Friday, February 22, 2008

INFORMATION OVERLOAD.

There is such a thing as too much coverage.

I never thought I’d say that, but it’s only the first week of Spring Training and I already have information fatigue. Just like most of you, I am reading everything I can get my hands on, and I’ve resubscribed to everything I had unsubscribed from in the offseason.

I like reading different perspectives. I especially like the blogs the beat reporters kept during Spring Training last year. I felt like the blogs captured the color of what it was like to be down there. I liked hearing writers complain about how boring PSL is, I liked hearing where they went for lunch, I liked getting a feel for what they were doing, even if it was boring.

This year is different.

This year it seems that even more beat writers are down there and that every single one of them have started blogs. While you would think that would be a GOOD thing, I look at the firehose of coverage and think:

Everyone is writing the same thing.

Fair enough, if Jay Horowitz decides that he’s giving everyone access to Carlos Delgado for the day, then everyone’s going to write about Carlos Delgado. If you are down there and you are a beat reporter and everyone else is writing about Carlos Delgado and you decide to write about the security guard at one of the back fields who is from New Jersey and got married the same year the Mets started and used to have season tickets (and I’ll bet anything that guy is still there), your editor is, most probably, going to be on the phone pretty quick asking you why you didn’t write about Carlos Delgado since everyone else did. And, even if your editor is a kind and generous sort, you will post the article on your blog and then have to tolerate 99 comments asking you why you didn’t get to talk to Carlos Delgado that day.

And while you might think, well, can’t they do both, there’s a lot of copy you have to generate, and only so many hours in a day. The practical journalist is going to attend to meat and potatoes.

I never thought I’d get tired of hearing what great shape Duaner Sanchez is in, but at this point…

Okay, so maybe I’m not. But I thought I was for a few seconds there.

You know it’s bad when we’re getting a story like this filed - from David Lennon, who is probably writing the best coverage from PSL these days. I mean, the thought of Pedro dancing to Milli Vanilli (and that a beat reporter would actually meet his dare), but I’m not sure we needed a separate line item about that.

Here’s a sample from my RSS reader, to try to make my point better:

I want to know where “Santana moves right foot” and “Santana moves left foot” are.

[And - really? There’s no snow in Port St. Lucie? What would we do without one of the beat writers letting us know.]

[Okay, I’ll stop being snarky now.]

Now, I could unsubscribe from some of these feeds. But, I like making my own information choices and I don’t need someone to digest them for me (and I don’t want to have to deal with someone else’s filter, either). I just wonder what this adds to the experience, and if there isn’t a better way to do it.

Friday, February 15, 2008

SINGLE-GAME TICKETS ON SALE MARCH 9.

I realize most of you reading this have this date burned in your brain. However, for my friends from other places and who support other teams, and want to come see them at Shea (or want to make it to Shea before they knock the place down), it bears a reminder. I know there are some Rockies fans and some Mariners fans heading our way.  For any of you, I’m happy to offer ticket purchasing advice in the comments.

Keep in mind that that day is when Daylight Savings ends (Spring Ahead, Fall Back!) so don’t oversleep!

We need to take a look at the calendar now and make our own plans. TBF is of course making noises now about reacquiring our Saturday plan, so I don’t know how many extra games we’re likely to pick up right now. Like everyone else on the planet, we want to be at Santana’s first start. Ideally, it would be at the home opener, and we would be set. However, knowing the Mets, who knows what they’ll decide. We may end up buying a game or two on spec just in case.

What is everyone else buying?

Thursday, February 14, 2008

IT’S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR.

About time.

Strange how this moment has turned from gritted-teeth well-at-least-its-BASEBALL to OMG I CAN’T WAIT.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

CITIFIELD UPDATE.

Friday, February 08, 2008

YET ANOTHER REASON

...to love Fire Joe Morgan, as they tackle That Article everyone is talking about today, the sportswriter from Philadelphia who had clearly just obtained press credentials, had never been to a press conference, nor eaten the food in any Diamond Club anywhere:

It was all very understated, as per the local custom.

Well, the time for restraint is definitely: introducing the best pitcher in baseball to fans and media who follow the team. I’m thinking a terse press release, (“Santana signs with Mets. ‘We are pleased,’ say team officials, understatedly.”), followed by an ascetic black-and-white photograph session. Water should be served (room-temperature) and then local and state police calmly but firmly escort people to the exits.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

SOONER OR LATER IT ALL COMES DOWN TO MONEY.

There are certain undeniable baseball truths in our house: You Only Get One Team, The Only True Mets Uniform Is Pinstripes, You Can’t Like The Yankees AND The Mets, You Don’t Leave A Game Before The Final Out (amongst others).

Add to that: The Boras Clients Only Go For The Money.

