Game 82 - Mets, I guess
Rockies 11, Mets 3
Yikes. A mile high and crushed, it's the Mets once again last night. And every other pitch Jason Vargas chucked. And Joe Smith's "obstetrician's nightmare" (the granny-inducer). And Rob's and my friend Redeye, but that's another story.
Not much to say about the offense. Again. The desert wind has invigorated the Metbats in recent years the way the altitudinous air of Colorado has not, and I'm solving that riddle as well as the Mets solved another pitcher with a less-than-impressive track record. Aaron Cook's quality start stood in stark contrast to the premature 4th of July Roman Candle that was Vargas's start. Just swell.
Most annoying? I'm struggling for one of my pseudo-clever, snide nicknames for Jason Vargas. I have gone with a too-obscure Seinfeldian reference ("Vargas!!") once or twice before; while it's fun to say with a fist-swoop during games when he leaves one up and over the plate, it's not much in print.
Taking obscure to a whole new level, here's what goes through my creaky brain when I try to get clever with his surname, a la Jaime "Thank You" Cerda "May I Have Another" or even just Kaz "Door" Matsui -- whose quintet of base hits last night hurt more than a little. When I was in Hungary about 15 years ago, I bought a cassette of covers of classic 70's songs by Hungarian artists. To my delight, I realized at first listen that they had translated all of the words into Hungarian as well. Terrifically terrible. First track: "Stayin' Alive," aka "Valaki vár." As in, "Ah, ah, ah, ah, Valaki vár, Valaki vár." Kept our group in bewildered stitches one night over many Arany Ászok beers. Anyway, the only reason I dedge up that uninteresting inside information is to explain that I keep getting hung up on Jason "Valaki" Vargas, further worthless because clearly he isn't stayin' alive in the least. Hence, no good monikers -- and I know I need to act fast on this guy.
On that note, let's diverge from all things Mettish, since they aren't worth watching beyond the third or fourth inning this series and there's plenty else to celebrate today. Enjoy a little relevant rock & roll lyricism below, and if you can manage to find something that relates to this week's Mets in the words . . . well, you haven't exactly discovered the cure for cancer, or even found Waldo.
"Sandy the fireworks are hailin' over Little Eden tonight
Forcin' a light into all those stoned-out faces left stranded on this Fourth of July"
"Today's the fourth of July
another June has gone by
and when they light up our town I just think
what a waste of gunpowder and sky"
"Well Papa go to bed now it's getting late
Nothing we can say can change anything now
Because there's just different people coming down here now
and they see things in different ways
And soon everything we've known will just be swept away
So say goodbye it's Independence Day
But now I know the things you wanted that you could not say
But won't you just say goodbye it's Independence Day
I swear I never meant to take those things away"
When a nation cries
His tears fall down like missiles from the skies
Justice look into independence’s eyes
Can you make everything alright
Can you keep your nation warm tonight
Roll a rock across the country
Everybody come along
When you’re feelin’ down, yeah yeah
Just sing this song, yeah yeah"
"What ever happened, I apologize
so dry your tears and baby
walk outside, it's the Fourth of July
On the stairs I smoke a cigarette alone
Mexican kids are shootin' fireworks below
Hey baby, it's the Fourth of July
Hey baby, baby, take a walk [on a pitch] outside"
Happy Birthday, US of A.
(Wake up, New York Mets.)