June 10, 2007

They Call Me MISTER Splitty

Well, Roger Clemens isn't Roger Clemens anymore, but he's still Roger Clemens, if you know what I mean. And I won't blame you if you don't.

Never mind my ill-fated attempt to reach today's game at Yankee Stadium; it took me almost three and a half hours to reach the Bronx from Brooklyn, an epic and disastrous journey -- sort of like The Warriors in reverse, especially the subway scenes. So I arrived at River Avenue shortly after Roger Clemens left the mound. Thanks to a kind but incompetent Pakistani cab driver, though, I did catch some of it on the radio ("I don't know," the driver said doubtfully of Clemens. "He is an old man"), and the rest via the glittering wonder that is Tivo.

Roger wasn't great, but he was good enough. It's so helpful when your team scores more than two runs behind their starting pitcher, you know? And, also, when your opponent is the Pirates. Yikes -- can't we just stick them on a remote field somewhere and make them play the Royals every day? At the end of the season, the losing owner will be forced to sell his team to someone who gives a fuck.

Having said that, they'll probably shell Tyler Clippard tomorrow, just to spite me. Ah well.

However! The Yankees are, for perhaps the second week all year, not sucking. They're now just two games back from .500.... and, mmmmm! Mediocrity is so close within reach I can almost taste it!

Meanwhile, I'm beginning to think that what the Yankees had may be contagious, and the Mets could use some penicillin: cold bats, a rash of injuries, a suddenly unreliable bullpen. What the Mets still have going for them, though, is their starting pitching, which has been solid throughout (well, except for today, but never mind). The bullpen might turn out to be a serious problem, if Heilman and Schoenewies and Mota can't be reliable... but their offense at least will come around as people get healthy.

The truth is, though, I'm still mourning the loss of Endy Chavez to a serious hamstring strain. Nooooooo! I was at Shea for that game, a bleary, hopeless affair even before Endy had to be helped off the field. (Best fan quote of the night, from one of the severely drunk Long Island college kids to my right: "FUUUUUCK YOU! YOU SUUUUUCK! FUCK YOU, BUR-- hey, you're not Burrell. Who the hell's that guy?" The game in a nutshell).

Anyway, I was there for Endy's NLCS Catch, too, and his brilliant walk-off drag bunt in April. And if you think the mere fact that he'll be out for probably two months is going to keep me from writing him on my NL All-Star ballot, you are very much mistaken. Dammit! Why'd it have to be Endy?!? Please, lord, take Ben Johnson istead!

2 comments:

Al said...

Emma,

What city do the Mets play in?

According to Newsday, the Post, and the DailyNews, there's only two teams in NYC: the Yankees and whatever team Rajah plays for.

Perhaps Omar Minaya needs to add Paris Hilton to the roster (or atleast Paris Bobble-Head day)

The Mets do have some fine soldiers

Do us a favor and write about your adventure on "Pelham One Two Three." It sounds like a keeper. You kinda did something similar at the beginning of the season - writing about opinionated VOICES on the number #4 train.

Peter said...

You're not the only one to have problems getting to the Stadium on Saturday. I live on the UES and figured leaving the apartment by noon should be sufficient. Barely, but no thanks to the MTA (with their very delayed, too crowded to get on, express trains running local and stopping in between stations shenanigans).

Once the Pirates jumped out to an early lead, I realized my section was full of Bucs fans. I never felt sympathy for opposing fans like I did that day.