What's the name of that Tom Hanks movie? You know, the one where everyone has AIDS?

We came.  We saw.  We heard about Jake's ballsac.

New York comes to Philadelphia:  The Press

Pick Me Up Some Mets!

New York Times, 4-20-08 

(Check for the part about the fans in the upper deck, left field side.  We brought the raucousness.  And the AIDS jokes.)

Metsblog

Metsblog flickr page

And just for good measure, the Opening Day Rickroll...

Photo courtesy of metsblog's flickr page.

Do They Have To Rub It In?

Imagine: you watched the Mets pitch and hit and fight and win yesterday, made plans to meet your buddies at the bar to watch by far the biggest game the Mets will play this season, you wore your lucky hat/jersey/boxers and then watched in disbelief as Tom Glavine delivered the worst game of his Hall of Fame career. Then, after crying in your beer, comiserating with your friends, getting talked off the ledge by your family, you come to accept the fact that this just wasn't the Mets year. You're ready to move on. You come home, have a nice dinner with your wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend and then settle down in front of the T.V. And you see this:


Call it a hunch, but I don't think they're going to need the whole half hour. What a kick in the nuts.

If I were Fred Wilpon, I would make Willie and Omar personally take down the playoff seats that the Mets put up behind the on deck circles at Shea.

Meet the Mess

I've been trying to stay positive. Well, maybe not positive, but I've at least been trying to hang on to a shred of irritional optimism over the course of the last two weeks. I've gone from "confident" (up 7 with 17 to play!), to "nervously dismissive" (they've lost a few, but there's no way Phillie can make up that many games!), to "fucking pissed off" (see previous Fire Willie post), to "depressed" and then to where I am now - "acceptance." I have come to accept that the reality of the 2007 New York Mets: They suck.

I have tried to be the eternal optimist with this team. In my 25 years of fandom, I have never given up on the Mets. I've even tried to read the bullshit metsblog posts in which "Ya Gotta Believe" and other general happy thoughts are radiated like rays up sunshine right up my ass. But its not possible to feel good about this team. They just suck. Even if the impossible happens, like, I don't know, WINNING TWO OF THREE AGAINST A SHITTY LAST PLACE TEAM, and the Mets fall face first into the playoffs, can any fan realistically feel excited about our chances? No they cannot.

Perhaps Faith and Fear in Flushing sums it up best: "I want to hear why on earth I should give a fuck about the 2007 New York Mets. Because there's far too much evidence that the 2007 New York Mets themselves do not."

That's why this team pisses me off so much. It's the overwhelming evidence that they just don't give shit. Willie Randolph and his apologists will tell you that it isn't the managers job to get a bunch of millionaire athletes pumped up to play a game. They should be able to do that themselves. Well, if that is the case, then what the fuck is the point of having a manager in the first place? I understand that the batters have to score runs and the pitchers need to not eat a big plate of dicks, but why even have a manager then? If they don't have to get the players juiced, then put me in! I can make questionable double switches! I can grossly misuse the bullpen! I can give generic, canned baseball cliches after a crushing defeat! Fuck yeah!

Watching this team is almost like having a terminal illness. I'm just glad that I've finally reached the "acceptance" stage of the "anger, denial, depression, acceptance" chain. I actually found myself laughing last night when my friend, cocked no less, sent me a "Were done! Y do I even root 4 them!" text after Joel Pineiro, he of the "Cut By the Red Sox" Pineiros, strutted off the field like he was Steve Fucking Carlton. Because was there ever a doubt that this was going to happen? You cannot have a losing record for the months of June and July and expect to win your division. You cannot expect to sleep walk through the month of September against shitty teams and have the division handed to you on a fucking silver platter.

This is not the '06 Mets. That team was fun. They rallied. They had exciting victories. They appeared to give a shit. And perhaps that was the problem. After six years of sucking, the Mets clubhouse realized how much talent they had. And then they got complacent. When that happens, you need the right player, or manager, to smash some fucking furniture, or get in an umps face, or giving a rousing speech. But not this time. Who is going to do that? Willie? Tom Glavine? Carlos "Hip Flexor" Delgado? Do you really think anyone can take Paul Lo Duca seriously at this point?

Here's a "Flushing Flash" for this year's Mets: YOU DON'T HAVE AS MUCH FUCKING TALENT AS YOU FUCKING THINK YOU DO. Carlos Delgado SUCKS. Carlos Beltran is streaky. Your corner outfielders are 40. Your second baseman's knees are in shambles. Your bullpen is comprised of over-the-hill the castoff starters and Guillermo Mota, possibly the worst fucking reliever in baseball as we speak. YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY TRY IF YOU WANT TO WIN. Fuck fuck fuck.

