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I don't waffle...

Me during the game:

"Reyes, you suck!"
"Matsui, you suck!"
"Beltran, you suck!"
"Delgado, you suck!"
"Wright, you suck!"
"Floyd, you really suck!"
"Nady, you suck!"
"Fidel, you suck!"
"Pedro, you suck!"
"Franco, you suck!"
"Sanchez, you suck!"
"Wagner, you suck! Fuck you! Looper sucks!"
"Valentin, you suck!"
"Julio, you suck!"
"Andy Phillips! Andy goddamn Phillips!"

and that's the way it was.

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It Was Inevitable

Billy Wagner you beautiful sonofabitch. God Bless you. Things looked bleak that's for sure. Pedro was dominating, Moose was good, but underwhelming. They did everything they were supposed to do. They were carrying a four run lead into the ninth.

Enter Sandman.
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No. not the real Sandman per se, just some poor, foolish, lost impostor.

The caps went inside out. Giambi single. A-Rod walk. Robby knocks J-Giam in. 4-1. Miggy comes up. Harmless fly ball. Melky walks. He's been everything we needed him to be. Wags is self-imploding. A Kelly GS wins it. I giggle at the notion. Stinnett walks. 4-2. Bernie in for Villone. He's hit. Billy is dazed and confused. 4-3. In comes the Idiot. Wags is pulled. What a beautiful moment. Priceless. In Feliciano. Ground ball. NO JOHNNY! NO! He beats it out. JOHNNY HUSTLE! Tie ball game.

Enter Rivi in the 10th. He's flawless, making Carlos1 look like an 119 million dollar fool.

11th. Cairo walks, advances to second on a Melky SO. Just when you realize that Phillips coming up to bat is ending a Miguel Cairo, Melky Cabrera, Kelly Stinnett, Andy Phillips cycle, a single. Cairo scores. Ball game over. If Sandman can lock it down in the 11th. Oh no! Big bad middle class values David Wright. Sit down swinging. Clifford/Cornelius Floyd. Slumping, but hit one yard earlier in the game. Sit down swinging. And Nady, who Schuyla' affectionately refers to as the X-man. Sit down swinging. You lose, good day sir. It's a good day for the human species.

Don't Mets fans understand? It doesn't matter how talented your team is. It is inevitable that games like this will happen. In fact, as we get to the end of July, they're gonna be happening very, very frequently.
Wagner is a bust. Either support the bust or boo him. Do one or the other. You make Yankee fans look subjective. Oh, and don't come in here with this real Sandman bullshit like you supported him the whole time. How many saves as he blown? 3? 4? And you booed him every time, didn't you? That 2 ERA is deceiving, and he will never be the Sandman.
Mariano Rivera is the most dominating pitcher in baseball and has been for the last decade. He has quite possibly the best cutter ever. And until last year, when Mariano Rivera stepped on the mound, the game was over. Billy Wagner. Well... he's been good on a bunch of underachieving teams for a while now. Where's the comparison? I sure can't find it.
There is some sort of otherworldly force at work here. This is not the Mets' year. As plausible as a championship may sound, this team is old and rickety in its foundations. You still have no real pitching outside of Pedro and Glavine, who will cool off. And when the you get dispatched in the 1st round, I'll be there. Making sure that you know that I told you so.

Viva Los Yankees!

P.S. It's good to be king.

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Dancing on My Neighbor's Grave

When Dyslexia and I started this blog, this was the kind of game we I was looking for. I knew the Mets were better than the Yankees. I know who the real Sandman is. I know who the best catcher in New York is.

And after Billy Wagner wiped out the Yankees in order with three filthy strikeouts, this became one of those games that you just wouldn't lose. Sure, this supposedly great closer Mariano Rivera can get two outs, but what happens when you need three? And you have to face the Duck? Yeah, right. Go ahead, walk someone in front of David Wright. It worked all the time last year when people walked Cliff Floyd to face the young slugger.

Despite their struggles in the clutch, tonight further cemented the importance of Xnady and Beltran to this offense. This combination of hitters, both of whom were surrounded by low expectations this year, have combined to drive in 50 runs. They're both on a pace close to driving in 100 runs.

And after last night, I am overjoyed. I can laugh at my fellow blogger who just undyingly supports his team. He would take a bullet for Rivera. Except he didn't last night.

The Mets will win another today, in a fun pitching duel. Only because, "Pedro Martinez will strike you out!"

