The Mets won last Thursday night 5-4 on a walk-off  bottom of the ninth Delgado single off the glove of elephan man who is now working for the Braves in the outfield. It was Chipper Jones' and the Braves last day at Shea, and that has to be a good thing. We've seen enough of Chipper and his men. But what is weird, is...well, I kept playing that video clip of Elephane's "error" over and over, and the ball never touches his glove, but seems to just change direction all my itself. I cannot get a freeze frame where the ball is actually near his glove. But its great watching him fall over as the Mets players go crazy running onto the field and hugging each other. And I'm not complaining about the victory that secured the Mets hold on first place, but what is going on out there?

Is it the ghost of recently departed Donn Clendenon moving the ball so Elephante can't catch it? Or is it real angels out there trying to help our poor Met subs win some games?  (See the movie Angels in the Outfield with Tony Danza as the washed up rag arm starter and Danny Glover as a mixture of Johnny Bench and Frank Robinson, the hot tempered manager. Its always the bench players who get heavenly help) Just think, with all the injuries on the Mets and Yankees, if they both won their leagues  and played each other in October, we'd have to call it the Substitute Series, instead of the Subway Series.

Anyway, it does seem like there are angels in the outfield at Shea,

pretty aggressive ones, pushing Elephante over like that. Donn Clendenon,The Train, a great player for the 1969 Mets, passed away late in 2006. I happen to know that he was highly interested in metaphysics and other worldly stuff. Maybe he's out there, trying to give Shea Stadium one more World Series. That would be quite a ghost story.

 August 22nd, 2008

The Mets have won 14 out of their last 18, yeah, the Cubs do stuff like that. What makes this 2008 team so amazing is HOW they won those games. It almost seems like a sniffy, tear jerker war movie, so many of the big guys injured, and the little guys are carrying the whole team on their backs. That's why I say the Mets are doing it with "one hand tied behind their backs," but in fact there are about nine guys whose hands have been tied, enough to form a whole team, and an expensive team with a higher salary than the Florida Marlins.

Here's the numbers, and you won't believe it.

Pedro Martinez $11,813,315   injured from 4/2 to 6/3

Billy Wagner, $10,500,000  crippled since August 6th

Moises Alou $7,500,000  played from 5/2 to 5/22, then injured since June 6th,

Orlando Hernandez $7,000,000  injured since March 29th.

 Luis Castillo $6,250,000 injured since July 3rd.

Ryan Church $2,000,000 injured since June 29th.

Ramon Castro $1,975,000 injured from 3/21 to 5/9.

Marlon Anderson $1,050,000 injured  5/24 to 6/10 and then from 8/2 onward.

Duaner Sanchez  $850,000  injured from March to June 

John Maine $450,000 on DL from 8/3 to 8/13

Also remember that Brian Scheider ($4,900,000) has been playing with a sore thumb and has had to miss alot of games. Also injured is former post season star Trot Nixon, Angel Pagan, Jason Vargas, and, oh a couple others. 

So who's been winning all these games?
N/A salary guys like Nick Evans (one day in AAA)  Danny Murphy(no days in AAA), Argenis Reyes, and Eddie Kunz. Now we have Luis Ayala for a song, and he's going great.

Take note, Steinbrenners, money can't buy everything!

These expensively crippled Mets could form a lovely hospital courtyard team. I'd have Castro catching, Orlando Hernandez pitching, Anderson at short, Castillo at second,  Alou in right, Church in center, and Nixon in left. Maine would have to fill in at third and Martinez at first. Wagner and Sanchez would be the relievers. Talk about the high cost of hospital care... their total salaries add up to over $46,000,000!  Its an "amazing" team that can put $46M in talent on the bench--a whole team in fact-- and still win 14 of 18. 

So the Mets have a great farm system after all. As Steve Somers might say, "Who knew?"

 Our new Mr. Met Team Mascot

Houston, August 22nd,  2008

In a very quiet way, the Mets are getting the kind of victories they were known for in 2006, but with alot more humility, and a smaller Runs Margin Average as well. What is interesting is that they have won 14 of the last 18 without venture capitalists Alou,  Church,  Billy Wagner, Marlon Anderson or Luis Castillo. Instead we are getting amazing clutch hitting from "over the hill" activist and boycott specialist Delgado, a character who calls himself "Easily" as if taken right out of the pages of a Damon Runyan story, the anonymous Irish "tater" basher Danny Murphy, and someone else named Reyes who doubles for Jose (or doubles after Jose in some cases). Add to that list Tatis, Ayala, and a whole farm collective of catchers and relievers and you have the leaderless terrorist cell known as the 2008 New York Mets, and lately they have been terrorising the NL East. When pitching czar Willie Randolphski left to spend more time with his exiled family, the Mets became an autonomous collective, all for one, one for all, and every man for himself. Like true comrades at arms, they seek equality in all things, even changing positions in the batting order so that no player is "higher" than another for long. Jose Reyes is no longer called the "leadoff hitter" in the clubhouse, but first among equals, and now bats first and second simultaneously while playing short and second at the same time. Even Beltran does not always play cleanup any more, he can dispatch his janitorial duties further down the pecking order. And it might be in poor taste to say it, but these young warriors were attacking the Braves of Georgia about the same time as Putin was, and doing a much better job of it, and in a kinder, gentler way.

Sanatana pitched 7 scoreless innings on Friday, with help from Heilman and Ayala and the Mets blanked out the Houston Astros 3-0 in a game that possessed the soul of brevity, something that Tolstoy never got the jist of. The same has been said about me.

(Leo pitched 339 innings in one year for the Baikal Shamans, and walked only 163.)

Too many words, Leo!

Finally! The moment my six fans have been waiting for!

