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.