Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Incredibly, Jose Conseco’s Credibility has Taken a Hit

“Here’s something you probably don’t know about Roger Clemens: He’s one of very few baseball players I know who never cheated on his wife. I was amazed by him, to be honest. His wife should be very proud of him.”

So…does this mean that Jose Conseco never actually had any idea what he was talking about?

Having an affair with a fifteen-year old when you are twenty eight (and married with two children, if you want to do the whole bourgeoisie morality thing) is the sort of shit that people generally go the hell to jail for. So for a bit there I was a little disappointed in the ol’ Rocket.

But it just might be mathematically impossible to be white trash-ier than Mindy Mccready. Her resume includes being a country singer (with titles as diverse as “Ten Thousand Angels” and “Guys do it all the time”), being an oxycontin addict (hillbilly heroin, Rush Limbaugh’s drug of choice), a weird incident in 2005 that might have been an attempt on he part to unmask a con-artist and might have been her stealing some dude’s truck (there is weirdly little information about this on the internet), and beating up her mother. So I kinda give Clemens props, in a satisfying episode of the Springer Show sort of way.

If you want to take a moment and actually (shudder) analyze Jose Conseco, you are compelled to realize that he has some very weird issues with Roger Clemens. In Juiced, after making his claim about Clemens’s fidelity, he goes on to broadly imply that Clemens had used steroids. Since the release of the Mitchell report Conseco he has submitted an affidavit saying that he had no knowledge of Clemens’ steroid use, and has also implied that, had it not been for pressure from his publisher—which he links to Clemens’ connection to the Bush family—he would have written more about Clemens’ steroid use in Juiced. Essentially, now, his position is that he never had any proof that Clemens did steroids, but had always strongly suspected that he might do steroids, and he emphasizes either the lack of proof or the longtime suspicion, depending on the situation.

My theory is that Jose Conseco’s two goals in all of this are to be liked by Roger Clemens and to enhance his (Conseco’s) personal celebrity as much as possible. Probably, part of why Conseco wanted to be liked by Clemens was that he knew damn well that Clemens did steroids. Thus, when he initially wrote Juiced he did, in fact, have more about Clemens doing steroids, since it was the most sensational thing at his disposal, but he also threw in the thing about Clemens never cheating on his wife, as an olive branch or consolation prize. Also, Conseco might have known that Clemens’ fidelity would eventually come under scrutiny, and wanted the Rocket to know that he was on his side, at least when it came to screwing underage country singers. Conseco’s publishers made him tone down the stuff about Clemens, because they weren’t dummies and knew that Clemens was the sort of guy who would be a litigious dick about being explicitly called out for steroids. After the Mitchell report, one of the many minor pieces of Conseco stock that went up was the fact that he was prevented from printing unsubstantiated claims about Clemens’ juicing in the first place, and Conseco had to make this known. However, because he still wants to be liked by Clemens, the Clemens camp was able to work something out where he would publicly claim that he had no explicit knowledge of Clemens’ steroid use.

I like to think that, although most of the negotiating was done by their agents, Jose Conseco insisted on a face to face meeting to confirm the details of the arrangement. Conseco went alternately hoping that Clemens would embrace him as a fellow disgraced juicer and eagerly anticipating Clemens’ squirming with the knowledge that he was in some way under Conseco’s power. The meeting was brief and Clemens never made eye-contact with Conseco. Maybe at the end, Conseco said something like “hey, how’s that little blond country singer doing, she was a real nice piece of ass,” and Clemens grunted and shrugged, his eyes clearly saying “jesus christ what will it take to get this fucking spic out of my sight,”…and Conseco, who had been greedily studying the broad, bloated face for any sign of fellow feeling or sympathy, could read that as clear as a billboard, and, after a weak attempt at getting the check, shuffled out into the world to maintain Clemens’ innocence.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Beltran’s Leadership Strikes Again

When Reyes was taken out of the game against the Brewers on Friday, April 11th, Gary Cohen and Ron Darling spent a moment discussing weather it was for defensive lapses, or for not running out ground balls, before the hamstring tightness was announced. The Mets lost the next two games, which Reyes sat out. At some point, before he returned the next Tuesday, Beltran approached Reyes and gave him a pep talk in which he encouraged Reyes to be himself and to return to the exuberant ways that he had renounced after his September slump; in the wake of being generally blamed for the Mets collapse, Reyes had reported to camp committed to being more focused on baseball and less on theatrics. Particularly, he decided to eliminate his choreographed celebratory handshakes, which had drawn the ire of opponents. After Beltran’s talk, Reyes resolved to return to being the “old Reyes,” to take up the handshakes and everything. This resolution has been followed by good play for Reyes, who had good series against the Nationals and Phillies.

