A New Pen For Frankie

It’s never good when the security you hire to protect your players from fans, instead escorts your star closer to the police precinct built in your stadium to hold your unruly fans and not said closer. It gives “signaling to the pen for your closer” a whole new meaning.

The one thing to realize here with this is that this incident, despite the circumstantial evidence, didn’t necessarily happen because Frankie Rodriguez was pissed about not pitching in Wednesday night’s loss. Maybe, it could have been something else completely. Could have been something that nobody knows about. We might never know what set Frankie off. Maybe it was the eighth inning. Maybe it was Randy Niemann. Maybe it was transference from the Castillo pop-up that had been building up. Or maybe it was the way The Sopranos ended. Hey, maybe the father-in-law was in the wrong. Maybe he threw the first punch. Maybe he accused Frankie of cheating at dominoes. Maybe he told Frankie that McDonald’s didn’t serve Egg McMuffins at 10:30 PM. Maybe he said “Hey Frankie, you look like Lincoln with that beard.” Who the hell knows.

But it sure as hell doesn’t look good in any direction, does it? Third degree assault is third degree assault.

I was talking to a cabbie the other night and he was telling me how his friend had stopped bothering watching the Mets. My response was that the fun in watching the Mets these days was not that they lost, but how they would lose. And what disgrace would befall them in the process. I had know idea how right I was. (And as you know, I absolutely hate being right.)

Bad enough a trade for Mike Bordick at the beginning of the decade would continue to haunt the Mets at the beginning of the following decade as Melvin Mora smacked a grand slam off Manny Acosta … you know, the circumstantial evidence that set Frankie off after the game. And bad enough David Wright earned himself a golden sombrero.

Of course, Frankie Rodriguez tops ’em all, punching out a family member at his job. Let that rattle around your brain. He assaulted family at the place where he works. How bad is your life that it comes to that?

I can honestly tell you that I don’t know what to say anymore. I don’t know how much more Met fans are supposed to put up with. I know it doesn’t directly affect anybody else other than Frankie, his family, and the organization. And I know that if blame is laid here, it’s most likely going to go to Frankie and not the organization, unless some wacky details make themselves known. But it’s another stake to the heart of Met fans who have put up with, to be honest and blunt, some really stupid shit over the last two, five, fifteen, 24 seasons. And it’s getting old. You think Met fans are going to grow apathetic because of a 42-game stretch without two straight victories? Let’s see what happens when one of the megastars of your team sends his father-in-law to the hospital in Citi Field’s Family Lounge.

The family lounge!!!

Yeah, it’s time for this season to end. When there’s a 50/50 chance the next time we see the closer on television it’ll be not on SNY, but on MSNBC, it’s time for the 2010 season to die a merciful death.