NEW YORK, NY – Knocking this one out on a dark and stormy Tuesday night. I’ll spare you all of the Agatha Christie particulars. Let’s just say that it’s pissing rain/snow, I just finished wolfing down a pork chop dinner (no offense to my Passover-celebrating neighbors), and I’m hoping that Yadier Molina somehow pushes my Beat the Streak total to 14. But to hell with all of that. Let’s sit down, pour a drink, and hash some stuff out.
Let’s Go Meds! Two nights ago the New York Mets limped into Arizona to play the Diamondbacks, the team with the worst record in Major League Baseball. The previous day, the Mets had their collective heads handed to them by an equally mediocre Angels team. Anyway, the Mets kicked the holy crap out of Arizona on Monday night but also managed to kick the crap out of themselves, as both Curtis Granderson and Juan Lagares left the game with injuries. For those of you scoring at home (congratulations!), save Eric Young Jr. (please, save him!) that pretty much means the entire Mets starting outfield has been injured this year. And we’re not yet three weeks into the season. For any team other than the Mets, it’s not time to hit the panic button. But, at this point, Terry Collins should be smashing his forehead against it. At least they get to play two more games against the league-worst D-Backs.
Donald F**k. I just read a headline that Donald Trump is interested in buying the Buffalo Bills and in keeping them in Buffalo. And if you believe any of that, you should be writing for this site expecting a nice big piece of future earnings. The Donald loves Buffalo the same way he did Marla Maples (seen jogging Sunday in Broad Channel): a nice big order of hot wings to devour before straightening what’s left of his hair and taking his business elsewhere. Jesus Christ! Hasn’t Buffalo suffered enough? If Trump, whose finances should never pass any kind of muster, were to purchase the Bills he would move them faster than you could say Scott Norwood. In fact, he’s probably take them “wide right“… all the way to London. In the name of Ralph Wilson, please don’t let Trump ever become part of the conversation. Any conversation.
Pod vs. Post. This isn’t some new Mad Magazine “Spy vs. Spy” bit. I just thought I’d mention a recent phone chat I had with site management regarding their frustration about not enough people listening to, and commenting on, the new weekly podcasts. Fair enough. The podcasts featuring Short Matt, Fake Sandy, Mad Dog Russo, Real Sandy, Bobby V, Mikhail Prokhorov, and others are indeed funny. But can you really expect a reading-oriented crowd to seamlessly jump to an audio offering? You don’t need to look any further than ESPN’s Bill Simmons to get a fair take on this. He made his bones writing sports posts peppered with a healthy dose of pop culture references and, even more so, addressing reader mail. He then decided to devote most of his time to podcasts. And, could you really blame him? He would rather talk about the stuff he wanted to write about. I get it. But not everyone did. Most of “The Sport’s Guy’s” diehard fans still crave the written word and the give-and-take of reader mail. Simmons has since made his way to television and, if he had his druthers, would most likely be a full-time screenwriter one day. That’s him. As for this site, the podcasts are great but you can’t expect everyone to jump on board overnight. Even Gervais, Merchant, and Pilkington had growing pains fer crissakes! So I am urging management to have some patience with the podcasts and to perhaps take it slow with cranking them out. You could very well be the funniest kid in the class. But the funniest kid in the class never asks “Do you think I’m funny?” That being said…