Icicle Works

Game 44 - Mets

Braves 8, Mets 1
Record: 28-16

An otherwise fine day was . . . mildly marred, but not spoiled by a bad loss to the Confederate States of America's Team. I happily took in the Norfolk Tides' 2-0 afternoon defeat of the Rochester Red Wings. (Thanks go out to Rob for promptly answering my inquiry as to which MLB club the Red Wings aligned themselves with after the midwinter shuffle: the Twins.) There are few finer ways to enjoy a 75-degree afternoon of sun and breeze than with $11 box seats and some minor league baseball. It didn't disappoint in the least.

I dropped another set on the tennis courts last evening, but it hardly mattered; the calories burned out there were quickly restored with a few pints nextdoor. A little competition, a little conversation, a little consumption. No disappointments here.

As for the Mets game . . . oh.

My initial frustration stemmed from my realization that I'd forgotten to record the game against the Braves. That, of course, vanished quickly enough after I asked the barkeep to tune one of the wall-hung flat-screens to TBS. I instantly watched 2-0 become 5-0 just like that, as if I'd just requested a punch in the face. It wasn't worth watching in the least, but the instinctive, occasional glance seemed to always induce a wince. If it wasn't Aaron Sele getting taken deep by the friggin' pitcher, it was the second base ump's dunderheaded hampering of the only Met rally (one cannot transfer what one has never possessed, nimrod) or Angel Hernandez's "Strike Zone by Picasso." Eyesore all around.

Jorge Sosa emulated veteran ace Tom Glavine by blowing up upon his return to Atlanta. It's uncanny the way these former Braves refuse to show up their old employers. We need Ollie Perez to be the non-disastrous Ollie Perez tonight, lest the Mets dip into a little slide.

Speaking of which, my brother-in-law, after hollering at me and lumping me in with the Township's most ridiculous element last week, conceded my point this morning: "OK, maybe Delgado should be dropped down in the lineup. Have a bad feeling a team batting slump is about to occur."

I refuse to write any more about Delgado: the big boys have begun doing that for me. One thing of note: see the lead segment in this Times piece and then read the item three sections down the list. I'm not suggesting that Bobby Cox needs to be blindly mimicked. Food for thought, that's all.

Crap end to a great day. Can't stay down, though -- the weather is just as good today, I have just as few obligations, and in baseball, redemption avails itself five nights a week.