After the Mets’ 4-3 loss to Philly Friday night, I made my way back into Lower Manhattan and sought refuge in an undistinguished tavern. Hoping to medicate myself after the sorry events of the day just concluded, my attention was drawn by the 2nd half of the Giants/Jets annual preseason finale, a plodding enounter that ended with an unimpressive 13-7 scoreline in favor of Big Blue.

Watching this exhibition brought me to the first half of the prior decade. A band I was playing in had a Saturday evening show at CBGB, but we nearly had to skip our 11pm set, as our drummer, the noted painter and sculptor Harry Druzd (above), had lost track of time while watching the Giants and Jets do battle on his home television.

I was nearly apoplectic with rage. How could Harry risk disappointing the nearly two dozen persons in attendence just for the sake of the most meaningless event on the sporting calendar?

As the years have gone by, however, I’ve come ’round to Harry’s way of thinking. There are no meaningless games. In every competitive situation lies the potential for that one transcendent moment, a rare slice of artistic brilliance amidst a sea of mediocrity.

There were no such moments during last night’s telecast. Though the countless shots of Eric Mangini holding back the tears were pretty entertaining. (And I did miss the first half. )

I should also mention that Harry once caught an earful of verbal aggro from fellow MSG patrons when he refused to stand for “The Star Spangled Banner” at a Knicks game. This was the sort of civil disobedience that blazed a trail for Carlos Delgado.