Thoughts After A Lost Weekend

Watching the Mets this past weekend ranked slightly above the on goings with the Kardashian Clan, but below C-Span. Anytime your hometown team averages one run per game, in the bandbox known as Citizen’s Bank Ballpark, it is a frustrating and sleepy endeavor.

Regardless of who appears in the daily lineup.

Right now the Mets are being overmatched by pitchers eligible for their AARP cards and also ones pulled off the scrap heap. What to do?

Pray for rain or the All-Star break, which ever comes first. Frankly, I have tuned out injury updates for now. Wake me up when Jose Reyes, Carlos Beltran, Jon Maine, and Carlos Delgado are healthy enough to suit up. Now word that Fernando Martinez is ailing (this almost strikes the funny bone, because I thought the Knicks had the only other unhealthy 20-year old professional athlete in Danillo Galinari, but not anymore).

Usually, I am not a big all-star game festivities. I leave the monotonous home run derby to my 11-year old son. The mid-summer classic, replete with the pregame introductions and players clad in their own uniforms (unlike other professional all-star games that dress the stars alike) still has some allure.

However, dolling out a home Game 7 for the winner is ridiculous (it’s an exhibition game, for goodness sakes), but that is another post for another day.

(The subject is the lack of Mets offense, but I nodded off in mid-post.)

Basically fans, take it one game at a time and recharge your batteries after the break (that is if the anemic offense continues at home against the Dodgers and Reds). By then we might get some of our players and offense back (there seems to be more fielding follies lately than blasts).

Until the infirmed return, or reinforcements secured (as the price drops) the Mets should get passed like Abe Lincoln in the Presidents Race at Nationals Park (or is it the Hot Dog in the Sausage Race in Milwaukee?).

These are dark days my friends, but hopefully the team does not forget the Phillies just ate our lunch, kicked sand in our face, and danced with our dates all weekend, the next time they face off.