No moment better epitomizes the hope of the Mets young season than the two 12th inning balks committed by the remarkably hesitant Armando Benitez of the Giants out at Shea on May 30. With Jose Reyes juking and jiving on the bases, it was like the Mets past (symbolized by the flinty ego of Armando Benitez in the painful memories of his ’99-‘03 Mets stint) flinching at its immediate future, the irrepressible Reyes. A leg twitch by Armando, a hesitation of will which told of his fear, the smile of Reyes like a deadly and charming feline predator.
After Reyes scored on balk 2 and Carlos Delgado homered, the Mets were dancing around home plate in glee and, in a classic case of “don’t shoot the messenger,” Benitez was immediately shipped off to the Marlins in exchange for a fellow reliever, David Messenger. While the positive symbols were obvious to any Mets fan whose gastrointestinal health suffered when Benitez used to take the mound, it’s hard to celebrate in a season where its been declared “anything less than the World Series is a disappointment.”
Delgado's slump has continued; he struck out looking with the bases loaded Sunday, as the Mets got snakebit 4-1 by the D-Backs. The clutch bat of this wily veteran has provided its share of late inning magic, but cannot be counted on alone. As Beltran sat with a busted knee and Wright, just back from back spasms, looked tentative, the Mets offense, including an all-reserve outfield of Endy Chavez, Ben Johnson and Carlos Gomez, was punchless and beatable.
The Mets, at some point in their quest, will meet an opponent who won’t flinch. Reyes clearly will always be dancing and deadly and will be smiling a lot. And Delgado will be magic sometimes. However, in order to triumph, the Mets will need Wright and Beltran to be not just at their average selves, but stepping it up to that other level.
Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts
Monday, June 4, 2007
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Abolish "The Cycle"
I can’t believe they implicated Mom in the idiotic media charade that is “The Cycle”.
This Sunday, Mother’s Day, Fred Lewis, rookie centerfielder of the San Francisco Giants, playing in only his 16th big league game as a daytime sub for Randy Winn, hit an imaginary and unimportant smorgasbord of hits known as “The Cycle.” Immediately, the journalists who have suffered through the Giants’ 15-2 dismantling of the Rockies are reporting: It’s a Mother’s Day Miracle. “I called to tell her I didn’t get her anything,” Lewis was quoted as saying, “until now.”
In defense of Fred Lewis’ Mom and the good of baseball, it should be pointed out that the unusual combination of single-double-triple-home run is nothing but an artificial statistical oddity, and the fact that Lewis attained it does not make his Mom love him any more, and should not be a substitute for buying her flowers or at least a nice card. Game winning hits and clutch performances should be celebrated above all. If you want to celebrate a statistical oddity, wouldn’t four homers be a hitter’s perfect game? Or two grand slams? If you were going for the individual statistical gusto in a blowout game, and you had a homer, triple and double, why on earth would you want a single instead of another home run?
Yet that was exactly the unexpected situation which the rookie Lewis found himself in. “There were fans behind the on deck circle who were yelling that I needed a single” Lewis reported. He obliged with a quick little singles swing and a ball lined into right against the beleaguered Colorado bullpen, as “history” was made. There should be much less significance to this “full house” of all the hits, the media really needs to let up. Or if they must persist with “The Cycle”, at least have the decency to leave Mom out of your circus.
This Sunday, Mother’s Day, Fred Lewis, rookie centerfielder of the San Francisco Giants, playing in only his 16th big league game as a daytime sub for Randy Winn, hit an imaginary and unimportant smorgasbord of hits known as “The Cycle.” Immediately, the journalists who have suffered through the Giants’ 15-2 dismantling of the Rockies are reporting: It’s a Mother’s Day Miracle. “I called to tell her I didn’t get her anything,” Lewis was quoted as saying, “until now.”
In defense of Fred Lewis’ Mom and the good of baseball, it should be pointed out that the unusual combination of single-double-triple-home run is nothing but an artificial statistical oddity, and the fact that Lewis attained it does not make his Mom love him any more, and should not be a substitute for buying her flowers or at least a nice card. Game winning hits and clutch performances should be celebrated above all. If you want to celebrate a statistical oddity, wouldn’t four homers be a hitter’s perfect game? Or two grand slams? If you were going for the individual statistical gusto in a blowout game, and you had a homer, triple and double, why on earth would you want a single instead of another home run?