All I could think about this morning when I woke up at 5:40 a.m. and couldn't fall back to sleep was being at Game 6 of the Rangers vs. Sabres Eastern Conference semi-finals last year. In the closing minutes of that game, when it became obvious that the game was lost, every Ranger fan in the building got on their feet and started cheering. I've never seen anything like it at a sporting event I've been to in person. People were cheering like the Rangers had just advanced to the Cup finals. Even though they were about to get knocked out of the playoffs, we were telling the team "You didn't make it happen this year, but fuck, it was a great ride." And it was. And when the players gathered at center ice and saluted us with their sticks, I thought on my way out of the Garden, "This was a fun year." Can you picture that happening at Shea on Sunday? Because I can't. All I can see is a bunch of overpaid assholes slinking off the field after a record setting collapse.

Rooting for the Mets should be fun, but this bunch has somehow found a way to take that away from me. Thanks 2007 Mets - my season has come!

Willie Randolph, Your Season Has Come...And Gone

You heard it here first: whether or not the Mets snap out of this God awful, stinky crotched, hideous fucking funk they're in, I want Willie Randolph out. I don't care if they win the World Series, I want Willie to pack his shit before the champagne dries.

I don't ask for all that much from my teams. In my lifetime, I've seen the Rangers win the Cup (which was more enjoyable than losing my virginity) and a couple UCONN basketball titles. I've stuck by the Mets through every shitty summer and every shitty inning they've played in my lifetime. All I ask is that the team, as a whole, cares. Or at least looks like they care. That was why I hated Roger Cedeno's fat ass - the guy had the world's biggest grin on his face whether he hit for the cycle or grounded into a double play. You can shit in your hat, Roger Cedeno.

On the other hand, I have always loved guys like Esa Tikkanen, Wayne Chrebet, Lou Piniella, Keith Hernandez and so on. When they played, or coached, they busted their ass. They looked like they would be more devastated than I was after a loss or a bad call. That's what I want. Which leads me to Willie Randolph.

Willie Randolph is calm to a fault. It makes me wonder if he has some kind of condition. Like partial autism or something. Which would make me feel bad for ripping on him, but not that bad. Some people say, "You're an idiot, players want to play for a manager who has confidence in them. Willie doesn't need to tear up the clubhouse to inspire the team." I say balls to that. Observe the following:

- Willie in today's New York Times: "If we smell the roses and sip some Champagne, so be it; if not, that's life."

- Paul Lo Duca on WFAN today: "Lo Duca responded with a solid four seconds of silence when asked if he believes his manager, Willie Randolph, should go out and defend his players to the umpire."

- Marty Noble, quoting an anonymous Met in his Mets.com column: "We play at the temperature of the manager. I know Willie cares a lot, but he's not showing it much."

Add to this the fact that he still has trouble pulling off a double switch (did you really need to use all three catchers last night, Willie?), continues to trot Guillermo "The Tall Mel Rojas" Mota out to the mound and lacks even fundamental knowledge of in game strategy, and it is clear to see he needs to go. Willie Randolph's idea of managing a bullpen is a real fucking stroke of genius as well: leave a guy in until he gets bombed, at which point the booing is so loud it's a cue to pull him. Awesome.

Willie Randolph may be a decent guy, but good God is he a shitty manager. And I believe that it all begins with his roots as a Yankee. Joe Torre, for all of his credentials, is a shitty baseball manager. If you put him on the Royals in the late '90s and early '00s, he would be no different than Art Howe. Give him a $200 million payroll and he's gold. I'll admit, Torre is good at what he does - keeping a clubhouse full of enormous egos in check in the pressure cooker of a media market that is New York. Other than that, the guy stinks. He doesn't know how to manage his bullpen, makes odd lineup moves and substitutions, and so on. Willie is the same way. The Mets success over the last three years has not been because of Willie, it has been in spite of him. Give Bobby V the talent we have now, and I guarantee you get the same or better results.

So I say, happy trails to you, Willie Randolph. It's been real. It's been fun. But it hasn't been real fun. Time to turn the page.

And, just in case you no longer want to watch calm, cool and collected Willie answer questions in a pissy manner after the next Mets loss, here is your very own "Build A Postgame Interview" starring Willie Randolph. Just plug in the appropriate opponent and player that cost the Mets the game in question.

Reporter: Willie, are you upset about todays loss?

Willie: Upset? Nah, man, I'm not upset. Sometimes you just gotta tip your hat, you know? And the ______ deserved it today. They played hard.

Reporter: But Willie, this was a pretty big game. Your lead in the East has shrunk to ___ games. Do you feel like your team is pressing at all?

Willie: Do I feel like we're pressing? Nah, man, you know, we just have to go out there tomorrow and win one. This game isn't any more important than the next, you know? We're not pressing, we just gotta turn the page, go out there, and get 'em tomorrow.

Reporter: Willie why did you put in _______ in the 6th inning when he has pitched four days in a row and has a history of sucking against this team, and lefties?

