|
"Ooohhh the pain, the PAIN, Mets fans!"
We go out to Arizona — Chase Field, house of horrors — and what do the Mets do in Game 1 of the Wild Card Series? I’ll tell ya what they do: NOTHING! Absolute nothingness after the first inning. One run in the first, and then you could’ve taken a nap until the ninth because they didn’t do JACK.
You got Pedro Castro, some guy who sounds like he should be running a cigar shop in the Dominican Republic, and he’s out there looking like Juan Marichal, shoving for seven innings, three hits, one run, the Mets making him look like prime Pedro Martínez. Unbelievable.
The Mets offense? Fuggedaboutit.
Three hits! Three!!
And two of them were from Brubaker! Nobody else showed up.
Quinones? Oh-for-the-series so far.
Bosquez? Struck out twice, did nothing.
Huerta? Left about 40 guys on base.
It’s the same old Mets: scoring one run and then going into a medically induced coma.
And don’t get me started— the errors!
Stacks, Maurizi… Can we play some clean baseball please!?
It’s October baseball, not a Sunday beer league in Hoboken!
Meanwhile Arizona… they didn’t exactly light the world on fire either, but they didn’t have to.
They just… chipped away.
One run here, two runs there, tack on another in the eighth.
Ramos drives one in. Castro drives in two. Boom. Ballgame.
And how about this:
The D-backs leave nine guys stranded and STILL beat the Mets by three!
That's how bad the Mets were, bro. They couldn’t take advantage of ANYTHING.
Nestor Vigil… the poor guy pitched his heart out!
Seven innings, eight hits, four runs but only one earned.
I mean WHAT ARE WE DOIN’?
Give the guy some defense, give him a little run support, SOMETHING.
But no. The Mets waste another good outing. What else is new?!
Save situation for Whaley? Pffft. Easiest save of his LIFE.
Two innings, zero hits. BRO, the Mets weren’t hitting off a pitching machine at that point.
Bottom line, Mets fans…
You’re down 1–0 in the series.
You scored one run.
You looked lifeless.
If they don’t wake up tomorrow, forget it — season’s over, kaput, goodnight Irene.
And I’ll say this — brace yourselves —
This had BIG TIME 2006 Game 7 "looking at strike three" energy.
Just sleepwalking into the offseason.
|