There have been several announcements here and elsewhere over the last year about the release of a book, written by me, sometimes called Flushing Fever, or other titles. It has been a long, slow process, but we at Amazine are happy to announce (just in time for the Mets' coronation as kings of the east side) the release of The Boys of Shea; the Incredible Story of the 2006 Mets, which should be available by Tuesday, August 25th on Amazon.com.  It is 250 big-size pages (8x10) paperback with a color cover. You can take a look at http:/www.createspace.com/3353411. I kept the price low, $12, just over margin. They will mail it to your home in a jiffy cause they're good at that. You can also buy it as a disc. Here's what the cover looks like.

 Glavine and Spahn Trade Off Stats as the Great Ghost Chase Comes to an End

Last year, in an Amazine article, I lamented for the lost Tommy Glavine, that he was only 17 strikeouts short of Warren Spahn's lifetime strikeout total. When I heard Glavine had defected to the Confederates of Atlanta after throwing a torch bomb on the final day of the 2007 season to defeat his own Mets army yelling "Semper Tyrranis!" thereby avenging the capture of Jefferson Davis and the scourge of Sherman's March through Atlanta in 64, I was not quite so sorry for him.

In any case, I wanted to follow up on that incomplete story, and update it now that both Glavine and Spahnny are out of baseball. Of course Glavine added 17 and more strikeouts this year without much trouble, but had such a bad year before claiming to be disabled veteran, that he lost his lifetime lead over Spahn in the ERA category.  We shall find time in our busy cheering schedules to lament for him after the Mets win the NL Eastern Division this year.

Here is the final statistical comparison of Glavine and Spahn. These stats should not change, unless Glavine returns to the majors or Spahn crawls from out of his grave and slouches off towards Turner Field to rise again, both scenarios somewhat unlikely.

Glavine pitched 22 years, Spahn 21.

Glavine had 2607 lifetime strikeouts, Spahn had 2583.

Glavine had 305 wins, Spahn had 363, but Glavine had only 203 losses to Spahn's 245

Glavine gave up 1734 earned runs, Spahn gave up 1798

Glavine gave up only 4298 hits, Spahn gave up 4830

Glavine raised his lifetime ERA to 3.54 that final year, Spahn's was 3.09.

Glavine gave up 1500 walks, Spahn gave up 1434

Glavine gave up only 356 homers lifetime, Spahn gave up 434.

Spahn was way ahead of Glavine in complete games (382 to 56) and shutouts (63 to 25), but that was a different era. Glavine pitched 4413.3 innings while Spahn pitched 5243.

Confidentially, (only to you and the thousand or so other who read this online) I am glad that Glavine found a way to pass Spahn  in lifetime strikeouts, but Glavine also blew out his lifetime ERA, and that is just as important. Quite a tradeoff, I'd say.

  Note the amazing resemblance between Tom Glavine (upper left) and William Tecumseh Sherman (right).

Is it true that Tom Glavine is the reincarnation of General Sherman, doomed to bring revenge upon the Union in the form of the New York Mets in recompense for his dirty deeds while burning Atlanta at the end of the Civil War? Only your Elvis channeler and the ghost of Warren Spahn know for sure.

OTHER STRIKE OUT NEWS

Bulletin!  Earlier this season, down in Atlanta, Glavine passed  Jerry Koosman (2556) Bob Feller (2581) and Warren Spahn (2583) to earn spot number 24 on the all time strikeout list with 2607,  but fell only 3 strikeouts short of Chuck Finley (2610) who is number 23 on that same said list.

Pedro Martinez is having a good year in the strikeout category; he and Curt Schilling and John Smoltz, all members of the 3,000 K frequent fireball club are running in a pack at 14, 15, and 16^th on the all time list. Smoltz has 3,011 Ks,  while Pedro (3085) is 31^st on the list at Cooperstown behind Schilling (3116) who is himself one strikeout away from tying the great Bob Gibson in strikeouts. It is very possible that Pedro and Curt will pass Gibson by the end of the year, especially in a pennant race (and Smoltz the following year, which would be his 20^th if he stays healthy). 

Pedro Martinez' lifetime ERA, by the way, was not much damaged last season when he pitched seldom but badly. His lifetime ERA is still a cool 2.86, same as Tom Seaver, and better than Bob Gibson (2.91). In the heat of a pennant race, will Pedro's ERA dip down some more?  Could he best Sandy Koufax (2.76) or even touch the hem of Cy Young's garment, whose lifetime ERA was 2.63?  Wait and see!

Yes it was my fault. I turned on the radio while driving, worrying that the Mets might lose their second in a row after their opening day win behind the Big Guy. Beltran hit a home run at the Marlins' stadium, above the yellow line. The announcer sounded very glad and sure it was a home run, but he said that Beltran remained at second base. They announced the score 6-0 but I began to worry; why is Beltran staying at second? Sure enough the umps reversed their decision, taking the home run away, making it 5-0. I turned the radio off for a little while to calm  my nerves and watch the road. What was that Socratic admonishment? Umpire, kill thyself? Why do these things always happen to my team? Worry worry worry. Then just over a half hour later I turned on the radio and the Mets were finishing off a 13-0 victory over the Marlins and even Church had a home run blast. They had scored more runs in those 30 or so minutes than they had in the entire game, with five runs in the sixth and one in the seventh. I guess my thought waves were affecting them in a  reverse way. Gotta fix that!

Talk about intangible stats! If I had the research grant I could publish a study on the number of Mets runs per hour scored while I was listending cheering, versus the number of mets runs per hour scored while I was pouting with the radio turned off. it would be a fascinating study for sure. Back in 2006, I felt that my cheering stats were clearly in the plus category, maybe two to one, but at the end of 2007, I had an off month, as many did I'm sure.