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The Main Event

The Crosstown crew is excited.

We've been waiting nearly two months since the start of the season for this to come.

And finally it has.

The showdown between Mets and Yankees, Yankees and Mets.

This time it's at Shea, with Pedro, Glavine and Victori Gonzalez taking the hill.

A few notes in lieu of a series preview:
  • WPIX (The dubba-dubba-dubba-you WB) has a special on at 6:30 PM. Their season preview earlier this year was top-notch, so I'm expecting something just as good tonight.

  • I will feature a Crosstown Rivals Day at the Ballpark for one of these games. Fun, eh?

  • We know the Yankees. We know the Mets.

    Let's play some baseball.

    Pick: Mets take two out of three. Lose a nailbiter with a bullpen meltdown on Sunday night (Weren't there Sunday bullpen meltdowns in both Mets-Yanks series last year?)

    Sorry for my fluffy posting schedule as of late. Lots of business to take care of and Crosstown Rivals fell to the bottom of the to do list. Expect a far more regular schedule by mid-June.

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    Slick Rick and Tom Terrfiic

    The Tom Glavine Renaissance experienced yet another phase on Tuesday night, as the veteran lefty vanquished the St. Louis Cardinals, pitching six innings for the win. All of this was due to what happened on June 19, 2005.
    Tom Glavine faces the Seattle Mariners on the road. The lefty gets shellacked to the tune of 6 ER in 2 1/3 innings. He comes in to talk about the loss with Pedro.

    "Dr. Pedro, why can't I pitch well?"
    "Tom, I don't know. Why don't you ask DeJean?"

    "Mighty Mike, why can't I pitch well?"
    "Go see Zambrano."

    "¿Hola, Victor, why can't I pitch well?"
    "No lo siento. Throw more pitches that are out of the strike zone maybe? Hit some more batters?"
    "I'm good, thanks."
    "Dios mio. Go talk to Ishii."

    "Kaz, I need to ask you a question. Why can't I pitch well?"
    "I don't really know. Maybe you should throw more balloon-like curves."
    "I don't have a good curve!"
    "Well then go ask Heilman!"

    "Aaron, why can't I pitch well?"
    "Tom, you're a likely hall of famer and I'm Aaron Heilman."
    "Oh, sorry."
    "Talk to 'Bert. He knows what he's doing."

    "Roberto, why can't I pitch well?"
    "Well, do you have a 96 MPH fastball?"
    "Uh, no."
    "Well, then. You look a lot like Kris. Go talk to him."

    "KB, why can't I pitch?"
    "Well, have you already tried coming down with a bunch of minor injuries, blaming your collegiate and former team's coaching staff for ruining your arm?"
    "Try that then. If not, get a slutty wife. If you can't even do that, go talk to that chubby lefty who needs a haircut."

    "Royce, my boy! Why can't I pitch?"
    "Duuuuude, have you ever watched Dark Side of the Moon with Wizard of Oz in your record player?"
    "Well this can't be helpful."
    "Waiiiiit, dude, I totally meant the opposite of that. Okay, well, go talk to Piazza. I think he had a 40-win season once."
    "You mean 40 homers."
    "Yeah, sure."
    "Thanks, Royce. Stay away from my kids."

    "Mike, why can't I pitch?"
    "I dunno, Tom. I try to help behind the plate."
    "Well, sure you do, but sometimes you aren't very good at holding the strike zone! Or throwing out runners!"
    "Well, I'm sorry, but I'm Mike friggin' Piazza! I don't have to take this! I'm going to go sulk! Ask Fran Healy!"

    "Fran, why can't I pitch?"
    "Tom, the reason why you can't Nikon pitch is because so many balls go over the Geico sign during the Amtrak Acela Home Run Inning! I don't like watching them sail into the Pepsi picnic area! And you know what happens when somebody hits the Budweiser sign."
    "I know what happens. I've seen them."
    "Here's one thing you should see: Jose Reyes run! He and David Wright are really exciting players!"
    "Thanks, Fran..."
    "Have you ever had one of those Primo Italian sausages? They're very good."
    "I have to go..."
    "Ralph Branca... Ralph Kiner... Johnny Olerud! VORP! Go talk to Rickey. He's still around."
    "As an instructor. Thanks again, Fran."
    "You're Chevy welcome, and that's a can of corn."

