I’ll be headed to the game tonight. As you can see I’ll be there in style with my orange and blue fingers and toes. I may even decide to break out the kids clubhouse pom-pom I got at the “Mets at the Movies” last year. That’s still to be determined though.
So, why am I so excited when this team has been doing little more than inventing new ways to stink it up (last night excluded)? Well, it’s been almost a month since I’ve been to a game. That is way too long. Win or lose I’m going to go out there and enjoy being at Shea. I’m going to take it all in and enjoy it because I’ll only have a hand full of these days left. I may even take my mom’s lead and pay more attention to everything going on around me than watching the game. Normally this drives me absolutely insane but that was before the massive amounts of suckage emanating from the Mets clubhouse.
Unrelated side note: I totally loved Beltran’s deke last night, pretending to lose the ball in the lights in hopes to tempt the pitcher off of first base and double him up. It didn’t work but it was a nice try. That’s what I like to see.
Oh… but it’s Friday the 13th. Freaky things are supposed to happen today, right?
Last night was laundry night which means going to my parents’ and watching the game with my mom. We were pretty quiet. Some discussion of how this team can’t seem to come through for Pelfrey no matter how well he pitches. Tuesday’s team meeting that had zero effect on the team. How Tuesday’s game was the end of the end for me. My mom still remaining optimistic… And then the ninth inning happened.
Wagner comes in for the save…
mom: If we lose this lead Willie is on the shit list. [Random fact about my mom: she never ever ever curses. not even the “S word”.]
me: I think he’s already on that list.
mom: Well, MY shit list.
Fast forward to two men on, two outs and a full count…
me: this is where the game blows up. one strike left and they can’t make it happen.
Bat meets ball. Ball meets bleachers. Lead blown. SHOCKER! Both my mom and I reached a new level of anger during the ninth inning of this game. Yes, I know in the end they won the game. Yay! Woo! hrrmmm… I think it’s more like Pheeeeewwww!
Scotty. Darling.
Please don’t force me hate you again. Last night you really hurt my feelings. I thought we were on the verge of being BFFs. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you last night. I was fast asleep when I should have been yelling at the TV and pulling for you to get out of the mess you got yourself into. However this is no excuse. I can’t be by your side all the time. Get it together.
Love, Julie
P.S. Please understand that I am not really mad at you. You’ve been mostly fabulous all season. I’m just taking out my Ollie caused aggression on you.
I watched Ollie’s horrific first inning. I watched multiple base runners left stranded. I watched until the end of the 5th inning. It was just shy of midnight and the score was 6-1 Giants when I opted for sleep over baseball. History tells us the odds were not in our favor to win. So why was I shocked when I looked at the box score of the game this morning? I suppose with all this turn around in the last week (not to mention that the Giants are just a bad team) I had faith that the Mets could pull something together to score some runs. Some runs. As in more than one freakin’ run. Even more than the fact that we couldn’t score I was surprised that they allowed 4 more runs to score on them. But why? Why am I shocked by this? I am freakin’ delusional when it comes to this team.
Jon Miller is it even possible for you to make a statement about baseball that you don’t read off a teleprompter? How I can be bored out of my mind after a 2 home run / 5 run inning boggles my mind.
