And...

...the blog won't end here. Every once in awhile, when I get the chance, I will break down the season, the players, and provide the evidence for why each and every man wearing a Mess jersey should be fired.

...I won't follow the postseason.

...the Mess will never get another dollar from me.

I'm done

The worst result happened tonight.

But you already know that.

I try to keep the swearing to a minimum, but not right now.

Fuck them all to fuck, I say. Fire everyone. Start the Brooklyn Cyclones as the New Mets to christen the new ballpark.

Dog days

A few things:

1. Staten Island. - I visited my hometown from the 17th to the 24th. During that span, the Mess pulled some real bullshit. Exhibit A is on the right. Jason Marquis is from Staten Island, hates the Mess, and exacted his revenge. Currently, I don't disagree. Also, I might've mentioned this before, and I will again, the Mess have once again given someone his first, and if we look at our list, I think the Mess gave the last 3 pitchers to hit slams their first each. (I'd have to check the stats on Dontrelle, that homer hitting machine.)

I need to also say this: I've been keeping this blog catching pieces of games. Just enough to know what's going on. I'm a busy guy not getting paid to write this stuff. I watched the Mess lose Wednesday night from the (dis)comfort of my JetBlue seat. It was the first full game I watched this season. This happenstance leads me to

2. No clutch. Tonight Beltran won for us in the 9th. It's about time you with your excellent defensive effort (EDE) but looking-at-strike-three all too often. But, wtf about last night, David Wright? A man on third with no outs in a tied game in the bottom of the ninth. How about a bunt? No one would've seen it coming, and no one would've thought less of you, David, because you would've been the hero we've been waiting for since Darryl and Keith and Ray and Mookie and... back to

1. Staten Island. - I had some good pizza and White Castle. I caught some games on the idiot box. I spent most of my time not doing so because the Mess were going through a nice 5-5 span over ten games. Real nice.

3. I don't like losing. - I extend this to people with whom I associate. There are three games left. Three games we need to win like Italy needed that guy to make that penalty shot in the '94 World Cup, and, although he was the country's hero, he quickly cemented himself as the lame goat who shouldn't've been there because he was gimpy. The Mess are 9-6 against the Fishies. The Brewers are 5-8 against the Cubs. The Cubs are happy to split with the Mess. The Mess are happy to split with the Cubs, even though they should be f'ing pissed, full of murderous rage and ready to eat lightning and crap thunder (if it's even appropriate to reference Rocky when talking about the Mess).

4. Contract the Expos. - Awhile back, my friends, including Joe_bu, and I went on a baseball road trip during that messy time when we almost lost a professional baseball team or two to contraction. We went to Pittsburgh to see the Pirates beat the Brewers in the bottom of the ninth on our way to see the Mess beat the Indians and White Sox in consecutive games. I sat next to a girl who had less than half of her natural teeth who was from Milwaukee and rooting for her team. We had giant posters that stated, "Hey Bud, contract the Mets!" The cameras never picked our posters for broadcast. I've digressed. I've never rooted for the Nationals as hard as I will for these next three games, not even the last three games of last year, and that was the hardest rooting I've ever done for any team not named Mess or New York Football Giants.

5. Scheduling algorithm? - Slay the computers and people who make the MLB schedules. They should just take one look and say, "Hey, these teams are playing the same teams to finish off this season as last. Maybe we should change that." They didn't.

6. Uniform. - I am the proud new owner of a Mess jersey that reads "ABORT" as the last name. Soon enough, all the contributors to this blog will each have their own.

The circle is now complete.

I don't really know who reads this site. Maybe just its authors? Or maybe the Force is real, and there's a Death Star looming around, and a certain Tie-Fighter made it's way to Washington, D.C.

Eleven days ago, I looked at the Mess' upcoming schedule and saw that we had to face Darth Vader tonight, and that our playoffs hopes were dashed.

You might remember my post about prognostication. You might read it soon. Or never.

What you will remember is the night the Mess lost 1 - 0 to the worst team in the National League.

Hall of Fame-bound
Odalis Perez
on the mound.

I'm also a member of a poetry blog. bandersnatchery.blogspot.com.

playoffs pitching playoffs pitching playoffs pitching...

Hmm.

Hrm..

Groan...

NO!!!!!!

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!11!!!!!!1!!!

If we make it to the postseason, we might all, as die-hard fans (not Die Hard fans, but maybe some of us are, yippie ki yay) make these same noises, as what happened at the end of Sunday's game... as I did so vigorously, aided my my megaphone, at the end of the Mess' World Series bid against Yadier Molina some time ago.

We don't even really have a focus for our rage and scapegoating. No Heart Attack Johnny. No I'm-Gonna-Bang-This-Baseball-Against-My-Cup- To-Show-You-What-A-Man-I-Am Armando (I should've always been an 8th inning setup man) Benitez. We have to yell at a bunch of guys all at once. I'm glad I have a megaphone.

make or break? try? no...do or do not.

I was going to talk about the Mess v. Philthies.

Then I saw this:


The Mess have to face Darth Vader... on the road. That's it - our playoffs hopes are dashed.