    "It's Tommy. What can Rickey do for Tommy?"
    "Rickey, why can't I pitch?"
    "Well, Tommy gun, I'll tell ya a thing or two about pitching. It's easy. Rickey could pitch, but he's too busy being better than those pitchers he faces. Rickey can do it all, field, hit, run, play baseballs."
    "But what's wrong with my pitches?"
    "Well, Tombola, I think you don't throw enough pitches in the strike zone."
    "But what about my change up?"
    "Well, Tomfool, you don't know a change-up 'till you've partied through dawn with Greg Vaughn. Who you thought was straight-o, but no, TomTom Club, he's gayer than a banan-o."
    "Excuse me? I won two Cy Youngs."
    "Yeah, Rickey cares. You ever won an MVP, Tom Hanks?"
    "No, can't say I have..."
    "Go talk to Rey-O. He can help."

    "You know man, I hit the ball, I run the bases, I swing and hit the ball."
    "Jose, why can't I pitch?"
    "You know man, you pitch the ball, you run the bases, you throw and pitch the ball, you know?"
    "I don't think I follow. Should I throw more curveballs?"
    "You know man, you throw the curveballs, you run the bases, you swing and hit the ball, man."
    "You know man, you hit the ball, you run the bases, you hit a triple."
    "I don't hit triples."
    "You know man, go talk to Matsui, he's a man among men."

    "Kaz, why can't I pitch?"
    "(through interpreter) I'm very sorry. I will try my hardest to do my best. I respect the fans of New York and I think they are great people who just want to see good baseball."
    "Well, maybe I shouldn't be asking you."
    "I respect your opinion!"

    "Oh, lonesome Glavinely soul, whoever shalt I talk to? Whatever can I do to save myself? I'm Tom friggin' Glavine!"
    "Yes. Mahalo."
    "No, Tom. It's the ghost of Tyler Yates, who is sort of the ghost of Mark Guthrie who is the ghost of David Justice who is the ghost of Robin Ventura."
    "Fine. It's Tyler goddamn Yates! I can help, I swear."
    "How so?"
    "I know a guy. He's a man trained in all sorts of pitching. I can give him a heads-up if you want."
    "Tom Emanski?"
    "No. They call him a healer. I call him 'the jacket.'"
    "Oh no. Not him. He really creeps me out."
    "Tom, you have to talk to him. This is what they pay him to do."
    "He couldn't fix you!"
    "Well, in case you joined us late in this conversation, I'm Tyler Yates."
    "He couldn't fix James Baldwin!"
    "He couldn't turn Dae-Sung Koo into a lethal lefty!"
    "Hell, he actually managed to make Kaz Ishii and Victor Zambrano into worse pitchers than they originally were."
    "Fluke. Fluke. The man fixed Barry Zito!"
    "Barry Zito was never broken."
    "He fixed Tim Hudson!"
    "Huddy is one of the most consistent pitchers in all of baseball."
    "He made Billy Koch look like Billy Wagner and Billy Taylor look like Jason Isringhausen, who used to look like Billy Taylor, but then he didn't, and now he does again."
    "Listen, Tyler, I don't think I can go through with it. Last time he tried to put my pitching arm on a Jose Cuervo drip."
    "It's called alternative methods of teaching pitching."
    "Well do I really have to go by it? I'm Tom Glavine!"
    "Well, Tom, you can toil in mediocrity until that aged left arm of yours falls off and nobody sheds a tear, or you can take a gamble on Slick Rick and his jacket of pitching skills. Your choice."
    "Thanks, Yatesy, you've been helpful."
    "You're welcome, Tom. Could you foot the bill for my next Tommy John surgery? I want Don Ho to perform it, but apparently his fees are a little out of my price range."
    "Okay... Aloha, my buddy!"