Nothing is as important to the Mets as a dominant Reyes, and anything that encourages this is more than welcome. At the same time the incident furthers the perception of Beltran filling the perceived leadership void, which is also fun.

If you are looking for something to feel skeptical about, you can bear in mind that Reyes’ mini-streak has come against the Nationals, who are bad, and in Citizens’ Bank Park, where Reyes has always enjoyed hitting. He hit three home runs there once in 2006, during a terrible outing by an injured Pedro. Reyes’ homeruns also were the bulk of the Mets offense. The first one, which lead off the game, lead to an exuberant celebration in the dugout. Although they were healthily behind when he hit his second, it seemed to give them new life, and again his teammates were hopefully enthusiastic. By the time he hit the third, the game was already basically lost, and the only person waiting for the triumphant Reyes on the dugout steps was infield reserve Chris Woodward; Wright, who had lead the rush to greet him after the first homerun, was off in a corner.

I’m going to vent my disappointment with myself for not having posted enough lately by pointing out that the New York Post’s Mike Vaccaro is kind of a moron. He wrote a whiney column, lamenting that the Mets blew their shot at a sweep of the Phillies and attributing this to Castillo’s inability to get a bunt down in the ninth inning, with runners on first and second, nobody out, and the Mets trailing by one. After Castillo struck out, Wright popped out, and Beltran hit a ball that might have gone for a hit but was well fielded by Phillie’s shortstop Eric Bruntlett. Vaccaro claims that if Castillo got the bunt down, the entire complexion of the inning would be changed, which is sort of true: the complexion of the inning would also have been changed if Beltran or Wright had gotten a hit, or if Castillo had been able to get on base. Identifying Castillo’s inability to put down the bunt as the play that cost them the game strikes me as odd: I’d just as soon blame Beltran and Wright for not getting a hit with the tying run in scoring position in the ninth. Or, fuck it; blame Pelfrey for giving up home-runs.

People have been telling me lately that I am unreasonably impatient with bunting as a strategy, and they are probably right. But my impatience is a results form the fact that the Mets in general, and Louis Castillo in particular, seem to display an unhealthy mania for the tactic. Obviously, if you have to make an out you might as well advance the runners and in certain situations the bunt is an invaluable tool. However, Castillo seems to really love to bunt, which is odd because he’s not an utterly incompetent hitter, and he particularly excels at patience and pitch recognition, meaning that, unless he bunts, pitchers have to throw strikes to get him out. If I was Willie Randolph, I’d send Castillo up and make the opposing pitcher throw strikes until he either walked Castillo, or got him out, or gave him a pitch to hit, rather than sacrifice a competent batter in order to advance runners.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Bill James: Sunday’s Mets vs. Brewers, Worst Game of Baseball Since 1972

Sabermetric guru Bill James has recently stated that Sunday’s contest between the Milwaukee Brewers and the New York Mets was the worst game of baseball since an Oakland Athletic loss to the Boston Redsox in 1972. In the National League there hasn’t been a worse game since a 1970 contest between the Pittsburgh Pirates and the Huston Astros.

“In the course of 162 games, teams will play some excruciating baseball,” said James, “In fact, the human mind is not capable of contextualizing all of the awfulness, and evaluating it in terms of relative terribleness. Thus, I have created several statistics to help us gauge relative levels of suckitude.

“Sometimes,” said James, “both starters will simply have bad outings. What makes a start truly pathetic is when it seems like it might have had potential, but still ends up a disaster.”

Such was the case of the Mets Oliver Perez on Sunday, who entered the 4th with a four run lead that he was unable to protect for an inning. One of James’ statistics, SUC [Starters Underachieving Completely], relates size of a lead to the shortness of the time that it was held. Perez had a SUC of 7.4, and a SUC + (adjusted across eras) of 1.5. “Additionally, the Brewers did half of their damage in that inning with two outs, when it looked like Perez might have been able to escape, contributing to his Lima-factor of 12,” added James.

