Just like the Mets to eviserate the momentum of their resounding day-game victory (and series sweep) at Yankee Stadium with a stinker against a sack of crap making what is likely to be his only effective start of the year. Tyler Clippard? Dwight Gooden? No, this time, it’s Sidney Ponson. Kill me.
Thanks for hanging in during the break — I spent an almost entirely Metless week in the wildnerness — dim nighttime radio reception brought me bits of two horrifying losses to Seattle and pretty good reception of a Binghamton Mets game in which their manager was ejected and suspended (for what? I dunno). Reading up on the transactions and comments, I see the Mets designated Claudio Vargas for asignment and recalled reliver Carlos Muniz.
They also acquired infielder Andy Phillips via waivers and added him to the active roster while sending down pointless third catcher Robinson Cancel. Phillips was issued No. 29 — the third time that number was issued this season.
Oh, and Willie Randolph was fired again — this time by the NL All-Stars. Ouch.
The Mets tonight welcome a healthy Pedro Martinez back to the team, hopefully to stay awhile but you never know. To make room they optioned newly activated reliever Carlos Muniz. Claudio Vargas in the meantime got a sudden introduction to his new role as a long man, mopping up for irritating lefty Oliver Perez after the Giants bashed Perez for six momentum-eviserating runs in one-third of an inning Monday.
The arrangement saves a starting assignment for Mike Pelfrey, who, for all of his struggles has turned in more quality starts with a lot less hype than, say, Joba Chamberlain, Phil Hughes and Ian Kennedy combined. Oliver Perez too for that matter.
Pelfrey may not ever be the guy the Mets hoped he’d be when they called his name in Omar Minaya’s first draft as head honcho three years ago this week, but finding that out is the right thing to do.
Speaking of anniversaries, it was 10 years ago this Sunday that while playing ultimate frisbee in Yonkers, I collapsed to the turf with what would later be diagnosed as a ruptured Achilles tendon. Aside from effectively ending a maniacal pursuit to become the world’s most famous frisbee player, the coming months off my feet for surgery and subsequent rehab would lead to the even stupider quest to chronicle every uniform number in Mets history.