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.