Another feature of Sunday’s game was that the Mets were able to get the leadoff man on in nearly every inning, but were seldom able to get that runner to score. “Something like that,” said James “speaks volumes of awful about both teams. It reminds you that the Brewers’ pitching was just brutal, but also makes the point that the Mets ability to get the job done with runners on base was, quite frankly, an embarrassment to the sport.”

POOP [Players Offering Outs Pathetically] is used to gauge overall offensive ineptitude. The two teams, aided by the 5 double plays turned against the Mets, combined for a POOP of 24.7 “In a situation like that it is almost as if they were two turds, chasing each other down the drain of America’s pastime,” said James.

CRAP [Continuing Really Awful Play] relates the awful baseball to the inning that it occurred in and also places the game in the larger context of both team’s seasons. Sunday’s game scored a CRAP of 34.6; CRAPs above 26.5 are, according to James “thankfully, exceedingly rare.”

Sunday’s CRAP rating was the highest since the 1972 game, and the eight highest since World War II—the furthest back that James has been able to do his calculations. Strangely, the Mets have been participants in seven of the ten highest CRAP-rated games in that time, even though they were only formed in 1962.

Although all can agree that there was nothing good about Sunday’s game, some dispute James’ assertion about its historic awfulness. Said WFAN’s Joe Beningo “I don’t need a computer to tell me what’s bad baseball. Sure, that Mets game sucked. But I remember a game, in the either ’91 or ’93 between, I think it was the Mets and the Pittsburgh Pirates, were the two teams combined for something like twenty errors. Man, that game was awful.”

While James agrees that miserable fielding is one of the main components of pathetic baseball, he believes that errors are too imprecise a metric. He prefers FUCK [Fielders Un-displaying Competence Kompletely] which calculates not only scored errors but other minor and major fielding miscues; Sunday’s game was completely FUCKed, with a score of 12.8.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Jimmy Rawlins Defends his MVP

Were there any questions about the value that Jimmy Rawlins brings to the Phillies, they were answered on Wednesday when Rawlins was forced to miss the game with a sprained ankle and the Mets beat the Phillies by capitalizing on lousy fielding and all around sloppy play, in much the way that the Phillies had beaten the Mets in the last nine games the two clubs played. Rawlins was replaced by Eric Bruntlet who committed two costly errors at shortstop, although he did get a hit and a walk in the Phillies 2-8 loss.

The feeling in SABER circles was that the MVP should have been David Wright. Rawlins, who had over 20 each of homeruns, triples, doubles, and stolen bases, benefited from having an historic number of plate appearances, as a result of batting lead off, in a high powered offense, in a very hitter-friendly park. Wright, however, beat out Rawlins in metrics like VORP and EqA, largely by posting a higher On Base Percentage.

If the difference between how the Phillies played the Mets on Wednesday and how the series between them had gone before was entirely attributable to Jimmy Rawlins, than it would be very hard to argue that any player could be more valuable to their team. While this does take away something from the Mets victory, it also helps to underscore the overall fragility of the Phillies.

So, Jimmy Rawlins, you get to be a black guy who is by far the best player on a flawed team from Philadelphia. You should ask “The Answer” how that worked out for him…if you ever find yourself in Denver. (hmm…Rawlins actually did find himself in Denver as the Phillies lost to the Rockies in the NLDS. I remember wondering who Allen Iverson rooted for at the time).


If Mike Pelfrey is actually going to start being a viable big-league starter, it could not have come at a better time, as it coincides directly with the news that some new ailment will keep Old Duque away from the big league club even longer. All the talking heads on the post-game show were saying that it was just one start, which is completely true. But, for just one start, you couldn’t ask for much more: it’s not like the long-term out-look would be better if he had pitched badly.


Oh yeah, if you’re reading this, Joe Girardi: move A-rod to shortstop, dumbass. Jeter is such a calm-eyed, leadership, team-first guy that he would surely by able to take the hit to his ego. Kinda surprising he hasn’t suggested it himself.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Delgado's Opening Day at Shea

Lost amongst the Mets spending the winter and spring talking about putting the collapse behind them and then playing Tuesday’s home opener against the Phillies in a way that was somehow more collapse-ey than anything that they did in September ‘07, was the fact that Carlos Delgado had himself what I can only imagine is a fairly unusual game-- hitting a home run (2-4 overall), turning an unassisted double play, and committing a costly throwing error—which, perhaps more than any other non-Heilman/ Schoeneweis factor, lost them the game.