Yet that was exactly the unexpected situation which the rookie Lewis found himself in. “There were fans behind the on deck circle who were yelling that I needed a single” Lewis reported. He obliged with a quick little singles swing and a ball lined into right against the beleaguered Colorado bullpen, as “history” was made. There should be much less significance to this “full house” of all the hits, the media really needs to let up. Or if they must persist with “The Cycle”, at least have the decency to leave Mom out of your circus.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Reflections on the Mets Elimination
The David Wright Vitamin Water ads were instantly ubiquitous on the phone booths and bus stations of New York within days of the Mets horrific Game 7 elimination at the hands of the Cardinals. “For David Wright, it works” the ads contend, below a picture of Wright, not in the blue and orange of the Mets but in the plain white, unlabeled uniform of corporate America. Still smarting from the shocking conclusion of the playoffs, in which Wright only hit .216, I find myself asking angry questions as I face the omnipresent reminders from the folks at Vitamin Water. Such as: “If it works for David, does that mean he would have would have hit .000 without it?”, “How many hours in the batting cage did he miss while mugging for those shots?”, and “Why doesn’t he have his own flavor like 50 Cent?”
Is there anyone better than David Wright on whom to pin the blame for the Mets flameout? After watching the wheels of the pitching staff come off in brutal fashion with the shocking and/or predictable injuries to Martinez and El Duque, the Mets fans knew there would be significant amounts of postseason magic needed to carry the team through. The Mets entered the playoffs with a scotch-taped-together staff but with a confidence born from a season of dominant offense, clutch play, and a flair for the dramatic that left the Mets still a Vegas favorite. The killer was, that postseason pixie dust did indeed get sprinkled on the young, untested arms of John Maine and Oliver Perez, and then even Tom Glavine, the last of 300 game winners, found the dominance of his prime with a streak of 13 shutout innings. You even have to look at veteran Darren Oliver, who contemplated retirement after some bad outings with the AAA Iowa Cubs before joining the Mets this spring, had that one last meaningful moment he imagined was left in his arm, shutting out St. Louis for 6 innings in game 2 after starter Steve Trachsel was terrible. Overall the pitching was actually just fine. Coulda been a touching story about the pitchers. They even had that awesome Endy Chavez catch. What they needed was a couple more timely hits.
Mets fans looked at the Cardinals series, knowing pitching dominates in the postseason, and conceded the Cards had an advantage in this category. They had the soon-to-be two time Cy Young winner (Carpenter), a wily journeyman (Suppan) and that surfer looking guy with the blond hair who got booted from the Yankees (Weaver). Which certainly wouldn’t have been THAT daunting if the Mets had their usual guys, but even without Martinez and El Duque, 8 of 8 of the New York Posts’ experts picked the Mets to win the series, obviously not because of their pitching, but because their hitting was so powerful, so magical, so clutch.
And it was all season. Wright was at the heart of it all, his fat .358 average with runners at third and two outs, his hustle in clutch moments gave the Mets that final, deadly advantage beyond the huge talent of Reyes, Beltran, Delgado and Lo Duca. In the Cards series you could sense Wright’s absence as these other star hitters contributed in turn. Delgado was on fire, dropping bombs throughout, looking like a series MVP and getting walked three times in the decisive game 7. Beltran and Reyes each single-handedly seized one game, as Beltran’s homer was the only offense in the Mets 2-0 game one victory, and Reyes’ leadoff shot and speed were the advantage in game 5. Lo Duca scattered productive singles throughout, hitting a respectable .275 in the playoffs. The offense wasn’t on fire, but these clutch performances at least got them to game 7. Where was the clutch David Wright performance?
Modells sales executives stated this year David Wright finally ended a 10 year run by Derek Jeter as the top nameplated sports gear seller in New York. Anyone who has been to a Mets game in 2006 can attest it seems like well over 50% of the shirts and jerseys bear his name. It’s safe to say virtually all of the women who come to Shea sporting the name of a player have David Wright gear, much of it targeted toward Wright’s sex appeal, such as the “Mrs. Wright” version of the female-cut tee. David Wright is the face of the Mets.
It’s the nature of all sports, future potential for promising young stars is richly rewarded. David Wright has been rewarded because he is the plucky and likeable son of Virginia Beach cop, a hard-working 23 year old who practices, hustles, is humble and has a good attitude, and because he SHOULD come through in a Playoff game 7. He should get that key single the other way, fouling off pitches to get to something he can handle, controlling his nerves despite the noise and situation which is making the high-priced prima donnas around him crumble under pressure. Kind of like David Eckstein was able to do for the Cards.