    "Who's there?"
    "Rick, it's just me. Are you... making... meth?"
    "No, I just enjoy the taste of boiled Sudafed and Windex. It cleanses the palette."
    "This was a bad idea."
    "You're not going to tell Wilpon, are you?"
    "No, I guess I won't. But you have to help me first. I'm having trouble pitching."
    "Hah. If that isn't the understatement of the year..."
    "I resent that. I won two Cy Youngs!"
    "Listen, I spoke with the ghost of Jerry Garcia three weeks ago. He said 'Driving that train, high on cocaine, Casey Jones YOU BETTER watch your speed. Trouble ahead, trouble behind, And you know that notion just crossed my mind.'"
    "You've been incredibly helpful, Rick."
    "No, Tom, you don't get it! I want to help you! I really do. Did you ever try the Tequila drip? That's the kind of thing that worked for Barry Zito and that's what's going to work for you."
    "Rick... I'm not Barry Zito. I'm Tom Glavine and I want to be treated like I am Tom Glavine."
    "Well then, Tommy, in the words of Mike Breen, let's go to the videotape."
    Out of a pocket in Rick's ubiquitous nylon-polyester jacket, he whips out a tiny cassette. Rick inserts the videocassette into the nearby player.
    "It's 1995. Game 6. I threw eight innings of shutout baseball. We won, 1-0. Clinched the series. I remember it like it was yesterday."
    "Well, it's not like you're throwing any harder. It could just as well be yesterday."
    "But I was pitching like that every year with the Mets! First I do what Vern "The Golden" Ruhle tells me to do and throw all of these curveballs, and then they get hit hard..."
    "Tom, it's just me now. You have to listen. I promise we can work on whatever without Wilson Betemit seeing a thing."
    "That's just your problem, Tom. You have to respect your opposition. He's Wilson Betemit, and according to the resident Mets blogger at Crosstown Rivals, he will do all he can to singlehandedly destroy the Mets. And he, more so than any other Brave, is capable of doing it."
    "You can't mean that. What about all the good players I played with? Chipper Jones, Brian Jordan, Rafael Furcal, Andres Galarraga, Javy Lopez, Eddie Perez, Bret Boone, Walt Weiss and Ryan Klesko? Do they not exist? I'm freaking out about the mere concept of keeping Andruw Jones, Gerald Williams and Otis Nixon in check on the basepaths. And that Hank Aaron is closing in on Babe Ruth's all-time home run record."
    "Well, I thought you were the enlightened one, but apparently you're just like all of the others. I will educate you with these NL East flashcards I have. This is Wilson Betemit. He's the best player in the NL East. The Braves also have Jeff Francoeur, a good young slugger. Ryan Howard, Bobby Abreu, Chase Utley and Pat Burrell can hit it far for the Phillies-"
    "But what about Mike Schmidt? He's a tough one. They have Doug Glanville too. And have you heard about this kid Rolen that's coming up? He's supposed to be the next Schmidt. And if you forget about John Kruk and Len Dykstra, well then, you're in for a world of hurt."
    "No, Tom. That was a long time ago. Anyway, this is Alfonso Soriano. He plays second base for the Nationals. And here's Miguel Cabrera. He plays for the Marlins."
    "The who and the whats?"
    "They're new teams in the NL East. The Marlins have been around since 1993, so I expected you to know that one. And the Nationals, they showed up in 2005, so I can't really fault you there. They used to be called the Expos."
    "Oh, the Expos! Tell Rusty Staub I said hello. Oh that Grande Orange!"
    "Anyway, Tom, I think I know what to do about your problem. I figure that if you just throw these cheesy changeups and fastballs to the outside of the plate, you're only using half of the plate. Hitters can lean out over the plate. Have you considered using a cutter and/or inside fastball?"
    "Wait, Rick. Are you serious? You actually know how to coach pitching? I thought you were all about karma and reformation of the country's 'archaic drug laws.' This is a really surprising development, especially since I heard all you told Victor was 'just do it' and you gave him a bunch of Nike memorabilia. Then, according to legend, you drugged him, stole his arm tendons and replaced them with those Paul Wilson's old arm that you found in the basement."
    "I am a licensed medical professional. I can perform Tommy John surgery and, according to recent studies, peyote and Rohypnol can be an effective anesthetic. And furthermore, I don't appreciate you impugning my methods. I fixed Barry Zito."
    "For the last time, Barry Zito was never broken. I'll try to take your tips into account. Do you have any other suggestions?"
    "I have one final idea. I learned it when I took Tai Chi with Bill Lee and Horacio Ramirez. It's called beating the snot out of Tom Glavine and getting those replacement teeth back in your head."
    "Okay, Rick. Any better ideas?"
    "I have this jacket..."
    "I'm leaving."
    "No, just wait. It has strong ionic currents running through it that can turn your arm into a fusion of Brad Lidge and Randy Johnson during their primes. You can throw high-90s with an unquestionably lethal slider."
    "I think you're deceiving me."
    "Listen, Tom. I wear this jacket for strictly ridiculous purposes. Call it superstition, but I do think it seriously brings me luck."
    "Are you sure it's not just a placebo jacket?"
    "I toured all of 1997 with Placebo! I earned that jacket!"
    "Jeez, Rick. I'll wear the damn jacket. Only when I'm not pitching, though."
    "Glad we're on the same page."

