Build Me Up Buttercup

Dear Lou-

Why do you build me up (build me up)

Buttercup, baby

Just to let me down (let me down) and mess me around

And then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby

When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still

I need you (I need you) more than anyone, darlin'

I know you gotta manage your club according to your own best interests but it was downright brutal watching a bunch of September call-ups march to the plate with runners on, inning after inning, against the dilapidated Mets bullpen in the torrential downpour. (By the way, does no one at MLB HQ get the Weather Channel? Why didn't they just move that game up to 3:30PM instead of playing in those conditions? Really?)

It was not so obvious to me last night what your motives were but now, thanks to the great baseball minds of Mike Greenberg and Mike Golic (that's sarcasm, of course) it has dawned on me that you want to play these Mets next week. And why not? If the Mets make it in, Johann can't go until Game 3 most likely. This beats playing those Dodgers who will have their rotation perfectly lined up and really, who wants to see Manny right now?

OK, Lou you got your wish and handed the Mets the game last night. How about disposing of the Brew Crew? Unless of course, your aim is to keep us out.

Chicken shit.

Heroes

Game 159 - Mets

Mets 7, Cubs (ss) 6
Record: 88-71
1 GB PHL in NL East, Tied with MIL for Wild Card


Just when I thought you couldn't get any more inept at this game, you go and do something like this . . . and totally redeem yourself!

Ah, to be able to borrow from Harry Dunn in the afterglow of an enormous Met victory last night on a Friday morning when the sun's peeking out from behind the clouds in South Hampton Roads . . . life is good. Could this weekend mangle the pleasantness of this moment beyond all recognition and recall? You betcha, but until that happens, let's bask in one night's comeback heroics.

A game ball goes to David Wright, who fanned AGAIN with Reyes on the basepaths as the winning run in the ninth inning. He gets the game ball for not grounding into an inning-ending double play. Honestly, these days, with him up and the game on the line, this is a reasonably positive result.

Another game ball goes to Daniel Murphy, who struck out right before D-W by trying to bunt with two strikes. If you listened carefully at that moment in any of the five boroughs, you would have heard an unmistakable, unanimous utterance by the entirety of Mets Township. For the kiddies who frolic about these pages, we'll leave out the gory details of the utterance, but let's just say it rhymes with well-known hunter's expression "Gut the duck." No worries, Danny Boy, an honest mistake by a young talent for whom the art of bunting looks a lot like one of Jackson Pollock's throwaways. Go get 'em next time.

And the biggest game ball -- the elephantitic game ball, I suppose -- goes to Ricardo Rincon. You know, I was amused but startled the other day when Peter Gammons delivered an unprovoked potshot by remarking with a chuckle that John Maine might be the answer in the Mets' pen because "the answer sure isn't guys like Ricardo Rincon." Peter, my good man, I tip my cap. Rincon's magic show where he made two baserunners vanish with just one pitch was more than we could bear, or so we thought. Honestly, boys . . .

And what of Micah Hoffpauir, the guy who hit that crushing three run blast? It was his 2nd career HR -- because Pedro grooved one for his 1st in the first. Nice. I tell you, with all the distractions kids have today with their video games and cell phones and what-not, I think Micah Hoffpauir is Exhibit A that the next untapped market for baseball talent is Amish country. Goodbye, Santo Domingo; hello, Lancaster.

In truth, though Hoffpauir did provide the pauir (sic) (terrible), his non-Derrek Lee glovework also helped the first and final Met runs get plated. Big thanks to Lou Piniella for his split-squad lineup. But I'll speak well of you forever, Sweet Lou, if you get those regulars back in there against the Brewers this weekend . . .

And finally, a sincere game ball goes to Ryan Church for the most elusive home plate slide dodge, dart, and dive I've ever seen. There's no way in the world he should have scored the tying run in the eighth, but he managed it. Doing the little things will make up for some shortcomings along the way, boys, but coming up with amazing plays like that will save the day.

Oh, and I was about to toast Mr. Church and say I would drink one for him, but last night was the first time in recent memory that I didn't throw back a few beers while taking in the Mets game. And it worked, against some serious odds, so we might have to revisit this strange new place called Sobriety for tonight's game. We'll see.

3 to go against the Fish. A game back to the Phils, tied for the Wild Card. Take a breath, boys.

It's a phrase used flippantly all the time, but this is what it's all about.

Under Pressure

And now, we discuss the curious case of Brett Myers.

