It’s 12-0 Dodgers in this stupid game right now. Robert Gsellman’s mammaries have been lit. Corey Seager has hit a solo home run, a two run home run, and a three run home run. And came within ten feet of hitting a grand slam. A run just scored because T.J. Rivera reached out for a force play at third and missed the damn ball. So I’m not waiting until the end of the game to blog so that I can get a halfway decent night’s sleep. Terry Collins might put forth some fire and brimstone after this game, and this blog post will miss that. But you know what? I don’t care. It won’t matter. He can talk about accountability and about worrying about who’s here and not about who’s not. It won’t do a damn bit of good.
The Mets have, so far, given up 22 runs in the last two games. Managers and general managers get fired after games like this. But if the Mets didn’t do anything from 2010-2014, they sure as hell ain’t doing anything now. All the excuses are in place. They’re hurt. The ball is wound tighter. The Super Two cutoff is too late. Whatever. The Mets are playing out the string and we haven’t even gotten to the NBA Draft yet. I might blog about hamburgers the rest of the season.
Good job, Summer Solstice. This is absolutely the longest day of the year.
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