the worst colds because I suffer the shortest colds.  For me, they’re the upper respiratory equivalent of ripping a Band-Aid off in a single yank.  Or the baseball equivalent of turning a triple play.

Or the Perez equivalent of getting yanked mid-count.

I honestly have never seen that happen.  To any pitcher.  Granted, there wasn’t television available in the dorm rooms at Bennington College, so I missed a significant chunk of live Mets mediocrity.  I had to settle for reading about it online. (Remember what the Mets website looked like in 2001?  Neither do I.)  But in my time of watching Mets baseball, I don’t recall a pitcher getting pulled out mid-count.

Hell, it’s to the point where I’ve been telling people not-in-the-baseball-know that you can’t take a pitcher out mid-count unless he’s injured.  My God, was I wrong about that.  Now I have to go back and tell people I’m a moron.  They knew this already; still… embarrassing.

So now I’ve gotta find out when the last time was that such a thing happened.  I will email various fine folks; I will scour the Intertubes.  I may ask people at Two Boots tomorrow, if I’m not still hacking up a lung.

Which I don’t think I will be.  Colds for me are done after a couple days; most I see suffering colds suffer them for a week or two.  Not me.  Something knocks me off my horse, I loll about in the dirt for a bit, I’m asked if I want some aspirin or cough suppressant and say no; I hallucinate in the middle of the night that Ron Livingston is going to blow me out into space; I sneeze like a maniac for four hours; I get right back on.

By the by, you may ask: why am I more interested in the history of pitchers removed mid-count than the eviscerating of Oliver Perez for his terrible performance?  The answer: if this is indeed the rarity I think it is, I have him to thank for giving me a thumbnail answer to anyone’s assertion that he’s any sort of good.

Someone: “Oliver Perez is throwing some heat tonight.”
Me: “Three balls to Pedro Martinez after two three-run homers, and he was pulled mid-count.”

Someone: “Wow, that was amazing!  You see Ollie get out of that jam?”
Me: “Three balls to Pedro Martinez after two three-run homers, and he was pulled mid-count.”

Someone: “Oliver Perez sure can climb into a car without hitting his head on the roof.”
Me:  “Three balls to Pedro Martinez after two three-run homers, and he was pulled mid-count.”

The Mets have had some BAD players in their time.  But this guy feels like he’s worse than New York Mets bad.  I don’t know what that would be, but it’s out there.

Mets wrap it up in just about an hour against the Phillies.  Bobby Parnell squares off against Cliff Lee, and I hear the Phillies are spotting the Mets four runs before the game even begins.  Will not, I hear, affect Cliff Lee’s ERA.

Lest you think I’m a curmudgeon, know that I’ve watched this video at least a dozen times since yesterday.  The best part is when Victorino throws up his hands.

Heh, heh, heh.

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