I am honestly at a loss here. My gut instinct is to go Dallas Green on this guy and start questioning his testicular fortitude. I thought of doing the math on what the Phillies are getting for the $8.5 million they are giving to this guy but if he is not putting the effort in, why should I. All I know is that he has 10 wins in his 30 starts. I guess the math is pretty simple on that - $850K per win. The Phillies have won just 12 of those 30 starts. In 10 of those starts, Brett never made it past the 5th inning. The last two games - games in the final 10 games of the season battling the Mets for first place - Brett couldn't finish the 5th inning.

I could slice and dice this team a million ways to explain why it is they fell short of J-Roll's prediction of 100 wins this season. No excuse I can devise is as easy to declare as it is to point the dreaded finger of blame on Brett Myers. He was the opening day starter. I bet no opening day starter (at least no one from teams that were considered contenders) has fewer wins than Myers. To his credit, he manned up and accepted his demotion in July to Allentown with dignity and a sense of purpose. He emerged as a dominant pitcher worthy of the label "staff ace" for the month of August when he went 4 and 1 with a 1.65 ERA.

Since then, however, he has returned to his hideous form from April to July. Maybe he's ailing. Maybe there's trouble on the home front. Who knows? Point is, people scoffed at Rollins bold prediction back before the season began. How was Jimmy to know the staff ace would implode?

I Would Do Anything for Love

Game 159 - Phillies

Braves 10, Phillies 4

Record 89 wins 70 losses, 1st place 1.5 games ahead of NYM by the grace of Lou.

I love this man. I love his team. Can I ask one more favor of them? Just a tiny, tiny favor? I swear I won't expect anything less than their best effort should we meet in October.

You Can't Do That on Television

Game 158 - Mets

Cubs 9, Mets 6 (10 inn.)
Record: 87-71

"What doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

-- Nietzsche

"I am, I am, I am Superman."

-- The Clique (as covered by Berry/Buck/Mills/Stipe)

. . . and I'm actually not so sure this isn't killing me. Dale hasn't brewed enough Pale Ales to create a salve for games like last night's, but I tried like hell to wash it away with some of the fine brew, anyway. Alas, here I am on a nasty, rainy, Thursday morning with full recollection of this debacle and a hefty headache.

In Mel Brooks' The Producers, a couple of down-on-their-luck fellows try to come up with a sure-fire Broadway flop, one so hideously terrible that it'll send the audience running for the door immediately, thereby enabling the duo to pocket the investment money. I ask you, the Mets' viewing audience, is there anything in "Springtime for Hitler" more horrifyingly offensive, more purely gut-wrenching, more run-for-the-door-awful than what we're witnessing on a nightly basis???

David Wright. He's the heterosexual Alex Rodriguez. Bottom 9, Daniel Murphy triples (!) to lead off the inning. The game is over. Done. A base hit past the drawn-in infield, an error, a scratch infield single, a wild pitch, a passed ball, even a friggin' medium-deep fly ball ends the game. The David Wright of pre-'06 shortens his swing, goes with a pitch, lines it into right field, and calls it a night. The superstar David Wright with the pull power swing gets a 3-0 count, then rears back and attempts to wallop three straight pitches, pulling a Mighty Casey in the process.

Jose Reyes. He hits for mammoth average in the team's wins and well below the Medoza Line in the team's losses. Yeah, yeah, as Jose goes, so go the Mets. You know what it also means? In just about every one of these grueling, punt-in-the-groin losses, Jose Reyes failed to come through when we desperately needed him. You guys are making Beltran look clutch.

Carlos Delgado seems to be the only guy with a sense of the import of these moments. Well, Carlos and Murphy. (Carlos Murphy's was a popular restaurant in my hometown in the 1980's. The Mexican-Irish restaurant-pub used to be all the rage back then; is this phenomenon still around? . . . Because Carlos Murphy's is not.)

At some point the residents of Mets Township are going to end up like a dog that's been beat too much. There's a breaking point somewhere not too far away, but it's not here yet. Even as I try to will this rainstorm northward so as to wash out Pedro Martinez getting pummeled by the Cubs tonight, I am hanging in there, stoically repeating Kevin Bacon's refrain through watery eyes . . . "Thank you sir, may I have another?"

Last Car to Elysian Fields

Game 157 - Red Sox

Red Sox 5, Indians 4

Record: 92-65

3 GB Tampa Bay, Clinched Playoff Berth

For the fifth time in six years, the Red Sox will be playing postseason baseball. Anyone that tells you the clinching celebration has lost some luster is either lying or spoiled beyond the ability to revel in the whimsical beauty of Happy Jonathan Papelbon.

Every baseball season is designed to make you forget the last one. The duration of the season and daily nature of the game creates a volume of memories that necessarily push last year and the year before that and the year before that further and further into the recesses of the mind. So even as the Sox boast two World Series championships in the past five years, the moment of clinching remains a singularly cathartic event, standing on its own as a joyous marker of a job well done.

