The Mets on Saturday were like a baby kicking and streaming. Good parents can get a baby to sleep very quick. Homer Bailey is a good parent. He had that baby snoring after three innings. The Mets had six hits all game … five in the first three innings. After that, the Mets couldn’t hit Homer Bailey. The Mets fell asleep, and heck I fell asleep. Maybe Bailey had us all under a hypnotic spell. Maybe every time somebody snaps their fingers I’ll start singing Our Team Our Time. Or maybe when somebody says “the fault lies not in our stars but in ourselves“, I’ll start going up to people offering to show them the Bronx.
The good part is that at least Saturday’s Jay Bruce home run didn’t put anybody on the disabled list. Of course it might have taken a planet out of orbit, but outside of maybe a poor soul in the Pepsi Porch getting conked in the head because they were texting instead of watching the game, nobody got physically hurt. This, once again, is progress.
Mentally? Who knows. The Mets bounced back from a horrible week with a feel good sweep of the Rays in Tampa. They’re now in the process of undoing that good will by getting swept by the Reds. Chris Young will be the guy to try to stop this latest round of bleeding. Somebody snap their fingers and get me out of this damn spell.
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