So, having failed to come through in Game 7 and throughout the entire postseason, Wright owes one to the Mets fans. These fans who have given him so much unconditional love before the postseason even arrived as the guy we would/should/could rely on if we ever got there. That’s what Mets fans are thinking every day when they pass those dragonberry-red Vitamin Water ads on the way to work. That and “Steve Trachsel is terrible”.
Is there anyone better than David Wright on whom to pin the blame for the Mets flameout? After watching the wheels of the pitching staff come off in brutal fashion with the shocking and/or predictable injuries to Martinez and El Duque, the Mets fans knew there would be significant amounts of postseason magic needed to carry the team through. The Mets entered the playoffs with a scotch-taped-together staff but with a confidence born from a season of dominant offense, clutch play, and a flair for the dramatic that left the Mets still a Vegas favorite. The killer was, that postseason pixie dust did indeed get sprinkled on the young, untested arms of John Maine and Oliver Perez, and then even Tom Glavine, the last of 300 game winners, found the dominance of his prime with a streak of 13 shutout innings. You even have to look at veteran Darren Oliver, who contemplated retirement after some bad outings with the AAA Iowa Cubs before joining the Mets this spring, had that one last meaningful moment he imagined was left in his arm, shutting out St. Louis for 6 innings in game 2 after starter Steve Trachsel was terrible. Overall the pitching was actually just fine. Coulda been a touching story about the pitchers. They even had that awesome Endy Chavez catch. What they needed was a couple more timely hits.
Mets fans looked at the Cardinals series, knowing pitching dominates in the postseason, and conceded the Cards had an advantage in this category. They had the soon-to-be two time Cy Young winner (Carpenter), a wily journeyman (Suppan) and that surfer looking guy with the blond hair who got booted from the Yankees (Weaver). Which certainly wouldn’t have been THAT daunting if the Mets had their usual guys, but even without Martinez and El Duque, 8 of 8 of the New York Posts’ experts picked the Mets to win the series, obviously not because of their pitching, but because their hitting was so powerful, so magical, so clutch.
And it was all season. Wright was at the heart of it all, his fat .358 average with runners at third and two outs, his hustle in clutch moments gave the Mets that final, deadly advantage beyond the huge talent of Reyes, Beltran, Delgado and Lo Duca. In the Cards series you could sense Wright’s absence as these other star hitters contributed in turn. Delgado was on fire, dropping bombs throughout, looking like a series MVP and getting walked three times in the decisive game 7. Beltran and Reyes each single-handedly seized one game, as Beltran’s homer was the only offense in the Mets 2-0 game one victory, and Reyes’ leadoff shot and speed were the advantage in game 5. Lo Duca scattered productive singles throughout, hitting a respectable .275 in the playoffs. The offense wasn’t on fire, but these clutch performances at least got them to game 7. Where was the clutch David Wright performance?
Modells sales executives stated this year David Wright finally ended a 10 year run by Derek Jeter as the top nameplated sports gear seller in New York. Anyone who has been to a Mets game in 2006 can attest it seems like well over 50% of the shirts and jerseys bear his name. It’s safe to say virtually all of the women who come to Shea sporting the name of a player have David Wright gear, much of it targeted toward Wright’s sex appeal, such as the “Mrs. Wright” version of the female-cut tee. David Wright is the face of the Mets.
It’s the nature of all sports, future potential for promising young stars is richly rewarded. David Wright has been rewarded because he is the plucky and likeable son of Virginia Beach cop, a hard-working 23 year old who practices, hustles, is humble and has a good attitude, and because he SHOULD come through in a Playoff game 7. He should get that key single the other way, fouling off pitches to get to something he can handle, controlling his nerves despite the noise and situation which is making the high-priced prima donnas around him crumble under pressure. Kind of like David Eckstein was able to do for the Cards.
So, having failed to come through in Game 7 and throughout the entire postseason, Wright owes one to the Mets fans. These fans who have given him so much unconditional love before the postseason even arrived as the guy we would/should/could rely on if we ever got there. That’s what Mets fans are thinking every day when they pass those dragonberry-red Vitamin Water ads on the way to work. That and “Steve Trachsel is terrible”.
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