And as always, the Sox celebrated with appropriate abandon. My favorite picture in a collection of smile-inducing shots is this one of Sean Casey, because it's symbolic of how the Sox did things this year. No single player - with the possible exceptions of Dustin Pedroia and Jon Lester - vastly overperformed expectations. The Sox have no superstars in 2008, especially since Manny winged his way westward. Instead, a bunch of good to very good players leaned on each other and went to work. They're not exactly egoless, but this squad has a distinct lack of me-first ethic. And the Mayor's as good a representative of that spirit as anyone.

How do I think they'll do in the playoffs? Who the hell knows? As we've stated ad nauseum, or at least ad makeyoustopreadingium, the postseason's a crapshoot. The Sox have as good a chance as anyone else, even if they have to go through Anaheim in the ALDS. I seem to recall that the 2004 squad faced a similar task.

No, No, Nanette

Game 158 - Phillies

Braves 3, Phils 2

Record 89 wins, 69 losses - 1st place 1.5 games ahead of NYM.

I won't do it.

I am not going to do it.

No.

I will not dump on this team for wasting a good start by the their young ace.

The Phils are 15 and 7 in September.

They are 32 and 20 since August 1st.

They are 39 and 25 since the All-Star break.

Last night was a very winnable game and gee, it sure would have been nice to all but wrap up a playoff spot being 3.5 games up on Milwaukee with only 4 games to play - all at home (with the final 3 against the Nats.)

Still, as I took my post game(s) shower, I was trying to beat back the negativity that was slowly fouling my mood. I kept reminding myself that the odds are still very much in our favor and that despite the indecipherable Coolstandings explainer, it appears the Phils still have a 98.9% chance of making the playoffs according to the geniuses at ESPN.COM. I don't care why that is, I just pray that it is.

A win tonight would go a long way to making me breathe easier. Brett Myers takes the hill against JoJo "was a man who thought he was a loner" Reyes.

Please Brett, return to your post-Allentown efforts. The ones which reduced your ERA from 5.84 to 4.06 in 12 starts. Do not give us a repeat performance of your last start in Florida where you undid all that good work by surrendering 10 earned runs in 4 innings jacking your ERA back up to a mediocre 4.46!

To the stickmen: Patience. You are facing a 3 and 11 pitcher with a 5.74 ERA. That includes an 0 and 2 record, 7.56 ERA against you this season. Take your time and make him pitch. Tack up 6 before he exits in the 3rd and give Brett some help.

Now go out there and be careful!

Mystery Science Theater 3000

Games 153 through 157 - Mets

Mets 9, Braves 5
Braves 4, Mets 2
Braves 7, Mets 6
Cubs 9, Mets 5
Mets 6, Cubs 2
Record: 87-70

Omar Minaya is rewarded with a four-year extension. Just as some folks in the Township are taking the first four words of that last sentence and replacing the "w" with a "t". Just as the Mets are a few more bad losses away from blowing a second straight golden opportunity for the postseason under his authority. Why? Johan Santana, of course. He landed Santana last winter, and that's arugably the only reason we're still tuning in at this point.

It's debatable whether Omar should benefit from one great move when there remain other gaps that hamstring the team's chances on a nightly basis, gaps that existed last winter (bullpen, 2B) and are problematic once again. That's a discussion for this winter, however. Right now we're smack dab in the middle of the playoff race we always wanted. And it's excruciating.

At one point last night all three games that mattered (to me) sat at 3-2, good guys. And there I sat, dead sure that they'd all three go awry. Thanks to Santana, Jose Reyes, and a few other Metmen, 3-2 became 6-2 in the game that mattered most. Didn't breathe easily until the final out was recorded, thank you Pedro Feliciano, but a win is a win.

Meanwhile, the league of extraordinary gentlemen know as the Atlanta Braves baseball franchise managed to play well enough to take their third contest of the season from the Phillies (in 17 tries). Many thanks, good sirs. Rinse, repeat, if you would.

So far it's coming down to Johan Santana. If you saw his at-bat in the 5th that led to the tying runs being plated, you know that he is doing it on the hill, in the batter's box, and with the hoodoo voodoo. But as an active participant but once every five days, it will not be enough unless the well-established leaders among the everyday players on the squad can reverse the trend of the puckering that's gone on for two straight Septembers and find a way.

Find a way.

