My true feelings about the upcoming season may have been betrayed by my initial reaction to the rotation announced for the first week.
I'm attending game three on Thursday, and when I learned that Jonathan Niese would be the Mets' starter, I was thrilled and relieved, primarily because I wanted to avoid seeing Ollie Perez. And nothing against John Maine and Mike Pelfrey, who have not impressed this spring (then again, who has), but other than Johan Santana, Niese is probably the most exciting starter the Mets have.
That's right, Niese, the fifth starter who is coming off an injury (like seemingly everyone else).
Is that a bad sign?
When spring training began, I felt nothing but optimism. Jose Reyes was healthy and in camp, Jason Bay was in the lineup, and we figured we'd survive six weeks or so without Carlos Beltran. The vibe was positive, which is how spring training should be.
Reyes' thyroid acted up, which turned out to be an annoyance and not a crisis. But then the pitchers started, you know, pitching, and the results were less than positive.
Of the five starters' spring ERAs, Pelfrey's was the best, at 6.15. Santana had some rough outings, but no one's too worried, mainly because Santana is Santana and spring stats mean nothing. That, and if Santana really is having trouble, we may as well all jump off a bridge.
Pelfrey has been inconsistent and has been unable to find his inner Randy Johnson, prompting Jeff Francoeur to joke that he wanted to punch Big Pelf in the face before every start. Ollie has been mostly Bad Ollie, and it looks like an attempt is being made to improve his command, which has left his lively fastball lifeless. Probably better to let Ollie be Ollie and let the chips and home runs fall where they may.
Niese had his own share of troubles but showed signs of life, and scouts generally feel that he has a good future in the league. Let's hope so. Maine, meanwhile, has struggled, but there is hope that he'll get back to the pitcher who has come up big in big games.
That word, hope, has a lot riding on it. The Mets had an opportunity to improve the rotation but passed after John Lackey took his spotty medical history and ran to the Red Sox and their monster contract offer. There were others the Mets could have signed (why not roll the dice on Chien-Ming Wang??), but they stood pat, and we are where we are.
Some have suggested the bullpen is worse, but Pedro Feliciano has been outstanding against lefties, and two seasons ago, he held righties to a .215 average. If he can get closer to that number, maybe he can be the eighth-inning bridge. Or perhaps it's Hisanori Takahaski, who has been terrific so far and could even be a fallback starter.
What the Mets lack is an effective right-hander out of the pen (it isn't Sean Green), unless you're talking about Jennry Mejia, who has been lights-out. I'm on record saying that Mejia should be starting in the minors, but if the Mets want him to get his feet wet in the majors in the bullpen, then so be it. There were recent references to how the Cardinals developed Adam Wainwright in that fashion, and it turned out quite well for them -- but Wainwright had more than 100 minor-league starts before they brought him up. Mejia's minor-league experience is much less, and his numbers there were underwhelming.
On offense, the Mets will miss Daniel Murphy at first base, and as a result Mike Jacobs is the starter.
That, to me, is as depressing as any of the recent Mets developments. Not so much because I think Murphy is going to be gangbusters (though I do think he will have a solid year), but because Jacobs is going to not only going to play first, but apparently bat FOURTH.
Why Jerry Manuel is hitting him fourth is beyond me. If anything, he should just fill whatever spot Murphy was going to have, sixth or seventh. But in an attempt to go right-left-right in the absence of Beltran, he's got Jacobs and his donut-hole swing batting cleanup. Insane.
Why not have a top five of Angel Pagan, Luis Castillo, David Wright, Bay and Francoeur? In the sixth spot, I'd have used Chris Carter instead of Jacobs, who should be in the AL or in the minors somewhere. Carter is younger (not very young, I know), hungrier, a better fielder and had a much better spring. Jacobs is a retread. Period.
Bay will be fine at Citi Field, which is a pitcher's park but not the death valley the media makes it out to be. In fact, had the Mets not lost so many games to injury last season they likely would have finished around the league average in home runs. Francoeur was resurgent in trying times and has quickly become a positive clubhouse presence. Pagan is a capable fill-in for Beltran (as long as it's only for two months), and Castillo doesn't deserve half of the flak he gets, even for his defense, which is limited.
Wright should bounce back from a season in which the injuries, the stadium and an altered plate approach conspired to knock down his power, and contradictorily raise both his batting average and strikeout totals. The key, as always, is Reyes. If he stays healthy, and I think he will, that makes a tremendous difference in a lineup that will get a similar jolt when Beltran returns.
Which brings us back to pitching. Had the 2-4 section of Pelfrey, Maine and Perez looked strong in the spring, there might have been more hope, even though the past is littered with spring training heros turned regular-season bums. It's just that we needed to see SOMETHING, and instead got nothing but more questions on the mound. Someone has to step up to make K-Rod worth what they're paying him.
