Please stop. Please for God’s sake stop it.
You are sitting there angrily clicking away on your laptop because Fred Wilpon didn’t give you a frigging sound-bite, a quote.
You don’t care. You don’t care one bit about the NY Mets … or their fans. You just care about your little nugget … your Scooby snack … the one you DIDN’T get, Mr. Bob Klapisch and David Lennon and the rest of you Sharknado media types …
You know how I know you don’t really care? Because I care … and I can TELL just from reading your articles that you don’t really care about us fans. We’ve been ignored and marginalized enough to know what it feels like, we’re pretty smart that way.
If you cared you wouldn’t say silly things like:
“Tell us you’re not going anywhere. Tell the billboard-backers to send those checks to charity instead. Something, anything, to replace the cheerful hand wave and silent treatment we’ve been getting.” ~ David Lennon
Why in the world would you say something like this David? I thought we were buddies? You were gracious enough to respond to an email question many years ago and I haven’t forgotten … but now this …
Look, asking for the WIlpons to start talking again is like asking for … I don’t know … more carbon emissions, more cholesterol, that’s like ordering a pastrami on rye with a side of CANCER … why would you want that?
Why would you print nonsensical comments like:
“That’s when Wilpon blew off a chance to deliver a state-of-the-team address. Instead of stopping, even for a few moments, to pump up the fan base, Wilpon walked right by. Not a word, not a gesture, no eye contact.” ~ Bob Klapisch
What are you thinking? You are tempting fate here Bob, you know Fred is going to take the bait right? It’s like inviting a vampire into your house. Would you stick your hand into a basket containing a live cobra? I’m thinking “no”? So then why would you, in good conscience, ask for the Wilpons to start talking again?
You should know better.
What happened the last few times the Wilpons talked to the media? It wasn’t good, it was the opposite of good. You may remember a certain New Yorker piece?
Lets scroll back through the haze of lost seasons to May of 2011.
Ah yes, Jeffrey Toobin wrote a feature on Fred Wilpon’s Madoff debacle.
In that article Fred Wilpon threw VIRTUALLY EVERY ONE OF HIS PLAYERS under the bus, and then he drove over them … he even thought it was a good idea to reiterate his self-aggrandizing bit about resurrecting Ebbets in Flushing. That piece had lots of quotes …
“He thinks he’s going to get Carl Crawford money.” In reference to Jose Reyes.
“A really good kid. A very good player. Not a superstar.” Directed at David Wright.
And regarding Carlos Beltran,
“He’s sixty-five to seventy per cent of what he was.”
He even had a comment for Ike Davis,
“Good hitter, shitty team—good hitter.”
And just for good measure,
“We’re snake bitten, baby.”
Indeed, we’ve all succumbed to the hand in the cobra basket from time to time.
In the baseball world, these comments are unusual. It’s sort of like a car salesman telling you the truth about a car. I’m sure some guy who worked at one of Bud Selig’s car dealerships wouldn’t have gone very far had he insisted on sharing the latent mechanical and structural defects of a 2001 Pontiac Aztek with his customers. Selig would fire that guy quicker than you could say Quetzalcoatl.
So, again, back in May of 2011, when this new Mets brain-trust, sanctioned and anointed by Selig himself, came across these comments in the New Yorker, well, I imagine there may have been a conversation between the front office and MLB.
“Hey, Bud hows it going?”
“Eh, not bad, the bunions are acting up but what are you gonna do? What’s the scoop Sandy? How’s the new gig?”
“Not so good Bud, not so good.”
“Now look Alderson, you can’t back out of it now.”
“No it’s not that, it’s this article in the New Yorker. Fred torpedoed some of our most valuable assets. How am I supposed to do my hatchet thing with this guy spilling his guts about what’s wrong with these guys?”
“Hmm … that’s not good.”
“No, it’s not … these owners, they really are morons of the highest order. I didn’t think it could be true but it is.”
“I’ll take care of it Sandy, don’t you fret my boy … I’m on it.” Click …
“Sally, get me that idiot Fred Wilpon on the phone will you … and bring me my foot ointment while you’re at it.”
Well maybe it didn’t go down exactly like that but you get the idea. At some point someone put a gag order on the Wilpons. Fred had effectively undermined some of the team’s most valuable trade commodities at a time when the general manager was looking to unload them and retool … and see, here’s the thing about this de facto gag order Bob and David … we are all better for it! Well, all except for you media types who rely on quotes.
I mean I get it, if everyone ignored you, if there were no quotes or “exclusives,” or “post-game pressers” what would separate you from some guy in Minnesota writing stuff off the top of his head? Not much … well, except for a journalism degree, and a bunch of experience, but otherwise not much! So I can sympathize … quotes are your life’s blood, they are better than jelly donuts and bacon and even Rice Krispies treats.
But you must understand, that in this case, it is MUCH MUCH better to not get a quote. Think of the fans David and Bob, think of the heartbroken children … think of the havoc a “state of the team” address could wreak on an unsuspecting fan-base? Oh the humanity! Forget you ever thought about this. It was not a good idea this demand that Wilpon start talking again … it was the opposite of a good idea.
Lets just forget this ever happened and let sleeping dogs lie, okay?
There, isn’t that better?