Archives for posts with tag: Colorado Rockies

I watched only Chowdah’s home run last night in the game vs. the Rockies (L; 5-2). 

One of the unfortunate facts of life in New York City is the crush of people one encounters day in and day out.  By the math alone, you’re bound to see something you don’t like, eventually.  And at the risk of turning my stomach again, and your stomachs, I saw something rather temporary, but rather unfortunate, on my ride home last night.  It ruined my dinner.  Frankly, at the time of this writing (5a), I’m still not with it. 

So I sucked down water and avoided anything else that would turn my stomach.  Flipped on the game just to catch the score, wished them luck after the home run, and landed on my bed with such ferocity that I think I cracked another one of the support slats.  (Never you mind how the first was cracked.)

Funny thing is, had I gone with my initial instinct for plans last night, and headed out to Coney Island to see Beltran in his Brooklyn rehab start, I’d’ve missed the incident entirely, and gotten sick by way of too many hot dogs and too much beer, and the sideshows that take on an unappreciated ghoulishness once the sun goes down.

Carlos Beltran went one-for-three with a walk and an RBI, yet still managed to get picked off first, which means he’s most definitely a Met for 2009.  Peter Botte of the Daily News seems to believe Beltran will stick with the Cyclones through Friday, so the possibility of making myself sick on Friday is still alive.

In my life, I’ve not had a six-month run of illness like I’ve had this year.  A throat thing; an eye thing; a couple of stomach things; my back; my recent cold.  Usually I’m healthy as an ox and can pace bulls.  Got to thinking about this last night and wasn’t sure if I could be blamed for the Mets woes or if I could blame the Mets for my woes, or simply chalk it up to coincidence.

If I had a training staff, though, I’d probably fire them.  Good thing I don’t have a training staff.  I hate firing people.

But does anyone remember Carlos Beltran’s swine flu business back in May?  Before the bone bruise, the guy couldn’t keep anything down and had to be put on fluids. 

The wrap-up of this woeful series against the Rockies is, at the time of this writing, ten hours away.  Hopefully I won’t have that nauseous feeling and Beltran’s knee won’t explode and we can both share the same airspace at Kesypan Park tomorrow, braced for whatever new horrors lurk around the corner.  Or under that dumb ride that carries people up slowly, then down slowly, in a doughnut-shaped carriage.

Advertisements

It’s 4-1 in the bottom of the seventh.  Fernando Tatis, showing signs of life, belts a homer off the “Super Guarantee” sign in left field, after watching one sail over his head just a few minutes earlier.

Daniel Murphy flies out to right.  Angel Berroa?  Left.  Omir Santos?  He chops a double; it tails past where we can’t see and he’s in, easily.

You can’t believe you’ve just spent five minutes of your life cheering for the likes of Fernando Tatis, Daniel Murphy, Angel Berroa, and Omir Santos.  That’s like cheering for Robin Duke, Brad Hall, Tim Kazurinsky, and Joe Piscopo.

Jeremy Reed comes in to pinch hit for Brian Stokes, who should’ve been in for Jon Niese after Tatis made that amazing grab in the top of the seventh.  Then Matt Daley gets pulled for Franklin Morales.  So Reed gets pulled for (wait for it)… Robinson Cancel.

The staggering corpse of Robinson Cancel.

You just don’t do that.

You also don’t risk an entire upcoming season to play at less than one hundred percent, Carlos Beltran.  What in the world do you know and we don’t?  Are the prophecies true?  Should I start buying bottled water and digging a cave out of a limestone cliff?  If that’s so, then shouldn’t the prospect of making the playoffs seem not unreachable, but unimportant?  We know you’re a badass.  Don’t be a hero.

Nothin’ makes sense no more.  I’m going to try for the Blue Smoke line tonight.  Comfort food, baby.  Comfort.  Food.

*I’m not a mope.  I know the Mets took three of four from the Rockies, and I should be grateful.  But… Robinson Cancel?  ROBINSON.  CANCEL.  He’s the fifth Beatle!

I have not flat-out made some of these statements, though I may have made insinuations, “jokes,” or the like.  Here we go, in no particular order:

  1. Chowdah makes a poor addition to the Mets: he’s been with the club for fewer than twenty-one days and has 16 RBI.  He’s been no-hit three times in those fifteen games, all gut-wrenching, hat-eating losses for the team as a whole.
  2. Cory Sullivan is less interesting than Cuby & the Blizzards: he is slightly more interesting than Cuby & the Blizzards.  I would have to pay for Cuby & the Blizzards entertainment.  Cory Sullivan’s salary is listed as $0.  Yes, I’m employing some fuzzy math.  But let’s see Cuby connect for a triple against Juan Rincon.
  3. It’s hard to hit triples off Juan Rincon: this one’s brand-new.  But the guy’s got a 6.20 ERA.  I’m trying to square myself on the fly, here.
  4. Luis Castillo is a creature of ill-repute: the man’s just doubled-up on fatherhood, and he’s headed to the park for Game Two of the doubleheader.  That along with his gaudy OBP makes him okay.  Not $24-million-over-four-years-okay, but okay.  I’m sorry I threatened to run to the field and assault you for showing bunt this past Memorial Day.
  5. Tim Redding is Teflon: this is just housekeeping; he hasn’t been Teflon in some time (Ian Stewart double-plays to keep the shutout intact notwithstanding).
  6. David Wright should not bat third: I’m not so much wrong about this as the line-up’s been good enough to provide some protection, thus making the point moot.  The team is running on several cylinders at present.  Daniel Murphy remains a semi-beast.  Luis Castillo is, as mentioned, not a horrible man.  And given that Chowdah looks and smiles a bit like David Wright and is hitting in the five-hole, maybe pitchers are just confusing the two.
  7. The Mets should look into acquiring Doug Davis: I don’t recall if I made mention of this on the blog, or to people within shouting distance.  But Mr. Davis hasn’t been any great shakes, and his salary leaves a bit to be desired given what seems to be dangling out there now.
  8. And 9. And 10. The Mets bench cannot afford to be so short as to only hold four players, let alone three: According to Jerry Manuel, Livan Hernandez took batting practice yesterday just in case he’d be called on to pinch-hit.  Why the hell not?

Note that I’ve been wrong about these things thus far.  I could be proven right.  But I’d love to be proven wrong about my negatives and right about my positives.  I’d be the happiest wrong guy in New York.

Game Two starts in a little under three hours.  Your line-up, as reported by Metsblog (sorry, Mr. Cerrone, for cribbing off your paper; I’m in a pinch and can’t find it elsewhere):

Angel Pagan, CF
Luis Castillo, 2B
David Wright, 3B
Jeff Francouer, RF
Fernando Tatis, LF
Daniel Murphy, 1B
Angel Berroa, SS
Omir Santos, C
Jon Niese, SP

I’ll be sleeping off this headache after the game, then at tomorrow’s game against the Diamondbacks. 

Let’s go Mets!

And the boys aren’t doing too bad for themselves, either.  4-0, bottom 2nd.  Johan up with Angel Berroa on third due to a fielding error.

…And now Johan is out.  Just one out, though.

That’s about all I can follow, as I’m swamped.  But it’s been fun chatting with the electronic ether.  Let’s go Mets!