I failed to listen to many games during spring training, and now my cheering muscles are obviously rusty. I need to listen and cheer some local softball games and get back in shape in a venue that will not have major socio-economic impact on the baseball wretches who wander the streets of Queens and Brooklyn. Then I will return to my post next to my faithful Mets radio and then some day, when I feel buff and in shape, I will return to section 123 at Shea and do my incomparable magic, first evident during my Harry Potter like childhood in baseball, complete with a lightning bolt scar on my forehead that only appeared during Senators games when i was really concentrating for the Orioles batters to miss.

This weekend I was in Washington DC, practicing my cheering in advance on the Nationals, and tho I had to leave before the opening day pitch, I see that my Hogwarts Special Long Term Cheering Spell did the trick!  I promise I will get my Lets Go Mets Goblet of Good Fortune reloaded by the end of the weekend.

   Congrats to MLB for its new MLBlog look!

Amazine has a new look too, it will just take a while to become evident. After all, life is short, but baseball is long. (With or without Steve Trachsel!) As Red Sox fan and author Stephen King once wrote, "We're baaaaack!"

 It should be a fairly exciting World Series year for the reinvigorated Mets who are just coming back up to the surface from their own private post-disaster hells. Fortunately they found a bottle of smelling salts called Eau de Santana and are feeling fine.  Clearly they have either the best or the worst starting pitching in the Majors, depending on which way the wind of injury luck blows this year. If you want to know how great a season it will be in 08, DO NOT  I repeat DO NOT look at last year's stats for the pitchers. Some were trying to lull the opposition into a false sense of security. They will all have career years and the excitement of the post season will insure them all a PO Box in Cooperstown if not a plaque. Omar, if you are reading this (I know you're out there) PLEASE administer to some of these old guys some glutathione products, you know those undenatured powdered extracts filled with fresh thermolabiles! Yes, you know what I mean. We don't want injuries messing up our pipe dreams from the late sixties of pennant feverishness.

And if you need wins, no one will blame you for feeding on the now-feeble Cardinals, even in their own bird house by the river. Wins are where you find them.

Let's go Mets! And if you want a complete literary and humor filled account of the saga that was 2006, please let me know. I have an ebook for you.

Evan Pritchard

Blame It On the Rain: Mets Lose Game Seven of NLCS

Copyright c 2006 Evan Pritchard

The world ended with a whimper not a bang, as Carlos, lovely Carlos Beltran, stood there on the street corner, watching the curves go by. One, two, three, and the magnificent season of our great content, was over. I went into shock and had to be rushed to Metropolitan Hospital of the Mind, and pulled out of writers' block equivalent to an intellectual coma. That's why my posting is late, in case you were wondering.

Early the next day, I was taking a walk with a fellow baseball fan, talking about the series. “Where did we go wrong as Mets fans?” I implored. I kept asking that question out loud. “Oy Gevalt! (I’m not Jewish, but Shawn Green is, so it just sounds right). Why did we lose? We had the title in our hands and we let it slip. Yes, we lost no less than three veteran starters to injuries, which is like having three flat tires on the Major Deegan, yes, but in fact Darren Oliver, and Oliver Perez and John Maine all pitched better games than Pedro or Traschel were likely to pitch, and better perhaps than the game Glavine, the new Tom Terrific, himself threw in game six.”

Then it started to sprinkle. I said the Mets personal angels are starting to cry. I know how they feel.

“Maybe the rain made that curve ball curve more wildly due to atmospheric conditions. You know that when its really dry at Coors Field in Denver, the ball doesn’t curve. It just sits there. Maybe this was the opposite. The ball curved too much. Maybe that’s why Beltran didn’t swing with the bases loaded. It didn’t look like a strike coming in.”

As we walked along the path, that same rain storm that made that curve ball go crazy finally reached us, and a great wind blew from the south, and all the yellow and red leaves darted across our view in a great shower of confetti color. I said, “There, look at that. Its’ the ticker tape parade the 2006 Mets will never have!”

One score and zero years ago, our nine fathers set forth upon a ballfield to win a game. It was the 1986 playoffs, and they won, they got scrappy and kept going, and everyone remembers what they accomplished there. And they went on to win the World Series for God and country. And a great ticker tape parade was staged to honor the heroes. Now all we have is falling leaves, blowing across our path, looking for a place to die with dignity.

What went wrong this time? Is it something we said? Did I walk on that crack in the sidewalk? Did I brush the wrong way? I left my bright blue Mets ballcap lying on the table in front of me the whole game, which I can assure you usually makes them win. I did my job. Something went wrong. Maybe I should have had the embroidered NY pointing towards me. Or maybe towards the TV. The TV guide did cover it over for a while, but I moved it right away. What did we do?

Triumph is a little TRY and a lot of UMPH. The 1986 Mets didn’t just try, they also had a lot of umph, the Cardinals didn’t just try, they had a lot of UMPH too. I guess you have to look at David Wright. He certainly tried, but where was that usual UMPH? He got a single and a force and struck out in the 8th. That’s a .333 batting average! Green had an unimpressive seventh game, and I don’t care if Pujols says it. I agree. I love to watch Valentin play, he had UMPH on the field, but try as he might, he could not stay on base. I heard that Heilman stood up to the firing squad, puffed once on a cigarette and took the blame. What a guy! But it was only one bad pitch. Just like Branca. Now the bloodthirsty birds are singing Jose Jose. Our song. Our city has been sacked by barbarians, who don’t understand the Zen of Game. Heartless Champions from the heart of the Midwest. You know what? The Cards are not even from New York! What do they know about triumph?

