Not even the 3am goading of Jason Cohen could coax me into writing/pasting/whatever about the Phillies/Mets 13 inning, 5 1/2 hour marathon Tuesday evening/Wednesday morning. The visitors’ inability to maintain a 7 run lead in the same venue where they nearly blew a 9 run advantage several weeks ago might not have been the first such Mets collapse of the season, but given the circumstances — after September 7, New York and Philly will not face each other again this regular season — this was as painful a choke job as anything short of submitting to Hacksaw Duggan’s old weed car pool buddy.

Of course, these are the Schizo Mets we’re talking about. And with all due respect to the Phillies’ penchant for taking a punch in the teeth Tuesday and coming back strong — with 10 innings of shutout relief work, no less, before Scott Schoeneweis nearly walked Brett Fucking Myers to end the game — the Mets proved Wednesday evening that they too, have some Chuck Wepner tendencies deep-down-inside (aside from serving as punching bags and bleeding profusely).

Skipper Jerry Manuel, also given to lame boxing analogies, described the 6-3 comeback victory as akin to “throwing a roundhouse left”, and the southpaws in this case would be Carlos Delgado (HR’s no. 29 and 30, 3 RBI’s) and Daniel (Ballgame) Murphy, whose 2-run double off Brad Lidge in the 8th broke a 3-3 deadlock.  But no small tribute oughta be aimed at the embattled (sufficient code for “godawful”) Mets relief corps, the unlikely quartet of Stokes, Feliciano, Smith and Ayala combining to throw three scoreless innings of relief after it looked as Johan Santana (106 pitches, 6 IP, 3 runs, 5 hits, 6 K’s, HR’s allowed to Ryan Howard and Jayson Werth) would once again be penalized for anything less than perfection.

Will the real Mets please stand up?  Chances are, after 104 games, we have a pretty good idea of their deep flaws, but we’re also left to marvel at Delgado’s career revival.. or David Wright’s knack for throwing out a runner at first while falling backwards towards the left-field line box seats.   It’s not as though this crop of Metropolitans has denied us acts of heroism, but all too often, said performances have occured slightly before or after a meltdown achingly similar to Tuesday’s capitulation.