Sunday, April 19, 2009

Dr. Seuss

Games 10 & 11 - Mets

Mets 5, Brewers 4
Mets 1, Brewers 0
Record: 6-5

The Mets have pulled off a pair of impressive wins after I inspired the club with a Morris Buttermaker special to close my last post. I might have to dust off the DVD and dredge up some of his other rallying cries. In the meantime, the seasonable manufacturization of crucial runs late in the game to go alongside stalwart pitching performances . . . well, that there's a recipe for good times.

Of course, quite naturally, I saw neither of the past two games in real time. I recorded Friday night's action, then foolishly stayed up to watch. I peeked and knew the final score early, then cursed my DVR skills as the recording stopped with the game tied in the 8th. Poor play all around for this kid.

And then yesterday, what with it being a Saturday afternoon game and thanks to Rupert (Murdoch, not Holmes) and his empire of blackout (apparently this expression isn't reserved for my Friday night roundabouts), I was precluded from seeing any of it. I was left to witness my own dominance over Red Stripes instead of Johan Santana's mastery of Milwaukee's best. (I did tune in to the tail end of the Bombers game, can't-look-away train wreck style.)

But come 1:10 PM today, I'll be eschewing the bright, beautiful sunny afternoon here in southeastern VA for the couch and Game 3 of the series. Half-Nelson Figueroa is up in lieu of Pelfrey, and he's going against . . .

. . .

. . . Jeff Suppan. I do not like that Jeff Suppan.

I could not, would not, on a boat.
I will not, will not, with a goat.
I would not like him in the rain.
I would not like him on a train.
Not in the dark! Not in a tree!
Not in a car! You let me be!
I do not like him in a box.
I do not like him with a fox.
I do not like him in a house.
I do not like him with a mouse.
I do not like him here or there.
I do not like him ANYWHERE!

I do not like
that Jeff Suppan!

Oh, here's hoping my post-traumatic stress disorder doesn't come rushing back with images of a certain 2006 autumn night. That venue has vanished into the ether by now, but the memories were apparently constructed of a more permanent material.

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