Those asterisks are my own.
Anyone see 28 Days Later? Anyone? Anyone?
Bike messenger wakes from a coma to find London and, indeed, most of England, taken over by fast-moving zombie-like creatures. If you saw I Am Legend, you saw the conceit yanked to an unfortunate computer-generated extreme; this Danny Boyle movie of which I speak does proper service to fear. Though it was a shame to see the German Shepherd succumb in Will Smith’s vehicle (they are not two movies with the same plot; just similar-ish symptoms to a vague disease).
The problem I have with both films is I find it hard to believe that anyone THAT sick can move THAT fast, regardless if they have issues with ultraviolet light. When I see guys go down, they move fairly slow. Sometimes, they need carts to help them out. Not intimidating.
The list of currently disabled Mets (or, if you prefer, Mets with disabilities):
- John Maine
- J.J. Putz
- Billy Wagner
- Carlos Delgado
- Ramon Martinez
- Jose Reyes
- Carlos Beltran
- Fernando Martinez
Add to that Gary Sheffield, who is day-to-day, and Fernando Nieve, who will be day-to-day, then placed on the DL once they find enough change to load up the MRI machine and stick him in there.
I’ve already excoriated the Mets front office with playing fast and loose with either their facts or their process of information gathering or their responsibility to level with the fans. At this point, the training staff will need to book a crew from the HBO documentary set and give them unfettered, twenty-four hour access to the training room, the Hospital For Special Surgery, and any vehichle used to transport injured Mets across our local bridges and highways.
When David Wright wakes up from his daily coma, though, he doesn’t find terminally-ill position players given superhuman strength through dint of their virus. Even if he did, I don’t believe Jerry Manuel to have the talent to persuade crazed neo-zombies to properly settle under a pop-up and catch with two hands.
Luis Castillo has that going for him: he’s better than a neo-zombie. But I kid Castillo, whose hitting streak is still alive. Double-digits or bust, Luis. …Wait. No. No bust. Do not bust. Far too much busting lately.
So no open review of the Mets training staff is going to help the guys on the field. But as no help seems to be imminent for the guys on the field, I do not withdraw my demand to get something of the sort. The real hard work for the Mets is keeping confidence for this year in the face of long odds so that more confidence is not lost in the fan base next year.
I will gladly sit in cushy field level seats, don’t get me wrong; if fan confidence takes a nosedive then I expect I’ll be able to buy tickets for sixty bucks and take in the game within earshot of David Wright. But if the fan base deserts, there may be scant money to get players in the house that will bring fans back that will give the Mets a chance at the postseason that will bring fans back the year after. See what I’m saying? Of course you do.
So aside from still trying to make a run this year–and as I’ve lived through a team losing a seven-game lead with seventeen to play, I’m not discounting such a run in the opposite direction or even interested in calling the hypothetical a miracle–the Mets have a responsibility to weigh actions to make next year a better one. This is a tough thing to do. But not impossible.
However, that job’s being botched by injuries and the treatment of injuries. It seems even David, our bike messenger awakened to find a horror shop of pain and abject misery, has settled on injuries and plowing through those injuries as this year’s story. Jerry Manuel’s joking out of turn about it (find it on Metsblog here and the Daily News here and… well, where have you been?) cements the point. This is the story.
Mets, your job: control the story. At this point in D.C. politics, an injury czar would’ve been appointed.
It may be that, as declared by frantic writing on the church wall, “the end is extremely ******* nigh,” and it may be that the only thing to do is to survive and plot and plan for escape. But this movie’s gettin’ real dull without the cavalry. Let’s just hope the season doesn’t follow 28 Days Later too closely. I’d hate to think that Omar Minaya has Carlos Beltran chained up somewhere.
Given Beltran’s angry despondence over his knee, though, it may be wise for him to be so chained, for Mr. Minaya’s protection.