I predicted this possibility in my now-prophetic article, METS AMAZINGLY SIMILAR TO 1951 BROOKLYN DODGERS, but I didn’t really think it would happen. A freak home run in the ninth by the usual 8th spot batter, not a big home run hitter, A. Somebody Molina, to break a tie. It was just like Bobby Thompson, the weak bat good glove 8th spot batter for the Giants, who hit a freak homer in the 9th to take the pennant away from the 1951 Dodgers, one of the greatest teams in baseball history. They got over-confident. I wrote and posted that article so that a Mets player would accidentally read it and remember to tell his teammates not to get overconfident.

Were they overconfident? Not with three injured starters. But on the other hand, the way Perez was going, perhaps they did get overconfident. To me, when half the lineup hits routine fly balls trying to get a home run and not getting close, that’s overconfidence. Leaving the bases loaded twice in late innings, that’s not will power and determination. That’s not placing the ball, that’s not hit and run or bunting to get on. That’s not thinking, that’s just boring.

Here’s the play by play for game seven, in all its gloriously painful and gory detail. Maybe you will see the overconfidence. I don’t know. The fact is, someone has to win and someone has to lose. We hold these truths to be self-evident: there are no ties in baseball.

THE SEVENTH GAME AT THE END OF TIME

The crowd was so boisterous at Shea Stadium that neither team could hear themselves think, and couldn’t hear each other call their neighbor off the ball. In baseball, good acoustics make good neighbors. The wind was wild and doing tricks with the pop-ups, so right away it looked like another collision would take place. But they managed to avoid the Head-Bangers’ Ball this time, perhaps at a great cost.

Eckstien started with a popup to center, we could see the wind coming in by the way Beltran wandered uncertainly. He nabbed it, a last minute flash of the glove to cover for his shaky location. Perez struck out Wilson and it looked like maybe our gleeful songs of “Oliver, Oliver, consider yourself one of us” had given him some confidence after all. Then one ghastly error made our hearts stand still, as Delgado made a rare gaff on a pop up that started over first then ended up in front of home plate. He dropped it right out of his glove, and Pujols (Pronounced poo-holz, as in The Cards can stick it up their Pujols) got to second without having impressed anyone. Sorry, do you hear some sour grapes being mashed in the background? Yeah, that’s me. I’m making vintage memories from the grapes of wrath that are piled up here in my storehouse. Glory Halellujah, but my Mets truth is marching on, how about yours? Encarnacion, not exactly a born-again clean up hitter, flied to right to end the so-called threat. It seemed like Green’s hat blew off every time he ran for the ball. I guess we can’t say he had a big head.

Then the Mets came up, more applause, thank you very much. Reyes grounded to short, LoDuca grounded to third, and then Beltran got a double to left. Delgado walked to fill in first base, and after such a strong series, why not walk him? Then Wright hit a clutch RBI single to right. Beltran came roaring around third like the little train that could, and with the throw coming in on target to home plate, he made the most amazing slide, and touched the corner of the plate with one finger at the end of a long extended arm as he slid by, totally out of range of the tag, but clearly a run, the first run, first blood. Lucky it wasn’t his middle finger, but it did produce a similar sense of satisfaction as regards our collective Mets feelings for the Cardinals. Green ended the frame with a line drive. 1 to 0 Mets.

Top of the second, Edmonds started things off with a single just past the dashing short stop in left. Then Rolen, the amazing elderly cripple, flied to center. Then Molina popped a fly to left that dropped in for a Texas Leaguer. Belliard made a sac bunt in a safety squeeze and Edmonds scored to tie the game and Suppan struck out to end it. 1-1.

Now again, we Meet the Mets, but they go down one-two-three with two routine fly balls and a grounder to first. Where’s the umph I say? And not the one behind home plate.

Top of the third, and Eckstien singled, Wilson made an out, but Pujols walked, and two were on where none were before, but Encarnacion ended the threat with a 6-4-3 double play. Bottom of the third, and we expect big things from the top of our order, but the Great Disappointment is foreshadowed; Reyes, LoDuca and Beltran all out quickly. No umph here either.

Top of the fourth, Edmonds, Rolen and Molina all skied out harmlessly against the increasingly impressive Perez. It started to rain. Bottom of the fourth, Delgado walked, Wright hit into a force, Suppan got his first strikeout of the game out of Green, who was hired to play in this game above all other games and was not delivering us to the promised land, or even Corona Park, and then Suppan hit Valentin with a pitch to put two on. It was a veiled threat. But Chavez flied a routine fly to left to end it.

Top of the fifth, Eckstine Belliard hit a single to left, then Suppan made a nice sac bunt back to the pitcher’s mound, then Eckstine was hit by a pitch, to put two on, then Wilson wiffed, then Pujols popped out like a fool. Bottom of the fifth, Perez flied lazily to left, Reyes flied lazily to center, and LoDuca made a routine fly to center. Where is all this chutzpah, this dynamic energy we are supposed to see from the Mets? They looked like a Weight-loss League men’s Sunday morning softball team—women’s softball is much more bloodthirsty! (Where do you think Bradford learned to be so competitive? He went in drag and infiltrated girls fast pitch teams to sharpen his major league fangs)

