There are few greater day-after feelings than those that come with the tumbling of the flushing queens, especially in their own house. It's like getting invited to your ex-girlfriend's place and shitting in her sink but then having her fat, cheese-house friends jeer her. That's kind of what happened last night at citifield. Kyle Kendrick--like he's prone to do after getting the fucking prison showered treatment--came with decent to fantastic stuff, going 6 2/3 and allowing only 1 run but reaped minimal flack from the mets faithless as they saved the boo serenade for Mike Pelfrey and his less than stellar performance. What the fuck is this, Philly circa 1964-2007? There is no greater sound than hearing mets fans boo a shit mets. It's kinda like the good ol' days at The Vets minus the respectable team and clientele.
Kendrick was shaking all over throughout the first 3 frames of mets hitters, giving up a slew of early hits that in the end amounted to diddly squat. After giving up a solo mistake to Blose Gayes in the bottom 3rd, he settled nicely and pounded the zone hard with little regard for human life.
In the top 3rd J-Roll singled on and stole not one but two bags putting him in perfect position for Victorino's double to bring him home. shit a sneeze would've done it.
Polly knocked in a base-swiping Victorino in the 5th with a single and Choochie brought home Werth in the 6th after a lead-off triple. That's just how you gotta play it in that fucking park.
The Mad Dog / Lidge 8th/9th combo worked like a fucking Union Man, both going 1-2-3 in their respective innings cementing another sad week in mets biesbol and securing the Phils a shared top seat in the Wildcard spot. Good thing the giants are coming to our house Tuesday.
Also, I'd like to jive for a minute about how Joe Morgan is fucking obsessed with Diamond Tracker, the ESPN, the baserunning clock. Jose Reyes attempted to steal 2nd in the 1st inning but was called out on a slightly late Jimmy Rollins tag. I think I fucking sat through 5 different occasions in which Morgan just fucking jawed his way through the "scientific analysis" of ESPN's fancy-doodle bullshit toy as he recounted the time it took Ruiz' throw matched with the time it took Reyes to reach second. Reyes, after review, beat out the tag minutely but listening to Morgan's incessant ranting was like watching a newborn with the ability of speech piss on his face in amazement and regale you about it for 5 innings. Sure, maybe the ump was off but that's the fucking game. If we're gonna nickel-and-dime every fucking play they might as put on pads and do little dances after crossing homeplate and score low on CAT tests. Some calls go your way some calls go the other way. It tends to even out and if it doesn't then that's tough fucking titty. I can see the necessity of some sort of replay re-vamp as far as rules and stipulations and when to use it but fuck, unless you're out there on the field in a funny black hat and grey pants or you're getting a petition signed shut the fuck up about it during the telecast. One mention is enough. You didn't fucking jaw for 5 innings about Luis Castillo's bunt from a yard in front of the batters box in the 7th inning, did you? No, you talked about it for 30 seconds then got on with your job.
The Phils got the night off so it's time for all of us to hope the braves lose and unwind with some soothing music. I've been really listening to music a lot lately, I'm starting to really get into music. I just heard this band Fleetwood Mac and they are awesome. My friend Brian Turner who works for some radio station said I might like them. Boy, was he right! This band kicks ass, even if they has a chick singer! Fleetwood Mac is hot! Check out this killer video of them jamming on HBO in the early 80's.
Fuck new york and let a little love in your heart.
JSIII
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