From the desk of: HEAD-BUTTING MR. MET
NEW YORK METS - The S.S. Wilpon Is Still Bobbing Atop A Glass Top Surface In Flushing Bay.
Have the last twenty innings of baseball caused irreparable damage to your senses as they did mine? My nostrils are singed - my eyes irritated and red.
Like the stench of dead rotting FISH under a blazing summer sun, so too does the Mets line-up wreak - of offensively magnificent futility. Thirteen hits off eight different pitchers, while just five hits came off Miami's regulation time front five, rank foul like melting fish heads and seagull pickings left behind on a dock. That's six hits per nine innings played-plus, or try, thirteen hits is the equivalent of 2.2 games played. Runs scored, or lack there of, also cross my eyes with shock. The Mets scored just one run over the same stretch of innings. They were 0-19 with runners in scoring position. That averages to just under one failure per inning. In all, the Mets left a total of twenty-two runners on base. All this against the Miami Marlins, statistically, the worst team in baseball.
When overwhelmed with such odoriferous circumstances, one instantly ponders what got them into such a situation, and what's the quickest escape. To both queries, the Wilpons got us into this mess, and as die-hard fans, there's no way out. There is no removing the pungent smell of decay in a floundering local fish market, when the owners of the market itself are the embedded root offenders. The condition is, under the Wilpon's, the Mets stink, and as such, a fish rots from the head, down. In the mean time, we continue getting served the three-eyed, LaGuardia raised jet fuel dumped AAAA-grade catch of the day oozing in the muck off Flushing Bay. And while making no disparaging remarks about their final market product, the species used by McDonald's for their fish fillets are one of the ugliest on the planet. And well...the Mets season is right there with them. My mom would always make my son eat a fish-o-fillet if he wanted McDonalds. Mr. Wilpon feeds us this.
Almost a third of the way into June, I just can't help but feel, time continues to be of the essence. I am still not detecting the sense of urgency I feel Sandy Alderson should be operating with. At least Sandy Alderson gained some clarity, finally tossing Rick Ankiel back in the water. Outfielder Kirk Nieuwenhuis was recalled from Las Vegas to take his place on the active roster - finally, if anything, some one else. Perhaps now Marlon Byrd, who in no way projects into the Mets future plans, can be thrown overboard as well. The Mets paid fisherman still has many more decisions to make regarding where to cast his current and future net. Just as the season is long, unfortunately, bobbing and trolling on a glass-top ocean is tedious. Twenty innings is a long time to think, or hold a rod. As reeling Rick Ankiel aboard a dead man's boat was so incredibly inconsequential to begin with, I was left to think when will Sandy Alderson consider casting the really beg net? Such as life aboard the S.S. Wilpon. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.