Willie: Well, you know, ______ is my guy. He's been my guy all year. He's probably got some of the best stuff in our bullpen, he just needs to show it. I had a gut feeling and it didn't work out, you know? No big deal.

Reporter: Willie, do you think you need to address the team to snap them out of this skid? I mean, you've lost ___ in a row.

Willie: Address the team? No, no, I'm not going to address the team. I mean, these are my guys. Just gotta stay positive, stay strong, go back out there and play our hardest. They're trying, you know? That's all I can ask, man.

Reporter: But Willie, your team has made ___ errors in the last __ games. Your bullpen has blown the lead ___ games in a row. Are they really trying that hard?

Willie: This interview is over.

Jerry Manuel doesn't even want to talk to Willie.

Mets Haiku Bukakke Party

One time during a boring intro history class in college, Professor Reyes passed me a notebook he had been scribbling poems in. No, Professor Reyes isn't gay (in all likelihood) - they were just dumb haikus making fun of our friends. One in particular struck me....I believe it went something along the lines of:

Slipping in his puke

Fingering an ugly girl

'Tis the life of Dan*

I don't know why I was thinking about this at work the other day, but I nearly laughed out loud at my desk, just like in college. So I figured I would address the current state of the Mets in haiku form. It's a way to be feel clever while actually being really fucking lazy.

Shawn Green

Oh, Flaco - what's wrong?

Is it your gangly body?

Are steroids kosher?

John Maine

Cy Young candidate
You are my man crush, young John

I would have your kids

Moises Alou

Where did Moises go?
Is he still a New York Met?

Stop peeing on hands

Carlos Delgado

Why can't you hit, 'Los?

We don't pay you to suck balls

Two forty - not good

Mike Pelfrey

What happened to you?

You were going to be big

Now, Anthony Young

Ruben Gotay

My friend, you got fucked
Castillo can't hit like you

Willie likes old folks

Guillermo Mota

You injected drugs

Now you stink like Shea toilet

Get back on the juice**

Julio Franco

Wanted to play more
You were the human ground out

Good riddance, Old Fuck

That's really all I have in me right now - have to get back to Glavine going for 300. More Japanese goodness to follow later.

*This name has not been changed. Dan really did do these things.

**Live Update: Mota (with help from Feliciano) just blew Glavine's 300th. I sincerely hope this was the last we will see of Steroid in a Mets uniform.

John Maine Got Hosed

I can't remember the last time I really cared about the All Star game. High school, maybe? Middle school, before my summers were filled with illegally purchased coconut rum and mid-afternoon masturbation? I certainly haven't cared since college, and I really could give a shit about tonight's game...that's why I figured now would be as good a time as any to check back in with the ol' blog.

I was thinking of doing a "Mets midseason report card" kind of thing, but I'm too lazy to do that in this godawful heat. Plus, Eddie Coleman did a decent one at wfan.com anyway. So in the spirit of the All Star game and my general crankiness at the fact that its so hot in New York I have to frequently wiggle my hand around in my pants pockets at work in an attempt to peel my scrotum away from my inner thigh while trying not to look like a total pervert, I figure I'll just bitch about the fact that John Maine got totally screwed out of a spot on the All Star team.

I've never really been one to put much stock into the All Star rosters in the first place. Every team has to have a representative, and as we've seen in other recent elections, the American public can't really be trusted to make sound evaluations of personal talent and ability anyway. Some asshole like Barry Bonds or Jeff Kent always gets selected based on the fact that at one time they were the best at their respective positions, but aren't so great any more. Same shit happened again this year (Freddie Sanchez? Jose Valverde?? What the fuck???).

What really burns my ass though is that not only did John Maine not make the team initially, but he wasn't even considered in the internet voting runoff that followed the initial voting. I understand that John Maine is still young, but that shouldn't excuse the shit I feel he takes after such a solid start to this season. I've been sticking up for Maine since the '06 playoffs - especially when my douchey Yankee fan friends try to convince me that Maine isn't all he's cracked up to be. Granted, he could suck a fat one in the second half, but so could any of the All Stars chosen for this year. Players who make the All Star team should make the team based on their first half performance. Period. Here are some of the losers who made the team over Maine and his 10-4 record, 2.71 ERA and 7.63 K/9:

Roy Oswalt: 8-5/3.53/6.27

Ben Sheets: 10-4/3.41/6.75

John Smoltz: 9-5/3.07/8.18

Brandon Webb: 8-6/3.37/7.69

You can make a case for these guys, but there is no reason that Maine's name should not be mentioned with any of these "All Stars," and..ahhh, fuck it. Who really cares anyway. Let's just hope that Maine has as good a second half as he did this spring/summer.

For now, I'm going to smoke a bowl and hope that Fox decides to talk to Eric Byrnes and his dog for the rest of this game.