Top of the sixth, by far the most exciting moment of the game, and perhaps the series, arrives. Encarnacion grounds to third, then Edmonds walks. At this point, Willie Randolph senses Perez’ Energizer Bunny Batteries have run down, and comes out to talk. He does not take him out, but lets him fact the dangerous cripple Scott Rolen. A homer would put the Cards ahead by two. On the very next pitch, Scott Rolen hits a long fly ball to left. Even though it was starting to rain a bit harder, the ball takes wing and keeps on going. Chavez goes back, back, to the wall. Its OUTTA HERE….but…no, Chavez leaps up in the air like a Detroit Pistons center and lifts his glove far above the ten foot wall, and snags the ball from the abyss. His back bangs against the wall, the glove bangs and flips backwards then forwards on the top of the fence as it comes down, but the horsehide snow cone that represents at this point a possible several million dollars in World Series income and residuals fails to become dislodged as Chavez is back down to earth and once again becomes mortal.
He looks up right away and alertly notices Edmonds making his home run trot past second, and fires a crisp one-bounce strike to first base to double up the Cards. Edmonds is out by a mile. Instead of two runs, its two more outs. End of the inning. You should have seen the look on Perez’ face. He looked truly amazed, and humbled, like he’d seen an angel save his life! Endy the Angel. The Mets have plucked a Cardinals’ feather from out of the air and placed it in their cap. In between the halves of the inning, Chavez took a bow, tipped his cap, or waved to the crowd.
The feather in his cap wasn’t showing, but it didn’t need to. No one will ever forget that play. And I’m sure we’ll see it a million times. I hope the Cards are watching. Of course, Willie looked like a genius for keeping Perez in the game. He knew Chavez would catch it.....it was that Flubber experiment the Mets had taken part in. It HAD to work!

Then we come to the bottom of the sixth. Still tied 1-1. Beltran grounds back to the pitcher, but Delgado gets on with a walk, then Rolen, still ticked off by having a home run surgically removed from his statbook, throws an airball to first that ends up going far away bye bye after making a nice scoop on a grounder by Wright. Green gets the intentional pass to load ‘em up with only one out. In retro, and 20-20, this was the Mets best and brightest chance to lock up the series. Any team that really wanted to win, that really refused to lose, would have found a way to score runs at this moment; by hook or crook. The homer stolen from Rolen, and then his big embarrassing and humiliating error. You have to make them pay for stuff like that. Rub it in thy neighbor's face before he rubs it in yours. Remember that La Russa was a lawyer, probably an ambulance chaser. Valentino, the man of destiny was at the plate, and yet somehow he strikes out. But wait, there’s Chavez. In the smokey back-lot plot room of baseball, surely they had planned this. Chavez Hits Slam After Stealing Homer From Rolen, the headlines will say. That will sell papers! That would win the series. But no, Chavez hits a routine fly to center and its bedtime for Bonzo, at least for now. We should have known then, perhaps its overconfidence.

Top of the seventh, and Willie starts to thinking, worrying, “That was close out there! I’ve got to take this guy out.” He brought in Chad Bradford, the only man in baseball history to rub dirt on the ball while throwing it. Molina flied to left, harmlessly this time at least, then Belliard grounded to second then Suppan grounded to short. Bottom of the seventh, Tucker hit a routine fly to center, then Reyes a routine ground ball to first, then LoDuca a routine ground ball to short. Do you see a pattern here? The problem is, this is not a routine game. This is the biggest game in five years as far as the Mets are concerned.

Top of the eighth, Heilman came in to pitch as expected. Eckstein out, and Spiezio came in for Wilson but struck out, whiff! Pujols got an intentional walk but then Heilman got Encarnacion to strike out, and Heilman had that dispassioned baby-faced killer look on his face, and so Willie kept him in for the ninth. Hmmm….
Bottom of the eighth, Beltran walked, Delgado and Wright both struck out, then the big Green machine who on this day couldn’t shoot a pickle in a pickle barrel, grounded to first.

Top of the ninth, and Heilman came in to pitch a second inning, even though the bull pen was roaring and snuffing with hooved and stamping talent, some of it named Wagner. Edmonds struck out, but Scott Rolen singled to left. We all thought, “Oh, no, Heilman’s lost his stuff!” Yadier Molina, the Cardinals’ equivalent of Bobby Thompson, batting a rare seventh, came in to swing his bat. Surely Aaron can get him out. The runt of the litter. Heilman delivered one bad pitch, and Molina hit that freak homer to left that rain and the twisting winds of fate could not stop. It just kept rising up in the air and sailed over that blue fence in left like a bad dream. You know that drowning dream you used to have? The dream where you’re lost in the forest and it keeps raining? The dream where you go over the waterfall in a canoe and there's no bottom? That was it. Belliard and the pinch hitter grounded out, but it didn’t matter. The gun had misfired, Heilman didn’t know it was loaded. The dead body lay on the carpet. The police heard the shot and stopped by. There was no hiding it.

Bottom of the ninth, surely the Mets could get two runs. Someone named Adam Wainwright came in to pitch for St. Louis. Not even a closer. Valentin made up for his shrinking violet imitation in the sixth when he wilted with the bases loaded and the hot lights shining on him and got a lead off single to right this time. Chavez followed with another single to right, two on no out. It was a dramatic moment all right, but the Mets needed to continue to play small ball. The Cards had a two run lead and they were bearing down, getting serious, getting tough. Instead of getting tough and playing small ball, Willie went for the big wide-screen cinematic thrill. He sent in Cliff Floyd, our version of Kirk Gibson, to hobble in on one leg and hit a home run to send everyone home happy. It was a great idea, but that only works in movies. Willie later said he did NOT want a home run, just some clutch hitting. But Cliff Floyd could not resist the Kirk Gibson thing, swung big, swung for the fences, and struck out, and it didn’t take long. LaRussa is not romantic about such things, and had yelled at the players before the game. Wainwright was getting tougher and tougher out there. Then Reyes came up, mister clutch, but the curve of the ball seemed wild, and yet always landed over the plate. He made a routine fly to center. Not his forte, that. Now instead of no outs there were two. Lo Duca looked pretty tense, not very happy. By this time it was really pouring and the ball seemed to be all over the place. The mud was getting pretty deep. Somehow he hung in there and fouled off a lot and got his walk, just as good as a hit in this case, to load the bases for the Mickey Mantle of the Mets Carlos Beltran.