Jason Werth led off the Phillies’ second with a single. The next batter hit the ball hard up the first base line, as Werth started, but only just started, to head for second. The ball came exactly at Carlos Delgado, who was standing between Werth and the bag, and turned the double play by grabbing the ball, stepping on first base, and applying a tag to Werth—all the work of about half a second, since, at the time the ball came to Delgado’s glove, Werth, ball and bag, were all within two feet of each other. The highlight of the play was Werth, whose move was theoretically to run towards second and get caught in a run-down, but opted instead to stand frozen just off of first base, his head turned down, his body askance, and one arm dangled downwards at an angel to cover his crotch: the position was probably the result of him being frozen in the first motions of running to second, but looked very much like some primal expression of embarrassment.

Delgado led off the Mets half of that inning and hit a towering home run to center field, giving the Mets a 1-0 lead. Delgado had been having a seemingly good start to the year, hitting for some ridiculous, small sample-size average, but most of his hits have been singles, and pretty much attributable to a run of good luck on balls put in play. This was an old-school Carlos Delgado monster shot, and it was really great to see. At the same time, Jamie Moyer is no John Smoltz, and it is important to remember that almost all of what the Mets accomplished, and didn’t accomplish, came against the only active MLB player older than Shea Stadium.

In the next inning, Delgado was part of the sequence that scored the Mets second run. Beltran had drawn a one out walk, and moved to second on Delgado’s single. Pagan then got an infield hit on a questionable play by Utley, and Beltran scored on a Ryan Church groundout. Moyer then intentionally walked Brian Schneider to load the bases and struck out Oliver Perez. Perez’ at bat included the oddest attempt at bunting for a hit: as Moyer released the ball, Perez quickly swung the bat into the position used to bunt, and, as the ball reached the plate, dropped the bat and began to sprint towards first without awaiting the results of the ball/bat encounter—they missed each other completely and Ollie took a strike.

In the bottom of the seventh, Ryan Howard faced Scott Schoeneweis with the bases loaded and one out-- Chase Utley was the runner on first. Howard hit a ground ball that Delgado fielded, as the runners went in motion. Delgado threw the ball to Jose Reyes at second. Ideally, Reyes would have tagged second, getting out Utley, and then tossed the ball back to Delgado at first to get out the slow moving Howard and end the inning. Delgado’s throw, however, hit Utley square in the back and then bounced into the outfield, allowing both the runners ahead of Utley to score, and leaving runners at first and second with still only one out. Those two runs tied the game, and Utley scored latter in the inning, to give the Phillies the lead. Utley was running outside of the base path when he was hit by Delgado, and while the thing was obviously a rotten break, it was also the result of sub-optimal defense by Delgado and Reyes- the latter should not have positioned himself with Utley between him and Delgado. Oddly, Utley had reached base by being hit by a pitch: it was the third time he had been hit that day (although the first two had made more contact with his uniform than with actual Chase Utley), tying the major league record for HBP in a game.

So, when was the last time that a player turned an unassisted double play, hit a home run, and committed a run-scoring error in the same game? And what does it tell us about players who accomplish this feat? Probably not very much…although I’d be pretty impressed if anyone has done it twice.

Monday, April 7, 2008

Notes on a Game: 4/6/08

These are extracted from some notes that I took on Sunday’s 3-1 loss to the Braves. I was fairly pissed that the Mets missed The Traitor in the Braves rotation, and I guess I am even more pissed after seeing how Smoltz pitched. As it was, the pitchers duel between Smoltz and Santana lived up to expectations. Smoltz gave five innings, allowing two hits, two walks and no runs, while Santana pitched seven and gave up seven hits, no walks and one run. The Mets, however, managed to do absolutely didly-squat at the plate, either against Smoltz or the Braves bullpen, which is not generally considered a strength. An additional factor in the Met’s loss was a two-run dinger that Hielman gave up in the eighth—but I think that the Met’s major culprit was still a miserable lack of hitting.

2nd Inning:
-Church looks like he’s swinging at garbage…and strikes out.
-Pagan is up, who is, according to the announcers, the first guy to score a run and drive in a run in each of his first four games for a new team since 1969…he still grounds out.
-Schneider goes down, which means they don’t clear the pitchers spot.

3rd inning:
-Santana hits a damn double!
-And takes third on a Reyes groundball!
-Santana stays at third for a shallow Castillo fly ball out, probably wise.
-Smoltz strikes out Wright to end the inning.

