The Serval Zippers Sign

Pardon the pun…

I think this just stinks on ice.

Metsblog is reporting that Ruben Gotay has been put on waivers. Yeah, I know he doesn’t hit lefties, seemingly — which seems to be the Mets’ crisis du jour among the media — he can’t field a lick, he’s out of options and he’s spent most of spring training hurt, but geeze! When he’s on, the guy can flat out rake. Some other team will claim him right away, you can bet.

And he’ll be replaced by whom, you ask?

Fernando Tatis.

Yeah, you heard me right: Fernando Tatis.

Memo to Willie & Omar: THAT SHIP SAILED 5 FRIKKEN YEARS AGO!

I can’t understand this fetish the braintrust has about washed up, broken down players. Long gone are the days of the Mets being –in Jimmy Breslin’s ancient words — “just like the WPA: they give everybody a chance.” So why have we had to endure the likes of Gerald Williams, Ricky Ledee, Michael Tucker, Jeff Conine and of course, Lima Time! ? All at the expense of players like Gotay, Victor Diaz, Lastings Milledge and Phillip Humber.

Anyway, Godspeed Ruben. I wish you nothing but the best. Unless, of course, you hook on with the Braves, Phillies or Yankees. In that case, you’re dead to me…

Disappointing thoughts triggered by rumblings from PSL. It appears increasingly that Duaner Sanchez will indeed be left in Florida to build up his stamina.

That’s not the disturbing part.

Who’s in line to fill Sanchez’s slot on the roster, then, you ask? Why, the immortal Brian Stokes, of course.

Oy…

I don’t know what it is. It might be the Tampa Bay pedigree, it might be a marked inability to generate outs on a consistent basis, maybe I just don’t like his face. But everytime I see his name in a box score, all I can think of is Guillermo Mota.

You heard me.

Wow! Check ‘em out!

Where have I been?

Well, took a little Easter break from the blogosphere, that’s where.

Sarah & I went out and got that computer upgrade we talked about — a Gateway 500 gig jobby with a 19″ monitor! I’ve been happily downloading and converting my CDs (boy! I have a lot of music…). Then on Saturday we had Easter dinner I at Sarah’s parents’ place along with my brother-in-law, sister-in-law and their kids. Then, on Sunday after Church, we went to Easter dinner II at my cousin Chrissie’s house in Long Beach. That one included all her siblings, their spouses and children and assorted in-laws.

It took me a full workday yesterday to recover…

So what have I missed?

El Duque and Pelfrey laid a couple of eggs on Easter. The 5th starter slot is now officially up in the air and a concern.

A concern to the media — but not to me — is that it looks like Duaner Sanchez may remain in Port St. Lucie after the team breaks camp. I call this a good move: he gets to build his stamina with no pressure on him. Though he’s gotta be sick of PSL by now (he’s been there since early November), it’s not like last year when he was actually injured and had no shot of pitching at all. This way, he may see Flushing around the middle-to-the-end of April. I’ll take it.

Meanwhile, on the offensive side, my friend Greg pines for the return of Jose! Reyes. So do I…

OK, so I’m a newborn babe as far as maintaining my own blog. That doesn’t mean blogging is a subject that’s completely unknown to me. All those links on the right-hand side of this page? I’ve posted to all of ‘em. So, if you’ve read anything I’ve written anywhere, you’ll know I hold this opinion:

I have the best wife on the planet.

Really…

The. Best.

My birthday is coming up next week, on the 29th (Don’t bother sending flowers or anything; we’ll be out of town). Anyway, yesterday, Sarah calls me at work and says “I wanna do something fun tonight.” So I was figuring we’d take in a movie or something. She says, “Let’s go to the mall. I have something in mind for you for your birthday and I’ll need you to choose.”

Hmmmm, says I. Where could we be going? Sports Authority, maybe? Deck the Walls? Lids? I’m beyond intrigued. So we get to the mall and she goes “Quick! Turn right!”

So I turn right…Right into the Apple Store! We picked out an iPod Touch 32 gig. for my birthday. And, come to find out this morning, that we’ll be upgrading our home PC to accomodate it as we presently have a somewhat antiquated operating system. We are actually entering the 21st Century!

OHMYGOD! I LOVE MY WIFE!

Mainly because yesterday was an off day.

Not much to write about. El Duque threw 80 pitches in 4 simulated innings. According to all reports, he wasn’t throwing hard enough to break an egg.

Mike Pelfrey was also simulatin’, but he was a bit more stimulatin’. (tm Walt Frazier)

The hamstrung catchers continue to stretch and rest…and stretch and rest…and stretch and rest…(cue Jack LaLane organ music)

But on a more important note, the countdown has begun. I’m fascianted to see who gets to turn the pages.

And having to give credit where credit is due, hats off to the Yankees for playing an exhibition at Virginia Tech to commemorate the 1 year anniversary of the shootings there — as well as a $1 million donation. Of course, I’m going against my natural inclination, which is to dismiss the appearance as a Steinbrennerian way of making David Wright — a VA Tech alum — look bad.