Shea Stadium looked like Mudville, but there was still plenty of joy. The Mets had been lucky all season, everything went their way. Maybe there would be joy in Metville after all. What more could you ask for than to have Mighty Mouse Beltran, Casey Beltran come to the plate with two outs and the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth in the seventh game of the NLCS? Well, you couldn’t. He was the Cardinal Killer, he was the monster of the LCS, Mister October II. The Ricky Ricardo of Ribbies.
For a moment it all became clear, we’d found our storybook ending to a storybook year. He’d hit a granny and all the chickens would come home and we’d have our come from behind walk off win, Beltran would make some kind of NLCS home run record, and a boost into the Series against the Tigers. It will be the play that little boys all over America will be narrating in their play-by-plays as they bounce the ball against the steps all alone in a big field. “Beltran at the plate, seventh game of the series, bases loaded, two out, bottom of the ninth…
Here’s the pitch! And its OUTTA HERE!"

Think how Shea stadium would go wild! Would he even get to second base with all the jumping and slapping and hugging? I don’t think so. It would be another grand slam single, this time to clinch the whole thing. A National League pennant like no other. The Team the Time......the Tension was Killing ME!!

But something went wrong. Suddenly a bad feeling came over me. I felt tense, sick. He didn’t look confident. He looked out of focus. Our Heaven on the Number Seven suddenly became a cold, watery Metropolitan ****. The pitches from Wainwright came in, curving and darting in crazy ways not seen before at Shea, and Beltran just stood there. He didn’t even protect the plate. He just looked and looked and looked, like he’d been injected with a poison dart from a blowgun and it was slowly taking effect. I thought he was going to cry, but he didn’t. He just stood there in the drenching rain like a rejected lover. Strike one, strike two, strike three. Sit down. Go home. Go away.

The Mets fans in the stands were as devastated as I was, only more visibly. I was so glad I hadn’t bought one of those tickets after all, $300 to have an unforgettably bad experience in the farthest reaches of the upper deck watching helpless little ants get washed down a flood drain in a rain storm.

But that’s just more sour grapes. After all, it was a great game, between two well-matched teams, and someone had to win and someone had to lose.

Say to yourself, over and over……there are no ties in baseball. There are no ties in baseball. There are no ties…….

Mets Get Jammed Up on Righty Jeff Weaver’s Curve and Lose Game 5 of NLCS
Copyright c 2006 Evan Pritchard

You’d think the Mets could beat the Cardinals with Tom Glavine on the mound versus Jeff Weaver, a righty who was kicked off the Angels earlier this year to make room for his kid brother Jerred. But they couldn’t. Instead they lost a big one 4-2, in a sea of pop-ups and fly balls. They got under it, and all we can do as Mets fans is get over it.

The Mets started off the first in a good way with two singles, and threatened but could not score, ending the frame with two left, with Wright striking out. Glavine gave up a lead off single to Eckstine but made Wilson and Pujols pop out and got Encarnacion to ground back to the pitcher.

In the second, Valentin popped out to center after Green grounded out. Chavez doubled and again the Mets threatened but did not score as Glavine failed to help his own cause at the plate. In the bottom of the inning, the Cards got Roland to first with a single, but after Edmonds struck out, Belliard got into a strike-em-out-throw-em-out double play as LoDuca nabbed Roland trying to steal second.

In the third, Reyes popped out to short, and LoDuca and Beltran flied to center. Weaver was jamming them inside for the most part, and getting them to swing under the ball and make easy outs. Glavine was doing the opposite at least at first, and in the bottom of the inning got three ground balls.

In the top of the fourth there was a bag delay as the field technicians tried to stick the NLCS first base bag stem into its hole to no avail. A regular bag was found and it worked perfectly. That delay rattled Weaver just a bit. Delgado walked then Wright popped to left. Green got a ground rule double to right, as a fan touched the ball, saving a run. But then Valentin doubled near the same spot and drove in two. The next two batters grounded out to end the inning. In the bottom of the fourth, Wilson flied to center, then as Glavine was pitching to his worst critic, Pujols, I sensed that Glavine was thinking about those insulting comments Pujols made about him earlier, and sure enough, Glavine spoon fed him a big fat pitch, and Pujols pounded it to left for a home run. Although the Mets still held the lead, that was the turning point of the game. From there, Glavine was humiliated, and everything got worse.

Encarnacion walked and Edmonds and Belliard both singled to right, scoring Encarnacion. Molina walked to reload the bases, but then Weaver failed to help his own cause as Glavine did earlier. It was 2-2.

Top of the fifth, Reyes again got under it, for a fly to center. LoDuca singled to right, then Beltran got a rare line drive that was caught in right, but Delgado popped to third base to end the inning. In the Cardinal half, Eckstein led off with a single, then Wilson doubled. Glavine was looking uncharacteristically beaten, and Randolph came out to see how he was doing. Badly! He told him to walk Pujols and take his time about it. It was Pujols, so I believe, that had shaken him up, rattled his cage. 16 consecutive scoreless innings, (not that Pujols was impressed) and now this! Encarnation came up with bases loaded, the pond full of Cardinals as it were. He singled to right and scored Eckstein. Bases loaded no outs. Roland struck out and then Pedro Feliciano got Edmonds to blast a ground ball to the deft-fingered Delgado who grabbed it barehanded and threw to the plate for a force play, one of the more inspired moments in the game. What swift reflexes, both mentally and physically! Belliard flied to left to end the inning.