Los Mets

Guh. I wanted this to be a happy post. A post about how the Mets are turning the corner after their blowout win against Minnesota last night. But no. Looks like it's more "one step forward and two steps back." Well, not exactly, I guess that won't be true until unless they lose to the Twins tomorrow.

It's cool. I wanted to write about something else anyway. There was a link on deadspin today to this post. The gist of the post was that the kid who runs the blog heard from his "inside source" that Julio Franco is a clubhouse cancer, and since the Mets have been in their June long swoon, Julio has been at the center of a "racial divide" between the Latinos and non-Latinos. To me, this story seems like utter bullshit. The site was just started on June 18th and is even more poorly written/edited than this one. The author of the Julio Franco post is in high school and formerly did something at metsblog. He made this known for a short time this morning before Matt Cerrone, owner and operator of metsblog, asked him to remove his blog's name from the post. This was the appropriate thing to do, however (a) I don't understand why Cerrone is getting help from high school kids if metsblog is his sole profession and (b) he totally pussed out. If he really didn't want his name associated with such a bogus article, he should have reamed the kid a new asshole instead of thanking him and wishing him good luck. We love metsblog here at Out In The Wilderness, but at times its a little too diplomatic. Ideally, we wouldn't even be linking to the offending post, however we're confident that not enough people read this blog to make an impact anyway. (Side note: if you click our site meter and click on "referrals," you will see that someone found our site by googling "pleated jorts." Perhaps this whole blog is worth it after all...)

There has been a lot of talk about the "Latinization" of the Mets ever since Omar Minaya took the reins as GM. Others have stirred the spicy, frijole filled pot as well, what with Ozzie Guillen claiming that Latino players are being unfairly implicated in the recent steroid "crackdown" and Gary Sheffield, being the crazy fuck that he is, claiming that fewer black players are in the league today because MLB wants "easier to control" Latinos.

To throw our sombrero into the "Latino Invasion" ring, I decided to do a scientific study* of Latino players on the twenty-five man active rosters of every MLB team. Here are the results, and bear in mind, I am only including players who were born in a "Latino" country, not just players with Hispanic sounding names:

14 Latinos

New York Mets

9 Latinos
Boston Red Sox
LA Angels
Detroit Tigers

8 Latinos
Arizona Diamondbacks
Cleveland Indians
New York Yankees

7 Latinos
Washington Nationals
Kansas City Royals
Minnesota Twins
Texas Rangers
Seattle Mariners

6 Latinos

Florida Marlins
San Francisco Giants
Chicago White Sox

5 Latinos
Philadelphia Phillies
Chicago Cubs
Colorado Rockies
Cincinnati Reds
Milwaukee Brewers

4 Latinos
Atlanta Braves
Pittsburgh Pirates
LA Dodgers
Baltimore Orioles
Tampa Bay Rays

3 Latinos
Oakland A's

2 Latinos
San Diego Padres
St. Louis Cardinals
Houston Astros

0 Latinos

Toronto Blue Jays

So what do we make of this empirical study? Well, lets look at how the seven teams with the most Latinos are faring in the standings:

Mets: 1st Place, NL East

Red Sox: 1st Place, AL East

Angels: 1st Place, AL West

Tigers: 2nd Place, AL Central

Dbacks: 2nd Place, NL West

Indians: 1st Place, AL Central

Yankees: 2nd Place, AL East

Hmmm...I'm no advanced scout, but I would hypothesize that Latinos = wins. This hypothesis kind of goes to shit once you get to the teams with seven Latinos. This actually seems like the most unlucky number of Latinos to have on your team, since almost all of these teams totally stink.

The point is this: some of the best players in the game today are from Latin American countries. Through increased efforts by major league teams, especially the Mets, to give Latin players access to better fields, equipment, instruction, etc., as well as a vast increase in scouting in these countries, more and more Latino players are going to find success in Major League Baseball. As these players are rushed from their home countries to America at a very young age, it is inevitable that they are going to gravitate towards each other in baseball clubhouses. However, this should never be capitalized on in a race baiting blog post to suggest that the Latino players on a team (especially MY mothafuckin' team) are isolating themselves from the non-Latinos. If this were true, Julio Franco wouldn't have taken Lastings Milledge under his wing. Omar Minaya would not make David Wright's honky ass the face of the franchise. The Mets would not continue to draft white pitcher after white pitcher in the draft every year.

Ultimately, we could give a shit who is on our team. You could have a clubhouse that looked like the fucking UN. If you win, everyone gets along. If you lose, people are going to butt heads. If half of those players are Latino, this does not mean that you have a "racial divide" - it means the Mets your team needs to start winning. Unless you're starting Jorge Sosa against Johan Santana. Then you're just fucked.

*Looked up players on MLB.com