Angry Ward Wednesday: The World is on Fire, So Let’s Talk About the Mets!

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BRONX, NY – Yesterday, my colleague in sports blog poverty, Ben Whitney, wrote a nice rundown of the Yankees. So, even though the United States has flushed almost every last shred of human decency down Trump’s gold-plated sh!tter, the least I can do is lighten the mood by talking about that hilarious troupe of baseball improv artists, the New York Mets. Where to begin?

Sleeping with the Fishes. The Mets started last night’s action (and I use that word lightly with this team) only 4 games out of last place in the NL East. If not for the Miami Marlins, a team Derek Jeter gutted so completely that it began the season as baseball’s version of the post-fire Triangle Shirtwaist Factory (see below), the Metsies would be bottom dwellers for sure. And they still may. To call their offense anemic is an insult to anemia. Let’s take a look at some of the stars.

Brandon Nimmo. How desperate have things become for Mets fans? This guy, a fringe player at best, is now just about the most consistent offensive player they have. He’s kinda pasty-faced and has a big gummy smile, so of course they love him in Queens. Which reminds me, if you haven’t see any of the John Mulaney stand-up specials on Netflix, do yourself a favor and check them out. Really funny.

Jacob deGrom. What’s happened to deGrom this season is tantamount to a Law & Order SVU marathon. The Mets just scored 12 runs for him the other night, which means they won’t score again for him until sometime in 2021. He deserves so much better, but if they trade him they might as well turn Citi Field into the biggest scrapyard in Flushing… as if it isn’t already. Old man Alderson is fond of his lemons and jalopies.

Jose Reyes. How is this guy still taking up space on a major league roster? You know what? I’m not even gonna post his picture. He’s a waste of space.

Devin Mesoraco. I’m sure he’s a good guy and all, and I know this term is frowned upon, but Devin Mesoraco kinda looks like Vince Vaughn’s retarded cousin. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still take him over Reyes and Travis d’Arnaud and Matt Harvey, but the kid needs a new headshot.

Jeurys Familia. I am done with this guy! Do you hear me? Done! Show him the door already. I’m sure the Mets can maybe even get a tiny bit of trade value for him. But right now, for me, I look at the guy and I see Armando Benitez and Mel Rojas and Billy Wagner, and so many other Mets Closer failures. The guy never has a 1-2-3 inning, and has been Weekend at Bernie’s II-awful for quite some time.

Todd Frazier. I watched the original Jaws the other night, and the scene with guy who’s green bloated head with the eyeball popped out coming out of the chewed up hull of his boat and scaring Richard Dreyfuss’s Matt Hooper half to death reminded me of Todd Frazier’s career right now.

I could go on all night with this stuff, but I’m already running a little long. I see the Yankees dispatched my Mariners 7-2 (crap!), but they’ll hit the reset and give it another go in the Bronx this evening.

Come back tomorrow for Buddy Diaz, who will either talk about what’s happening at our borders, or something important – like who the Knicks might take in Thursday’s NBA draft.

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Wednesday: Angry Ward, who has admirers at the NY Times, is the quintessential angry sports fan but one exception... he's flat-out funny. And the angrier he gets, the more amusing his work becomes. Psychiatrists say, "Angry Ward's 'anger' is a direct result of "Bronx/Mets syndrome: growing up in the Bronx as a Mets fan." As if that weren't enough, his Minnesota North Stars abandoned him for Dallas, forcing him to embrace The Wild the way conservatives embrace Mitt Romney. While the Vikings tease him incessantly with flirtations of success, the Golden State Warriors, "Don't have a enough short, white angry guys but I don't dislike them... that much." A-Dubya is MTM's longest-tenured indentured servant, its Larry David and quite simply, The Franchise.

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