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    Down but not out...

    The Mets this week head to St. Louis to face Albert Pujols. And yeah, while they're there, they'll get to see the new Busch Stadium and have wild parties with Isaac Bruce and Keith Tkachuk. What Albert Pujols has done is amazing, but more about that later. The Mets are in a bit of a S-L-U-M-P, but you shouldn't tell the kids that they are facing a Cardinals team thaet has been the toast of the NL for a few years running. If the Mets truly are to assume the Cardinals' mantle, then this is a quietly pivotal series before they take on Miguel Cairo and the third baseman as the Yankees move across town. However, keep hope alive. They've got the hits! Hits! They score the runs! Runs! Our team. Our time.

    Game 1: Tuesday, 8:10 (EDT)
    Tom Glavine, LHP (5-2, 2.19 ERA) vs. Jeff Suppan, RHP (4-2, 4.58 ERA)
  • Edge/Analysis: The hotter-than-hot renaissance Glavine squares off against the underwhelmer extraordinaire Suppan. Off to a poor start, J-Supp has somehow won four straight starts. Things are looking up for Suppan and should the Mets' offense became further moribund, he's got a good chance, but for now you can't deviate from picking Glavine.

  • Game 2: Wednesday, 8:10 (National TV: ESPN)
    Steve Trachsel, RHP (2-3, 4.91 ERA) vs. Mark Mulder, LHP (4-1, 4.27 ERA)
  • Edge/Analysis: I'm getting sick of Trachsel. Every time I watch him pitch, it's as though he's telling me, "Schuyler, I'm not a third starter. I'm a fifth at best. Please remove me from this man-made prison." And if there weren't so many injury problems in our staff, the Cardinals would probably beat him into long relief during this start. However, it's obvious that Mark Mulder has his issues too, though at home he's 3-0 with a 3.38 ERA. Pujols will hit two HR off of Trax. You can't stop it. Mulder.

  • Game 3: Thursday, 1:10 (EDT)
    Jose Lima*, RHP (0-2 9.31 ERA) vs. Jason Marquis, RHP (4-4, 5.33 ERA)
  • Edge/Analysis: I have not asterisked Jose Lima because I view him as a steroid user. In fact, I view him as a man so devoid of steroids that he is practically crying out for weaker testing procedure. Jason Marquis is another troubled pitcher, a case of great stuff and terrible inconsistency. And let it not be forgotten that Lima's last bout of success came in the 2004 NLDS against these Cardinals while in his renaissance with the Dodgers. But come now, it's Jose Lima. the Marquis de Lafayette.

  • STL Breakdown: Record- 24-14
    Well, Albert Pujols turns out to be a pretty good player, considering he's slugging .833, and has driven in 48 of the 191 runs that St. Louis has scored. He's also scored 20 runs not on his homers, meaning he has been responsible for 68 of 191 St. Louis runs. Meaning he comprises about one-third of their offense. It seems slightly ludicrous that the best two teams in the National League are matching up and the hullaballoo is focused on everything else. But the Cardinals do have flaws. Their starting pitching has hardly lived up to steep expectations, lacking strong showings out of any of the three starters who will pitch this series. Upstart fifth starter Sidney Ponson, in what appeared to be a rebound season, went down with an elbow injury that will sideline him briefly. They still have Chris Carpenter, though, and he's everything they expected of him and more, posting a lights-out 1.98 ERA in nine starts, though he only has a 3-2 record. Their bullpen has also been a disappointment compared to its strength in years previous. Former Met Jason Isringhausen has been far from lights out, blowing two saves to the tune of a 1-2 record with a 4.73 ERA. Fellow former Met Braden "Ow! My AC Joint!" Looper has had one save opportunity in a set-up role. He blew it, for the record. He has been decent, though, posting a 2-0 record with a 3.07 ERA in 14 appearances. The bullpen misses specialists like Julian Tavarez and Ray King, though newcomers Josh Hancock, Brad Thompson and Adam Wainwright have allowed only 9 runs in 55 innings of work. Thompson's ERA is sub-one, Wainwright's is sub-two and Hancock's is sub-three. Lefty specialist Randy Flores has also been solid. The non-Pujols players are not exactly disappointments either, though having a corner outfield of Larry Bigbie/So Taguchi in left and Juan Encarnacion in left is nothing to write home about. David Eckstein, the scrappy shortstop, is hitting .311 and is acting as a good tablesetter for Big Al. Scott Rolen, in what is so far an injury-free season, is hitting nearly .300. Jim Edmonds also has driven in nearly 30 runs.