One thing I do like is the underdog status. For the first time in five years, the expectations are low. No one anticipates the Mets to make the playoffs or do much better than .500, and maybe this group will respond to that. Maybe Perez swings back to his Good Ollie self, and Maine bounces back, and Pelfrey gets mean, and Niese is the real deal.
Maybe. Hey, it's something.
Showing posts with label 2010. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2010. Show all posts
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Just when I thought I was out...

In The Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell (who in a baseball cap would look a lot like Bake McBride), writes about the 'epidemic' of teen smoking and points out that addiction to nicotine isn't the same for everyone. Which is one reason why some people can give up smoking soon after starting, others smoke less frequently, and others kill themselves with three packs a day.
Which is to say, if the Mets were cigarettes, I'd have a hole in my trachea by now.
For several years I was the primary writer for Mets Fan Club, a site very near and dear to my heart. But after enduring the NLCS Game 7 loss and the called third strike in 2006, the collapse of 2007 and the World's Most Dangerous Bullpen in 2008, I couldn't find the strength to write about the Mets in 2009. I did a season preview, but a few weeks in, I was done. Spent. Toast. So I took the season off.
Good call.
It was refreshing to just be a fan and not have to post about every win or loss, or speculate about why the Mets were getting injured so often, or why Mets fans in general were getting more and more defeatist and annoying. And with the way last season went, I would have been lucky to have not had a breakdown by the Fourth of July.
Now it's 2010. The hot stove period is all but over and pitchers and catchers report in a little more than two weeks. The Mets added a power bat in left field with Jason Bay, but haven't yet added a starting pitcher. Carlos Delgado is thankfully gone, Luis Castillo is still here, and with any luck Daniel Murphy will be given a real chance to play at first base.
I could have continued to be just another fan. But the call of the blog is a strong one, and of the pro teams I root for (Jets, Mets and Islanders -- yikes), the Mets are the team that I think about, worry about and enjoy talking about the most.
Maybe it's because my first real sports memory was of playing baseball in the street at age six in 1975 and thinking that a third-place finish for the Mets wasn't so bad. (Little did I know what the next few years would bring). Maybe it's all the games of Strat-O-Matic I played where the Mets always were much better than they were in real life. Maybe it's because baseball's season is so long, there's always plenty to think and talk about.
But there's another reason I got back into the blogging game. I try my best to be positive, without drinking the Kool-Aid. I was also a reporter and editor for many years, so I've learned to look at things objectively, the opposite of a fan.
Of course, it's been tough to remain optimistic or even objective about the Mets given the last three-plus years, but Mets-bashing has become a little too popular for my taste. And while I can almost forgive the media from piling on, what gets me is how many Mets fans are so quick to lay the blame or drive the next nail into the coffin.
Believe me, I understand the frustration. I feel the pain. I was there when Endy Chavez made The Catch, and Yadier Molina homered, and Carlos Beltran struck out. The collapse was sheer water torture. But had the Mets' bullpen been able to avoid just a couple of its mind-boggling 29 blown saves (and had Brad Lidge not been friggin' perfect), the Mets would have won the division in '08. And while everyone loves to say "injuries aren't an excuse," when your starters and their backups also get hurt, there's no way to compete. No one's bench is that deep and talented. Not even the Yankees.
Yes, the Mets have issues in 2010. I admit I'm not completely confident in the front office.
But while patience is in short supply surrounding this team, I'll do my best to retain mine.
(And just a note on Citi Field. If I am at a Mets game, wearing my Mets gear, surrounded by thousands of other fans wearing their Mets colors and cheering for the Mets, who are on the field below me, I do not need to see Mets logos and colors everywhere I turn to remind me that I am, in fact, at a Mets game. I don't care what color the outfield wall is.)
So, somewhere between sanity and insanity is Metsanity. An island of calm in a roiling sea of blather and bombast.
Where we recall Jon Matlack, Bruce Boisclair and Doug Flynn as fondly as Nails, Backman, Keith, Straw or Doc.
Where we remember the Grand Slam single (and still hear the ringing in our ears) -- but never did see the ball clear the wall from our seats in the Mezzanine.
Where Mike Piazza's No. 31 and Keith Hernandez' No. 17 are retired on our outfield wall and a statue of Tom Seaver stands proudly before the rotunda, its right arm cocked and right knee scraping dirt off a bronze mound.
Where we enjoy a pulled pork sandwich from Blue Smoke and shed no tears for Shea.
Where The Curly Shuffle and Luna Mezzo Mare are the only songs allowed to be played during the seventh inning stretch.
Where I'll be for the rest of the year and maybe longer, depending on how my nerves and my heart hold out.
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