And Now for Something Completely Different

Erudition has never been our strong suit, but I'm heading lower than even we usually go. I hope to be back later with a more thorough exposition of my feelings on this fine, sunny, glorious morning, but I'd like to get this heartfelt and entirely immature sentiment on the record:

Suck it, Yankees! Enjoy watching eight other teams in October.

Man, that's been a long time coming.

Fresh Kills

Game 156 - Red Sox

Indians 4, Red Sox 3

Record: 91-65

2.5 GB Tampa Bay in AL East, 6 GA NYY in Wild Card

Yesterday in the comments section I was asked a question about the Sox' postseason alignment. Today, after watching the Sox lose a game at home with their "big-game" pitcher on the mound facing a rookie with a nearly 6.00 ERA, that question seems to border on the ludicrous.

I guess it would be useful for me to gain some perspective - I could be a Mets fan, after all - but there's something...just...a...little...off about the Sox right now. They're giving off a faint whiff of 2005 as the season closes. Let's hope a clinch today gives them a chance to spray some Febreze around the old ballyard.

Intervention

Game 157 - Phillies

Phillies 6, Braves 2

Record: 89 wins, 68 losses - 1st place, 2.5 games ahead of NYM.

Every addict needs an enabler.

The Atlanta Braves fill that role for the herky-jerky Phillies who spend each day jonesing for their next fix. It will no doubt piss Mr. Lester off considerably that Bobby Cox rested Larry Jones and Brian McCann until the Phillies vaulted ahead 6 to 2 on the strength of Pat Burrell's 3 run shot in the 8th. Enter Jones in the 9th in a pinch hit role. Ol' Chipper slapped a single. Next Cox sends up Brian McCann to pinch hit for Julian Tavarez who had just served up the homer to Burrel. McCann doubles.

Its important to point out two things.

First, Jones and McCann own the Phillies this year. I think they own them every year. Thus far this season, Jones sports a .424. BA with 5 doubles, 3 homers and a 1.444 OPS against Phillies pitchers. McCann, has been even more cruel. He's battered Phils pitching for 6 doubles, 3 home runs, 16 RBI and a 1.108 OPS.

Second, by virtue of the Phillies 6 - 2 lead (as opposed to a 2-2 tie or worse,) the damage done by Jones and McCann was easily weathered by Phils closer for the evening Ryan Madson who was spelling the fatigued Brad Lidge.

Thank you Bobby Cox. We really needed this one baaaaaaaaddddddddd!

You want a spin on the NL East Race? The Mets went 7 and 11 vs. the Braves. The Phillies are now inexplicably 14 and 2. There's your story. Print it.

Farewell Waltz

Games 153 through 155 – Red Sox

Red Sox 4, Blue Jays 3
Blue Jays 6, Red Sox 3
Red Sox 3, Blue Jays 0
Record: 91-64
1.5 GB Tampa in AL East, 6.5 GA NYY in Wild Card

Friends, Romans, Marylanders, I come here not to bury Yankee Stadium, but to praise it.

There’s nothing in all of sports like an October Yankee Stadium crowd in full throat. It sounds like postseason baseball, with all its anticipation, exhilaration, and expectation. It’s neurotic and arrogant at the same time, a lot like the City itself. It’s an all-encompassing wall of noise that I hated and envied at the same time for too many years. It’s the soundtrack of the postseason.

The only more perfect postseason sound I’ve ever heard was the amplified clang of Mark Bellhorn’s homerun in the 7th game of the 2004 ALCS, signaling the death knell of the Curse of the Bambino.

Because for a Red Sox fan, the only sound more spine-tingling than a screaming Yankee Stadium crowd is one rendered dead silent.

I’ve only been to the big ballpark in the Bronx once, and that was a meaningless mid-summer contest against the Brewers back when the Milwaukee Nine were still American Leaguers and the Yankees had yet to commence their recent (and far, far too lengthy) resurgence. Needless to say, I didn’t get the full Monty. Nonetheless, despite the relative insignificance of the event, the historian in me reveled in the scene, even as the partisan in me fought to contain vague feelings of discomfort. The yard itself was nothing special, but the ghosts were real.

Meanwhile, back in Boston, the Sox find themselves needing to win but a single game in their next seven to advance to the playoffs for the fifth time in six seasons. How ‘bout we keep the drama to a minimum, eh?

September

Games 151 through 156 – Phillies

Phils 8, Braves 7
Phils 6, Braves 1
Phils 4, Braves 3
Marlins 14, Phils 8
Phils 3, Marlins 2
Phils 5, Marlins 2
Record: 88 wins, 68 losses – 1st place, 1.5 games ahead of NYM

Do you remember the 21st night of September?
Love was changing the minds of pretenders
While chasing the clouds away

Wow. It’s been rare lo these past 2 decades or so, that I enjoyed a September weekend like this.