Top of the sixth, the Mets behind 3-2, Wright flied out, Green grounded out, Valentin walked, and Chavez grounded to second, a disappointing inning. Weaver was using more tricks and getting ground balls as well as pop ups. Molina was out, so Duncan, the son of the team pitching coach Dave Duncan, came up to pinch hit for Jeff Weaver and hit a home run to put the Cards ahead 4-2 and the final score. Eckstine and Wilson went out quickly. Weaver had pitched six innings on only 95 pitches, many of them 91 mph.

Top of the seventh, Tucker pinch hit for Glavine facing Josh Kenney, and struck out. Reyes struck out too, and then LoDuca grounded to second. Kenney looked dominant and the Mets looked beat. Bottom of the frame, the Cards got two walks and a wild pitch off of Willie’s secret Ace in the Hole, Roberto Hernandez, who was throwing smoke, at 95 or better, and they threatened but failed to score.

In the eighth, Delgado got a one out single, followed by (at last!) a double from Wright into left, (who likes the movie Braveheart, so we learned on Fox TV) and then Flores was brought in to pitch to Green who flied to center. Wainwright came in to pitch to Valentin and got a strike out. Much ado about not much? Or brilliant strategy by the manager? Mota came in for the bottom of the eighth and got Molina on a ground ball to short, but then Miles, pinch hitting for Wainwright, got a triple. He was stranded when Eckstien popped to second and Wilson grounded to short.

The Mets went down easily in the ninth with two ground outs and then a strikeout by Reyes. Reyes had earned twice the walks in 2006 as ’05, but tonight he was unable to walk at all in five at-bats. One of the main factors in the game had to be the crazy strike zone, which kept changing on every throw. It hurt both pitching staves, but more clearly the Mets. There were pitches called strikes that were way outside or inside the zone. And then again some balls right over the plate that were called balls. I think that shook Glavine up as well as the batters. It was a tough night for people from Queens. The Mets went behind 3 games to 2. In fact, teams that go behind 3-2, win the League Championship Series more often than the opponent.

We Knew He Could Do It! Premier Mets Starter Oliver Perez (who?) Mows Down MVPs, All Stars and Hot Hitters in His Usual Fashion (Until He Had an 11 to 3 Lead, and Then Felt Merciful in his Omnipotence) Oliver, Consider Yourself One of Us!

Copyright c 2006 Evan Pritchard

With their backs up against the new brick wall at Cardinal Stadium, of sorts, the Mets turned to their new pitching ace Oliver Perez (1-3 with the Mets since purchased for $5 from Pittsburgh after Dwayner Sanchez got injured) and he came through with a show-stopping performance just as we all knew he would. He tap-danced on the graves of the immortal Cardinals Dizzy and Dazzy Dean, Stan Musial and Frankie Frisch, and his curve ball danced its way into our Metfilled hearts as well as we sang, “Consider yourself…at home…consider yourself..part of the family…”

In fact, he is so famous that the morning of his start in St. Louis, Newsday, a hometown paper, mixed him up with another Mets’ Oliver, Darren Oliver, a reliever, and gave Oliver Perez credit for Darren Oliver’s gutsy performance the night before, when he pitched five scoreless innings out of the pen. That must have inspired Oliver P. to do the same, or a close approximation, to confuse Newsday even more. The Mets have certainly had good luck these last two days with people named Oliver.
What an ironic TWIST after all the times we thought about sending both of these Dickenzian characters to the poor house for their poor performances in games past.

They should have turned Sunday’s game into a musical, with Reyes dancing around, doing the Makarena on the bases, Wright full of high fives and body jive, and Delgado practically sinking the riverboats past the outfield stands in his jubilation over being in the post-season. Beltran the Papgeno-like Cardinal Hunter, bagging two different Cardinal pitchers, was singing Salsa, and Valentin was doing Balanchine leaps at second base to snag popups that were over his head. LoDuca declined to sing a baritone aria from Verdi, but he has my standing invitation to try. That hit and run duo in two part counterpoint with Reyes in the 6th was the most perfectly tuned of any of their duets this year, and it sparked a cavalcade of song called Meet Me In St. Louiee!! Or maybe we should have just called it OLIVER!!!

A Play By Play of OLIVER!! the New Musical By Willie Randolph

The first inning, the Mets threatened but did not score. Reyes facing Reyes struck out. Beltran got a walk and Delgado got on base too, but Wright flied out to center to end the inning. In the bottom of the first, Oliver Perez came out and blew his no hitter with practically the first pitch to Eckstein, then survived an amazing error, in which Wright leaped horizontally and got the glove on the ball which deflected it to Reyes, who threw to first at the top of his pirouette, and on target, only to be dropped out of Delgado’s glove for an error. I think that Reyes’ move was above and beyond the call of duty and should erase the error somehow, since it should have gone past Wright for a hit anyway. Perez ended the inning by making Encarnation ground out to Valentin.

In the second, the Mets threatened again, with a single by Chavez to left and a walk to hero Oliver Perez, but could not score as Reyes popped to short.

The Cards went ahead in the bottom of the second 1-0 with singles by Rolen, Belliard and Molina, but when pitcher Reyes grounded to first, Molina was thrown out at third to end the inning.

In the third, LoDuca grounded out but then Beltran followed with his 6th Cardinal Killing homer of his post-season career, that just made it over the left field stands to tie the score. It was the first Met run in 14 consecutive innings. Not that we’re braggin’. Delgado tried for the same but just made a long fly to center. Then Wright, who was O for Everything (O for Oliver?) hit a longer home run to put the Mets ahead 2-1. The Mets had come back to life. Green struck out to end the inning.