-Kotsay with a leadoff double…ick.
-Smoltz bunts…Santana gets the ball and might have had a play at third, but miss-communicates with Wright slightly and gets Smoltz at first, Kotsay to third.
-Santana makes a beautiful diving stop, and gets Kelly Johnson at first, keeping Kotsay at third. Santana’s pitching is not terrific, but he is still fielding like a motherfucker, and got that hit… amazing ball player (Pope still catholic, in other news)
-Yunel Escobar RBI double. Fuck. Pagan might have had a chance at a catch but didn’t get it.
-groundball to Castillo ends the inning.

-Beltran works a 3-2 count...strikes out, but made Smoltz work for it.
-Delgado gets a hit. Hell yes!
-And then Church hits a ball into the outfield, which is caught, and Delgado is thrown out going back to first to end the inning.

-Ruben Gotay, who got a hit and scored in yesterday’s horrible game, comes in as a pinch hitter. Ruben will probably hit a dinger, but it’s nice that we’ll see the Braves bullpen in the 6th inning…Gotay strikes out for the second out.
-Kelly Johnson gets a single. Escobar hits a groundball to end the inning.

Keith Hernandez: I’ll look like Hercules unchained. [in Gary Cohen’s shirt]

Gary Cohen:…a very important trivial part of Mets history…

Mets down 3. Wright leading off. Let’s do this.
-Wright draws a walk.
-Beltran strikes out.
-Delgado flies out.
-Wright to second on defensive indifference—defensive indifference is pretty cool.
-Church singles. Wright scores.
-Pagan comes up, as the trying run. Church goes to second on defensive indifference.
-Pagan works a 3-2, umpire’s calls are getting arbitrary, Pagan draws a walk. Brining up Schneider.
-If I were Randolph, I would give serious thought to lifting Schneider for a pinch hitter, [as Schneider grounds out]…’cause if Schneider gets out, they loose. If there would be a better chance of Easley getting a hit, fuck it, bring him in and use Casanova for the 9th. What do they have to loose? The only reason to keep Schneider would be if they thought he was more likely to hit than Easley, which they might have.

The losing pitcher pitched 7 innings, allowing seven hits, one run, and no walks. Wins and Losses are a very good way of evaluating pitchers. Santana did not really seem to have his best stuff, but still managed to be pretty amazing. Mets and Mets fans are really lucky to have the guy. (go to for some pictures of bears shiting…in the woods!!)

The Offense:Wright and Beltran combined to draw three walks, and hit nothing. Reyes never got on base. No one else had a good game at the plate either, unless you want to count Delgado’s two singles. Sorriano, the Braves closer, looked like crap, and I think that the Mets wasted their best opportunity of the game in the 9th, when Beltran and Delgado made outs against him.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

The 8th inning sing-along Adventure

I: Last year, the Mets, following the lead of the Red Sox (who had been doing the same thing for quite some time), played the song “Sweet Caroline” during the eighth inning and encouraged people to sing along to it.

II: This was slightly horrible. Sweet Caroline is a pretty bad song. And a whole stadium of people singing it with differing levels of in-tune-ness was pretty annoying.

IIa: In circles where music is taken seriously, Sweet Caroline is an almost uniquely despised song. I once met a bass player and we had a conversation to this effect.

IIb: It could have been worse: the ballpark is a place of compromise, and will not adhere 100% to anyone’s ideal ballpark. Little as I liked “Sweet Caroline,” it is easier for me to imagine them doing something more horrible, than for me to imagine them doing something I liked.

IIc: “S.C’ is so maddeningly catchy and feel good that you almost have to give it some form of props. All you really have to do is think about it and it gets in your head (sweeeet Car-o-line, la-da-da daa da da daaaaaa –So good! So good!... FUCK!!)

IId: The song is an abomination. Neil Diamond should be burned to death.

III: Possibly in acknowledgment of II, the Mets have announced that this year fans can vote for one of several choices, or write in their own suggestion for a new song to be played during the eighth inning.

IIIa: In conformation of IIb, Billy Jole’s “I’m Moving Out” and Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer” are among the choices.

IV: has taken the lead (although others were quick to follow) in encouraging people to write in Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give you Up”—an effort, if successful, that would result in the “rickrolling” of the entire Mets franchise.

