Fman99

I ain't werried nah

That's the way the cookie crumbles. 5-1 jerks

Now 4-0. So far, so bad

Fboy and I admired that sign live when it was aired the other day. I just let him know that that was put up there by MF/DD and he was very happy to know that. MetFairy and I met us for many years (and Diamond Dad a few times, and KC also) for enjoyable afternoons at the Citi.

=seawolf17 post_id=96977 time=1655893622 user_id=91] I tell you, if you've never had the opportunity to hang at a game (or anywhere) with DDad and MetFairy, you're missing out. They're a good time. I miss them around here.

Candy-??? [FIMG=444]https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/2606/9196/products/thecars-candy-o_x700.png?v=1624145833[/FIMG] I love this album cover.

I didn't get a chance to start making up Mets players that weren't even people. Plus, I just knew you were exchanging letters with Raul Argente. I mean, who else could it have been?

Aw, hell. Well at least I won't feel conflicted about going to bed early.

An 8:10 start, so I'm unlikely to get the entirety of this one, but, still, LGM

I listened while I worked and then while I drove around after work hitting my errand stops. Good job on the radio call today by H&W. McNeil day to day with "tightness" of the ham. X-rays negative on J.D. Davis' pinky where he got plunkied. So those are both good outcomes considering how Metsish they could have gone down.

Yeah that was a bummer.

=G-Fafif post_id=61176 time=1618667351 user_id=55] I'm 37 Down in today's NYT puzzle.

Maz is good, in a way. Once you get past his Sopranos-extra style of delivery, he actually does have some insight into the game, having played and managed. The other perk of him in the booth is that Howie does all 9 innings of PBP, instead of yielding as he does to Wayne. I listened to them for the full duration today, thanks to the endless fuckery that is the Mets-WPIX deal.

Edgy MD wrote: Luis' name is unfortunate, because as anonymous and interchangeable as it seemingly makes him with dozens of other Caribbean infielders named Luis, Hernandez, or Luis Hernandez, the way his Met career ended should be the stuff of legends. Of course, the timing wasn't much either. With an anonymous Mets team struggling to get back to .500 before running out of season, with Jerry Manuel a dead man walking as he brought the team home, it had been five days since Luis had seen his name in a lineup card. But for some reason, Manuel thought he could get it done that day against Tim Hudson, and inserted him at second, batting eighth, because that's where veteran backup infielders getting a spot start in September hit. In his second at bat against Hudson, he got a 1-0 fastball inside, driving it of the handle of his bat, down into his foot. He collapsed in pain. Jerry came out with his trainer, hands in his back pocket. Hernandez got up and put some weight on his foot. He tried to suppress his grimace, and told his manager he's OK. What else can you expect a veteran AAA guy to say? When he sees his name on a roster, he can pretty much make out where the words "Non-Tendered" and "DFA" have already been written and erased a half dozen times next to it. Managers have a responsibility here. Trainers do also. They can't x-ray the foot on the spot. The player is not going to be honest, so the call is theirs. They spend the next five minutes doing the pantamime of professionalism. "What do you think? I dunno. What do you think? I dunno." Luis spits, curses his anonymous name, and assures the trainer he's fine. He's not fine, and in fact has broken at least one metatarsal bone. Possibly two, I'm not sure. But life is hard and it won't get any easier begging out of the game. Jerry rolls over and lets Hernandez make the decision for himself, because that's who Jerry is. He's wants you to think he's a gangsta, but he's a go-along-to-get-along figure like so many placeholder managers before him. Luis wins the nominal argument, but damned if he's going to prolong this agony. He's going back in there swinging. He's a switch hitter, batting lefthanded, so there's no way he's going to let the righhanded Hudson surprise him inside again. But that's just what Hudson tries to do. Doubling up inside is really what a pitcher is supposed to do after successfully jamming a batter on the previous pitch. But Hernandez is almost insulted. At least, that's what the 9,000 or so of the 33,000 in attendance who were actually in their seats remember. Hernandez then proceeded to crush a low drive down the rightfield line. It was into the wind, but that made little difference. Rightfielder Jason Heyward made a perfunctory jog toward the fair pole, said a futile prayer that the ball might hook foul, before watching the ball fly 20 rows back inside the pole. While Heyward comforted himself with a reminder that the Braves were fighting for first place and the Mets were limping home 10 games behind them, forced to start soon-to-be-forgotten AAAA infielders, Hernandez winced in blinding pain one last time as the reverberations vibrated down to his foot. "Oh, yeah," he thought, "that fucker is broken." As ephemeral as his major league existence generally was, at this moment, it pretty much had the integrity of a soap bubble — floating beautifully for an instant in the sunlight, but it's doom promised at any moment, it's ultimate forgettability all but assured. Luis would in fact, exit the game and his Mets career the next half inning, with only two more plate appearances (for Texas) two years down the road to come before he would be forced to hang 'em up. This was, effectively, it. The last time he would "run" the bases as a major leaguer. Any manager understands the drill when an obviously wounded player hits a homer. Let your guy get to first before replacing him with a pinch runner. But Jerry Manuel wasn't just any manager. Some say he was charitable that day, letting Hernandez soak in whatever glory was left in his career as he hobbled around the bases in obvious discomfort. Other said he was cruel, with Joaquin Arias already set to replace the wounded Hernandez, just standing there watching the journeyman grind bone against bone with each crippling step. Most said Jerry was indifferent. Aloof. He had checked out and this is the sort of glorious but morbid spectacle you get when you're watching a team play out the string on autopilot as a doomed manager just sits there and feels sorry for himself. It might have been 30 seconds, or it might have been 30 minutes, but Luis Hernandez completed his macabre circuit, giving inattentive fans a chance to return their focus to the ghoulishly heroic spectacle before them. They stood on their feet and cheered as he crossed home plate. His teammates were gentle with their congratulations, somberly knowing — as everyone in the park not named "Jerry Manuel" knew — that something was wrong. Almost luridly so. Hernandez continued his listless trot toward the dugout and down the tunnel and into the greatest of Mets history, and ultimately, the vaguest of Mets obscurity. Giving his all in the most lost of causes — he became the strangest of heroes, in some measures never to be forgotten, but in most, rarely to be recalled. [media=youtube]V5RF85VVax8[/media] This is brilliant as usual. You have a gift, you know.

Edgy MD wrote: assuming a 0-armed outfielder is throwing. Neat trick

For some reason Marte did not break on contact. The infield was in and the first baseman did catch the grounder. Marte waited for him to throw to second to break for home. The throw was not great and the shortstop, in attempting to ensure he forced the runner, had to do a bit of a shuffle step just to step on 2nd and force Guillorme. While that was all happening, Marte scored uncontested. It was all very clunky, on both sides.

I didn't post it saying so, but I was one of the three CPF'ers who correctly called this 13 game stretch with a 7-6 prediction, which I'm also pretty happy about.

=roger_that post_id=96281 time=1655463809 user_id=128] What a bonehead move, sending the runner home with only one out. Total gift.

Not sure what Marte is doing there but happy to get a gift run. Now, let's put this fucker to bed, so I can go to bed.

The Mets are 6-0 this season in games coming off of a loss of 5 runs or more.

I bailed and watched wrestling with Fboy. The Jurassic Express lost the tag team championship to the Young Bucks. It was far more competitive.

Tonight's game was one of 2022's worst duds.

Seconded on the Ryan trade.

[media=youtube]-I_T3XvzPaM[/media]

Good stuff yesterday.