In the bottom of the third, Perez got Eckstein out then gave up a walk to Spiezio. Pujols lined to Jose Reyes, who caught the line drive and then placed it on the ground and threw to get Speizio at second to start a brilliant double play, but it was not to be. The humorless stick-in-the-mud umpires didn’t like the looks of that and claimed that he never dropped the line drive, but only pretended to. How can you trust a man who stole 64 bases in one year and never paid for them? The umpire’s decision cost the Mets as Encarnation followed with a triple, scoring Speizio to make it 2-2. Rolen flied to center to end the inning.

The Mets got a walk from leadoff man, Valentin, but did not threaten in the fourth. In the bottom of the inning, Perez got Edmonds out on a long fly to left, but then Belliard got a single to center that dropped in, then he stole second on a close play. Molina hit a scorching ground ball in the hole on the shortstop side of second, as Reyes was shifted to the left, but Valentin came out of nowhere and leaped into the shortstop hole and threw off balance a perfect strike to Delgado for the second out. Is that 4-3 or 6-3? Hard to say. Valentin should get triple-time pay this year for playing understudy to the right fielder, the shortstop, and the first baseman, and of course, for playing second. Then pitcher Reyes struck out.

In the top of the fifth, LoDuca grounded to short but the shortstop blew the play, and Mets fans said, “Woe be unto those teams who allow the leadoff Mets runner a free base on an error.” The win-hungry Mets fans smelled bird blood and went in for the kill. Beltran then singled to right, and then Delgado did what we were screaming at the TV for him to do, he bashed a three run homer, and the Mets went out ahead 5-2. The Mets like to rally after big homers, and score one more for a little denouement. Green got a single to right after Wright’s K, which knocked out Reyes, and Valentin singled to center off Hancock the new reliever. Chavez grounded into a force at second, and then Perez batted for himself and struck out. That at-bat ended the rally and messed up the denouement, but it was a big vote of confidence for Perez, who would live to pitch again, so to speak. I think if Chavez had gotten a walk, he would have been yanked for Ol Man River, Julio Franco, but that’s just my opinion. Willie’s always right.

In the bottom of the fifth, the resurrected Perez came out and gave up a home run to Eckstien on a pitch with lots of heat, but right in the blast zone, and it went a mile. Perez then calmed down and struck out Spiezio and Pujols with some of the best pitching of his career, and got Encarnation on an easy fly to center. It was 5-3, but Perez was doing what we suggested would be strongly advisable, as I posted in the previous article, pitch the game of his life. In fact, the Fox announcer on TV said, “He may be pitching the game of his life!” He must have read my Valley Forge article. It really was, and he gave us give five great innings, the last of which, in spite of the homer, was fantastic. In 20-20 hindsight, Willie Randolph should have pulled him then, just for the poetic beauty of that last inning, but what happened next was much more fun and exciting, and makes us glad to be alive as Mets fans in October, as opposed to those other fans in New York who have to wait for next year.

Because Randolph let Perez bat in the bottom of the fifth to end the inning, we got to start off the sixth with the top of the lineup as if it were a whole new ballgame, and the fireworks went off from Valley Forge on the Mississippi in a big way. It was a long time before there were any outs on the board this time. Reyes singled to right, and then went to third on a hit and run single by LoDuca through the shortstop-third base hole after a lot of foul balls, and all executed perfectly. Beltran walked, and then Delgado came up with the bases loaded. He looked like he was ready to hit the grand slam of his life, he had that look in his eyes, the way Piazza used to look before hitting it out of the park, but the ball fell short of the fence and bounced out of the park as a ground rule double instead. Make it 7-3. Then Wright walked to load them up again. Johnson came in to relieve, but did not get an out right away either. He game up a single to center to Green to score another one to make it 8-3. Then Valentin, who had been 2 for 19 came through with a big single to clear the bases and earn three big rbis, to make it 11-3, still with no outs. Then Johnson got serious and struck out Chavez and Perez, the latter still getting the vote of confidence to swing, and then got Reyes out on a fly to center in his second appearance of the inning.

Oliver Perez, having already batted four times, striking out three times, got to pitch in the bottom of the sixth with an 11-3 lead. Obviously, Randolph was thinking “This guy can save our bullpen for when the exhausted old-timer Tom Glavine starts tomorrow on three days rest. I don’t care how bad he is. We have an 8 run lead.” But Perez was pretty bad in the sixth and Randolph was quick to drop that idea. Oliver Perez got All Star Scott Rolen to fly out but then came apart with homers to Edmonds and Molina to make it 11-5. Was he being merciful? Or was he tired after all that hitting? Randolph said “Heck with resting the bullpen. This guy is fried.” And moving right along, folks, he put in Chad Bradford, the only pitcher in major league history to rub dirt on the ball WHILE HE IS THROWING IT! Bradford quickly ended the inning with a grounder to 2nd.

Beltran the Cardinal Killer wasn’t through yet, and hit a solo shot in the seventh, his second of the day and seventh post-season blast against the Cards, and that was the final score, 12-5. Los Dos Carlos had an all-time RBI day, so many we lost count. We got our 5 and two thirds from Oliver Perez, and some of it wasn’t pretty, but the worst of it didn’t matter anyway. The Mets had a new premiere starter. Who knew? Before the game it was announced that Perez had the worst ERA of any post-season starter in major league history, and that the other Reyes was second. You knew right then there were going to be fireworks. And there were, and it was great. The Mets and Cards and now 2 and 2 on the series, and meet again in St. Louis this evening to sing and dance around the base-paths like Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney in times gone by. But Mets fans in the mean time will be singing Oliver! Oliver! Consider yourself at home! Consider yourself…part of the family…its clear..we’re..going to get along…consider yourself…one of us!

And they’d better learn to like him, because he might just have to pitch the seventh game at Shea, with all the Cards on the table.

We're begging you, Oliver, please pitch well the rest of the post-season!