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Regression

After a mighty four-game winning streak, the Mets have regressed to the mean, losing two straight to the Brewers, in fairly miserable fashion I might add. On Saturday, the Mets drew nine walks off of Brewer pitching, but that had more to do with a wild staff than it did with Mets plate discipline. They also managed only two hits in losing 6-4 to Milwaukee. The wind also might have cost the Mets as many as four homeruns, but it was their lousy hitting coupled with another ineffective start from Tyler Yates that cost the Mets in this one.

Hopeless optimism turns to blistered realism very quickly around these parts. It is unwise, yet fantastically easy, to let one or two games sway my opinion of a season's promise. Two days ago, I was all, "Yea, two games under .500. We're in a weak division, anything can happen". Now, after back-to-back suckfests at the hands of the Beermakers, I'm more like, "Yep, these are my Mets. Love 'em. Hate 'em. Love to hate 'em".

You see, I have an acute case of BPBS, or Bi-Polar Baseball Syndrome. I take heavy doses of medication to keep it in remission, but some times external forces conflict with the meds and I find myself once again subjected to its every whim.

Despite almost hitting a homerun yesterday, Ty Wigginton had one of the worst at-bats I've ever seen, as well as a "turning point" at-bat. After falling behind 3-0 on Mike Cameron, Matt Kinney came back to strike him out. Great, one out, bases loaded, and Cammy can't cut down on the swing and put the friggin' ball in play. Not to be outdone, Wigginton struck out even more uselessly, flailing away at pitch-after-pitch well out of the strike zone, causing me to erupt into a tourette's-like, curse-laden rant that, amongst other things, scared the hell out of my dog.

Eschewing the now-popular Moneyball mantra of treating outs as precious commodities, the Mets are the Mother Theresa of MLB, casually giving away their precious outs as if there were an endless supply.

Though it was a good story coming out of Spring Training, Tyler Yates is clearly not ready for the big show. He needs more seasoning, and a trip down to Norfolk is right around the corner. At this point, I'd be willing to give James Baldwin a shot, just to see somebody different out there. Hell, bring up Shawn Sedlacek, what do I care?

One last thought before I go to sleep: If Ricky Gutierrez is still wearing a New York Mets uniform at the end of May, you can begin directing your web browsers to www.sabersox.com, as this will officially become a Red Sox site, and I a proud member of the Red Sox Nation. Good night.