IVa: The whole “rickrolling” thing, and internet memes in general, are strange. I get that it is funny to randomly draw attention to different pop-cultural inanities of the past and present. But when you say, of Snakes on a Plane or Rick Astley, that it is “awesome,” what do you actually mean? Is that an honest opinion? Or are you saying that the song corresponds to some set of criteria that you have decided to equate temporarily with awesomeness? Essentially, you are entering a place where traditional concepts like “good” and “bad” have no significance, and the only important quality is some kind of ever-fluctuating, vaguely ironical now-ness—that exists without reference to anything, or references everything.

IVb: That said, an ironical “Never Gonna Give You Up” is, to my mind, far, far more enjoyable than an earnest “Sweet Caroline.”

IVc: That said, I’m not sure how down I am with the Mets being the victim of jokes played by the internet, just sort of on principal.

V: None of this really matters, because the Mets are probably not going to allow themselves to be “rickrolled.” If they don’t want “Never Gonna Give you Up” they won’t have it. They will either go with the next highest vote getter, or just make some other, autocratic, decision.

VI: The whole thing was the subject of a lengthy discussion on metsblog, which also delved into the issues of weather in-game entertainments on the jumbo-tron are desirable or not.

VIa: my feeling on the latter matter: while I like the purist concept of a ball-park with limited non-baseball media, I recognize it as a necessity for many park goers, and have occasionally been grateful for something loud and shinny to occupy my attention in between innings—while other times I have found them inexcusably obnoxious.

VIa1: Ideally they would work on making more in-game entertainments that were fun and interesting, while eliminating ones that sucked. Professor Reyes can teach all the Spanish that he wants; the bit where the kid gets a prize if he hits a home-run in a videogame? Not so much.

VII: Seriously, the song “Sweet Caroline” is quite bad.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

A Better World…

Right now, I have $26 in my pocket. If my pocket, myself and my $26 were in Port St. Lucie, FL, I could use them to buy thirteen Budweisers and thirteen hotdogs, both of which are being sold for $1, to celebrate the first game of the season for the Port St. Lucie Mets. Or, if I was feeling temperate, I could enjoy eighteen hotdogs, with a mere eight Budweisers while I watched Ruben Tejada take his first cuts of ’08, Indeed, any combination of hotdogs+ Budweisers equaling 26 or less could be mine for the having, if only I were in Port St. Lucie watching the Port St. Lucie Mets.

But I’m not. I’m in New York City, working in the sub-sub-library, with neither a hotdog, nor a Budwieser to my name. The only baseball on is the Yankees, and after work I get to walk to the train in the cold.

Congratulations, by the way, to Nelson Figueroa, on making the team while Pedro goes on the DL…if I were in Port St. Lucie I could drink up to 26 Budwiesers in honor of N-Fig’s return to the big leagues.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Wagner: You can’t Pull Fat

They really didn’t waste any time. In two games they’ve managed to run the dizzying gamut of baseball emotions, from the giddy excitement of finally seeing Santana, to “oh fuck, fuck fuck, Pedro’s injured again, fuck.” The dominance and exuberance of youth, giving away to the frailty and uncertainty of age. The entire spectrum of baseball, covered in two games. Everything that happens from now on will seem redundant.

The commercials on am sports radio have to be considered as a candidate for the lowest form of expression ever produced.

Perhaps the best thing about Santana was the sense, not entirely logical, that we were finally done with relying on the murky depths of the rotation, who would now only appear in the number five spot. With Pedro injured, two out of five starts have to come from some mix of Pelfery, El Duque, Jorge Sosa, Nelson Figureoa, the last of whom, Willy Randolph apparently said would probably replace Pedro on the roster.

It was almost inevitable that Pedro would spend some time on the DL at some point, but the hope was that it would have come at some latter point in the season, after he had demonstrated an ability to stay with the team.

Indeed, in terms of actual baseball the injury to Pedro has the potential to be relatively minor. Pedro was probably expected to do fairly little, with the most serious expectations, after Santana, falling on Oliver Perez and John Maine. At the same time, the idea of the five Cy Youngs between Pedro and Santana, the new ace and the old ace at the top of the rotation counted for something, if only to the fans. In truth, Pedro has not had a very major effect on either of the last two seasons, and, while most of the anticipation was geared towards Santana, there was also a fair amount of excitement at the prospect of finally seeing what the Mets had in Martinez.

And perhaps the best thing about watching Santana was knowing that he would be followed by Pedro, and the expectation that the Mets dominance on the mound would continue into the next game.

…actually sports talk itself might be worse than the commercials. They just blamed Spike Lee for the state of the Knicks.