To wit (not Whit), on a sunny Saturday afternoon in front of their usual 100 K + faithful fans, the mighty, mighty Nittany Lions vanquished their beleaguered little brothers from Temple by a count of 45 to 3. This closes out Penn State’s rather unchallenging non-conference schedule with the Nits rolling up 211 points to their overmatched opponents’ measly 40. While it’s technically true the boys in blue and white faced 3 teams that are Division 1A…excuse me Bowl Championship Division and one Playoff Division (formerly 1 double A) team, in reality, they faced a sorry bunch of teams that gave Penn State no reason to work up a sweat and so Nitwits are left wondering just how good are these boys? Nice problem to have as the Fightin’ Illini roll into Happy Valley this weekend for a prime time game on ABC.

The biggest surprise of my sports weekend – and the game which made it so special – was the Miami Dolphins’ thorough thrashing of the vaunted New England Patriots. The Dolphins now have the distinction of having bookended the Pats 21 game regular season win streak. This is very likely a mere blip on what promises to be a rather uneventful radar screen in Year 1 of the Parcells Miami Project but if feels good to stick it to those bastards! I can only hope it reminds the Pats that in Perfectville, the population is still only 1.

Oh, lest I forget, this is a baseball blog. The Phillies! Hooray!

Friday night gave me some chills. Brett Myers gave up 10 runs in a loss (obviously) to the Marlins in Hollywood, F-L-A. I was a wee bit nervous as the day wore on Saturday worrying that all that mo we picked up in the past week would be lost in soupy South Florida. The bullpen came to the rescue however. The boys gutted out two tough contests against a Marlins team that has battled all year and to its credit, was still trying to make a difference in the NL East race. The Phillies seemed to have once again recaptured that September mojo they have so frequently channeled these past 3 or 4 years. Today’s Philly Inq. informs me that since Charlie Manuel took the helm in 2005, the Phils are 65 and 40 in September.

So all my teams did well. Most importantly, the Phils have continued to roll and it looks like everyone is pitching in. I have watched clutch homers fly off the bat of the slumping Pat Burrell, the light hitting Carlos Ruiz and the mystifyingly powerless Pedro Feliz. I have witnessed a fatigued old man trot out 6 innings in less than comfortable conditions and a skinny kid willing his body to pitch more innings than he has ever had too in his young career. I also have been impressed that a closer long ago given up for dead has resurrected his career and once again turned the 9th inning into a formality by saving every one of his 40 save opportunities.

6 games to go. If we can take 4 from the Braves and Nats at home, that should give us the division. It will definitely give us the Wild Card.

Ba de ya - say do you remember
Ba de ya - dancing in September
Ba de ya - golden dreams were shiny days

Scrubs

Games 151 & 152 - Mets

Mets 9, Nationals 7
Mets 7, Nationals 2
Record: 85-67
½ GB PHL in the NL East, 1½ GA MIL for Wild Card

Ten to play, just on the outside looking in for the division, just on the inside looking out for the Wild Card. It was about time the Mets starting knocking off the Nats. Only in Game 4 of the series did they do so in convincing fashion, but wins is wins.

To borrow from an old SNL sketch called "The Ref Pitman Show":

Yeah, I just wanted to invite the Atlanta Braves to have sex with themselves. Because that's something, you know, that, as far as I'm concerned, they can go and do.

Here's to you assclowns for lying down and dying in front of the Philadelphia Phillies after stealing a pair against the Mets. May your feeble attempts to be proficient in your purported profession continue throughout the weekend.

Down a Tatis, down an Easley, looking to reclaim a Maine by next week. The Brew Crew has a pitifully easy week ahead. The Phils have the Miami-hot Marlins and the aforementioned crapathetic Braves.

Hang in there, men. Gotta play 'em one day at a time. Give it your best shot and, Good Lord willing, things'll work out.



[almost out the door, returns for a potshot...]



Hey, Bobby Cox, you douchebuckle, your Expected W-L is six games better than what you've accomplished. Don't you dare rectify that over the weekend. Thanks for nothing, Braves, you pantloads.

We All Fall Down

Game 152 - Red Sox

Rays 10, Red Sox 3

Record: 89-53

Thud.

And with that, the Sox are playing for the Wild Card. Up 7 games with 10 to play and the happy haunts of 2004 remind us that the 4th playoff slot is by no means a death sentence. (Though the ghastly ghouls of 2006 have a counter-argument.) This uninformed but not unopinionated observer says the Sox should take the next 10 days to rest those that need rest and prepare for the Angels.