(Todd Jones, shown touching Paul Lo Duca on Saturday afternoon. Please note that these men are not married to each other. Also note that Jones will now turn up in Google in the same search result as “boner”).
Carlos Beltran is getting his share of grief for not busting it down the line on his 3rd inning popup (one that the savvy, America-hating Carlos Delgado allowed to drop, starting a 3-6-3 DP), but this was an isolated incident. Not to excuse Beltran’s mistake, but a guy who gives up his body in CF as often as the Mets’ most pricey free agent acquisition isn’t lacking for effort. I’d be pretty surprised if this happened twice.
I’m not sure we can say the same of Jose Offerman’s failure in the 6th inning to catch a routine throw to first. Incredibly, a year after the Mets determined that neither Mike Piazza nor Jason Phillips were competent at the position (and rightly so), New York is reduced to using Offerman in games that count.
If Miguel Cairo had reached base after swinging at the first pitch he saw from Valerio Del Santos in the 6th inning with the bases loaded and one out, I’d probably be singing a different tune — perhaps Drunks With Guns’ “Wonderful Subdivision”. Instead, Cairo bounced into an inning-ending double play, this after being out of the lineup for more than two weeks.
I actually heard a radio commentator employed by a supposed news organization predicting that DC’s Chad Cordero would “come back to earth” in the season’s 2nd half. I certainly hope so, because he’s the worst thing to happen to baseball caps since the Roman Company disappeared.
The Fish Stripes crew probably think they’re all hot shit, what with Florida getting lucky today while they had their “special day” at Shea Stadium. Big deal. While some of us were GLUED to the TV all day long having our consciousness raised by Bono, Bob Geldof and uh, Jimmy Smits, these self-centered, gratification junkies were running roughshod over NYC. The party’s over, dudes. Tomorrow is CSTB Day at Shea Stadium, an OFFICIAL promotion that the club has chosen to mark by giving away intensely patriotic hats (that Chad Cordero, would no doubt, choose to wear in the most horrible way possible, were we to send him one) and Willie Randolph’s charges will no doubt commemorate the event by giving the D-Train the beating of his young life. This Is Flushing, Not Fort Lauderdale.