John Maine Will Eat Your Children

Reigning Cy Young Award Winner? Bullshit. Chris Carpenter is not fit to eat an oatmeal raisin cookie out of John Maine's ass. John Maine, the 25 year old throw-in in the Anna Benson trade, cares not for Carpenter's seven hits and two runs over six innings. Why? Because Chris Carpenter is not badass. A badass gets on the mound in the biggest game of his career and uses his right arm to wipe those homoerotic Speizio soul patches off of an entire city of jorts clad fans.

As we speak, John Maine is perched high above the Grand Central Expressway in his room at the Ramada freebasing caviar made not from Russian salmon, but from the eggs of B-list Hollywood starlets. John Maine's shit is used as currency in most Central American nations. His style is impetuous. His defense is impregnable. He is that ferocious. Right now French women are lining up at the Clinique counter to purchase the much awaited new scent, "Eau de John Maine's Gooch." While travelling to the Great Barrier Reef between starts, John Maine tracked down the stingray that speared the Crocodile Hunter. And raped it. If given the proper resources, John Maine would most definitely help George Clooney solve that thing over there.

The Mets had to win last night. Not in a gay, "If we don't win it's over, guys!" kind of way, but because that is the way this season has gone. The Mets managed to win 97 games this year while using 13 pitchers - one of which was Jose Lima. When the season got to the point where our livelihood rested on the shoulders of a man who is barely older than us and brings his dip cup to the post game press conference, we did not flinch. Why? Because John Maine is that badass.