    Players to Watch for:
    STL: Albert Pujols. Do I need to explain this one?

    NYM: Cliff Floyd. I think it's time for him to break out. It must be. Let's do it, Cliffy.

    Player of the Series: Albert Pujols

    Picks: Los Cardinales take two of three. And then this ugly road trip comes to an end. Thank god.

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    A Victory by Any Other Name...

    This game was too much for me to take.

    The Mets won this game on too many levels. They shredded the Brew Crew in most categories.

    But so much of it makes me wonder.

    Why has Jose Valentin been playing so well?

    Why does Willie Randolph love Chad Bradford? I was thinking about it, with the improvement of Jorge Julio...
    He last pitched during the Phillies series. Bradford has been not so good, to the tune of an ERA of 4.61, and has garnered his second loss of the year.

    Put this one on the Mets' pitching, though. Sanchez is human, all of Pedro's runs came on long balls and walks and even ChadBrad gave up his run on a homer.

    And, as good as things went during some parts of this game, they went even worse in others.

    Call me a pessimist, but with St. Louis and the Andy Phillipses in our next two series, the Mets could be looking at a record resembling .500 next weekend.

    And that, based on everything we've learned about this team to date, is unacceptable.

    Glavine needs to pitch well, Trachsel needs to do well enough and Bannister needs to come back strong.

    Otherwise, the Mets leave St. Louis, with the gap between them and Philly, just like the roof of Miller Park, fully closed.

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    So much for an easy win, eh?

    This game was one of those games that makes you question whether baseball really exists. Hell, it makes you question who was actually playing left field today and what goggled righty took the hill for the eighth. It makes you wonder which Italian backstop came up bigtime, and which closer's head was actually bobbled during tonight's game.

    It makes you wonder which thumping third baseman hit a three-run homer. And which lefty first baseman whipped one out on a blown call.

    It's an ugly win. No doubt about it. The Mets' pen imploded, something that is a theme so scary, especially on the breaking news that Jon Lieber regained his form against on of the NL's top teams, throwing perfect baseball for almost seven frames, and having Adam Dunn's perfection-ending hit glance off a diving Jimmy Rollins.

    It comes as a scare that the Braves got to Chad Cordero, in a game where the much-maligned Alfonso Soriano whipped his 11th homer over the fence at Turner Field, a total more than double that of David Wright.

    It hurts to think about all of this.

    But tonight, we can sleep soundly, with Victori Gonzalez's name replacing LimaTime in that rotation, even after a somewhat unimpressive debut.

    All because of the Duck.

    Yes, the Duck did it tonight, ladies and gents. He waddles up to the plate against flamethrowing Derrick Turnbow, the toast of the National League's reclamation project closers. The hero of all suspended Andro users. And the Duck hit one out. It immediately made me recall the one game that turned me against Willie Randolph.

    You may call it the walkoff walk game. You may call it the Mike Cameron hit one really far off of Turnbow game. You might call it the Victor Zambrano is terrible game (but aren't they all like that?) or hell, you could call it that game where he pitched Looper and Hernandez for two innings apiece, burned them out for the series to the point where each of them was responsible for a loss on consecutive days. But where was Willie this time when the bullpen burned down? He was fighting for his pitcher, the Sanchez-man, on a night when he wasn't perfect. Corey Koskie, while watching the pride of Ottawa get smoked by Chris Drury, Henrik Tallinder and Jason Pominville, hit one that turned the game around. And sure, so did Damian Miller. And even when ChadBrad got the outs, it wasn't the same.

    "Here we go again," I said.
    Here we go down the path of games where Willie burns everyone in extra(neous) innings knowing full well it is suicide for the next few games.

    But instead, the Duck had something to say.

    And when Alpaca Farm came in, it just felt over.
    Not like Life With Loopy. Just over.

    And it was. And so it was.
    The Mets stave off the Phillies for another day.

    And after a Victori, there's always a Pedro.

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