I must be off today…

Hmmm…

Looking to post about the spring success of the Mets’ starters, but what to call it and still appear clever?

There are any number of stock headlines I could use. Armed & Ready. Armed & Dangerous. Well Armed…

To impress those of a literary bent, I could use Arms & The Men, or if there’s a rash of injuries — God forbid! — Farewell To Arms.

We wish Duaner Sanchez had been in an “armoured” car 2 years ago. We hope the good folks at Aramark will sell Armour hot dogs…

OK, I’ve exhausted all logic.

Pedro Martinez appears to have taken that long road all the way back. John Maine hasn’t been touched in 3 games. Oliver Perez appears to have finally found himself. Mike Pelfrey is on the upswing of the learning curve. El Duque says he’ll pitch in a game ever. Johann Santana is Johann Santana. This starting staff has me starry-eyed for the season.

I say the over/under on wins by the starters is 73:

Santana 18
Pedro 12
Maine 16
Perez 15
Duque 4
Pelfrey 8

Throw in another 20 or so from the ‘pen and you’ve got a recipe for a sweet season.

Ahhhh…There’s my headline: From My Lips To God’s Ears.

Catchy…

Well, I tell ya, this here is a splendid periodical and anybody’ud love to commence the season looking this over like the fans in the stands with their placards and you see them down the leftfield line if you get a base hit. This book rings the bell, that was the name of my leftfielder at the Polar Grounds in ‘62. That was when all the little child’ern were saying “Metsie! Metsie!” Well, the book is better’n that an’ you could move a ballclub without a railroad if ya had a book like that. We had a fella name o’ Hodges who was so strong, he could squeeze off yer earbrows an’ he’s got a photograph in here, an’ some o’ the good-lookin’ fellas who have that effeminate appeal are all over this like Marv aroun’ a bunt. There’s a bunch o’ guys who coulda been my writers who put words in the magazine but they was too young or not born yet at my age an’ you could look it up. An’ ya know there’s bran’-new ballpark gonna be put up in a short while and when the Metsies win 10 or a dozen pennants and Suh-boda th’ows out the first ball there it’ll be somethin’, an’ I found the book in my local Atlantic/Pacific store which is a won’erful place to get the periodicals and meat and what.

So I can’t be any more clear when I tell ya to read this book…

Well not these two, apparently.

Castro & Schneider — The Hammy Brothers — both came up with the same injury at the same time. Both are the ever popular day-to-day, in classic Met fashion. If they’re worse than that, the opening day catcher might be Raul Casanova, backed up by Gustavo Molina — not of the famous (or infamous to Met fans) catching Molina brothers. It might be Alomar time, once again.

Meanwhile it would appear that Carlos Delgado is trying to form a splinter group. But seriously, folks…

Sarah and I took a spontaneous trip to my cousin Jim’s house in Long Beach. GOD, I love that place and those people. Watched the end of the Mets/Detroit game with Jim and his son — also Jim. We were indignant that Jamar Hill wasn’t awarded first base after taking a pitch off the hand from Orber Moreno. Home plate ump Travis Reininger (what the hell is a Travis Reininger???) called it foul. I wanted Willie to get run when he came out to argue and Jim, Sr., said “Well, he’d better have a fire under his ass.” and I said, “Yes, or he’ll find his ass fired!” Aren’t I clever?

We then had a pre-St. Patrick’s corned beef & cabbage dinner. Could not be beat!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all and may ye all be in heaven 20 minutes before the divil knows yer dead…

Driving to work this morning, I was listening to Boomer & Carton on the ‘FAN. They’re down in PSL (that’s Port St. Lucie, for those of you not in the loop) and are interviewing various & sundry Metsfolk. This morning, it was hitting coach and long-time fan fave Howard Johnson. They talked about the injury situation, which is obviously improving, as Beltran played center yesterday, Delgado is reporting no hip pain and Castillo is scheduled to play tomorrow.

What I found interesting, though, was when the conversation swung around to The Collapse — as Met conversations inevitably will for the next few months — and Jose Reyes’s role in it.

I think this is a critical, crossroads year in Jose’s career. I’m not talking about the dancing and woofing we’ve come to expect and — for the most part — enjoy and which apparently upsets some of the more sensitive types in the NL East. It’s more about style-of-play. HoJo was saying that since Reyes came up in 2003, the stereotypical leadoff hitter has gone from a the slappy, put-it-in-play, Luis Castillo type hitter, to someone who has decent power and can drive the ball to all fields — more the Rickey Henderson model. He seemed to think that Reyes got a little longball-happy at the end of last year, at the expense of using his natural gifts to get on base and shake things up once there. At the same time, you also can’t turn him into Terry Puhl. If he can balance the 2, he’ll be the elite player almost every Met fan believes he already is.

If not, well…I hate to think of it…