I have tried to argue and debate this, I have tried to formulate convincing arguments. TBF will not be moved. During the entire Zito debacle, I offered many convincing, well-researched and thought-out theories about why Barry Zito would make the right choice and come to the Mets.

“It’s only about the money. Period. The Boras clients ONLY go for the money.”

I learned that he was right about this the hard way (although in the end we are all grateful daily that we didn’t cough up the money for Zito, of course).

At the end of the press conference last night, TBF says, “Now we just gotta lock up Perez.”
“I know. It’s making me nervous that we haven’t.”
He loves Oliver. He has a custom Perez shirt (because, of course, the frickin Mets can’t bother to SELL SHIRTS FOR THE STARTING ROTATION). He is one of his favorite players to watch.

I didn’t know exactly how nervous I was going to be until I read on Metsblog this morning that Senor Sabor is represented by the Great Satan. And that, of course, no, he is not interested in a long-term deal with the Mets.

Here we go again.

I love Oliver Perez. I love his goofiness, his lack of inhibition, he’s like a computer geek who’s ended up as a Major League Baseball pitcher completely by accident. I love the hops over the foul line: ebullient when he’s nailed it, fierce when he’s struggling, they say everything about his attitude and his spirit. I love that he rocks the high socks. I love when he comes to the plate, because you feel like he’s just trying so hard and that he honestly believes that he’s going to get that hit (unlike, say, John Maine, whose entire stance broadcasts, I have no fucking idea what I’m doing but I have to do this so let’s give it a go.).  I love that he was a reclamation project that everyone else had given up on, until he met the Jedi Master, Rick Peterson.

And, of course, most importantly, I love that he is Senor Sabor and what happens when he throws that ball.

I would be unbelievably sad if we lost Oliver Perez, and I know that there is nothing we can do except hope that the Wilpons will open the checkbook. The thing is, no matter how much we want Oliver, there is somebody who is going to want him more. And now we know that it will come down to the checkbook, and nothing, not loving playing in New York, not the people who he is playing with, not the thought of Johan Santana being available as a mentor of sorts, will change that.

It’s one thing to lose one of your favorite players in a trade. It’s another to lose him because Macphisto is ruling with an iron fist.

MEET THE PRESS.

I realize this has been analyzed twelve ways to Sunday already, but here’s some thoughts:

• Johan was exceedingly well-spoken and composed. He was not rattled. This bodes well.
• If you listen closely, he has a little bit of a Midwestern accent - just like Delgado has the slightest trace of a New York accent. (I mean, Delgado’s English is almost perfect, but he’s definitely got those Bensonhurst “R’s” sometimes.)
• Not too many cliches. It didn’t feel rehearsed, it just felt like he thought about what he might want to say before he said it.
• He may give the other snappy dressers on the team a run for their money.
• Willie looks very bald without a hat, which is how we see him 99.9% of the time.
• David Wright, you couldn’t shave? I know it’s the off season, but still.
• However, the big shit-eating grin on DW’s face said it all, and was only matched by the big smile on TBF’s the entire press conference.
• To the moron with the $5 digital camera that was in front of the SNY camera, I hope someone beat the crap out of you later.
• Alan Schwartz: Can we just have him ask all the questions?
• Our Spanish comprehension was pretty good as a group.
• TBF was pleased, nay, delighted that the jersey was “the proper jersey” and “the proper hat.”
• This was a big event so I was pleased to see the Mets actually ACT like it was a big event.

You know what? We got Johan Santana.

I just can’t say that enough.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

THIS IS IT.

I have been in meetings all day, uptown and downtown, and surrounded by Yankees fans. The press conference is taped on the DVR and I imagine we will order something nice and sit and watch it together.

That’s our idea of a good night at Chez MetsGrrl + TBF.

I haven’t peeked beyond the pictures. I just want that classic press conference moment when he puts on the jersey and the hat. So formulaic, but the formula is part of the appeal.

More later, but for now (and especially for my friends from the great state of Minnesota):

MetsBlog photos from the press conference
AP Wire

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

NO, SERIOUSLY.

You didn’t believe me, did you?

I was delighted to learn on MetsBlog yesterday that the Mets were telling people that shirts would be available today. Given their past successes in making merchandise available to people who want to buy it, I was not optimistic that the mental giants in the merch department would step on it any time before Opening Day.

But the MetsBlog post made it abundantly clear that shirts were available - they were even available yesterday! - and so at lunchtime, I sent TBF a text:

LUNCH PLANS? WANT TO GO TO CHIPOTLE* + METS STORE?

He met me on the corner of 5th and 42nd. With great excitement, we walked down the block and entered the Team Store, where, with uncharacteristic common sense, the SANTANA 57 shirts were hung just inside the doorway - what was left of them, anyway. There were four hangers empty and two still full.

I pounce. I rejoice. We once again burble how happy we are. While I am paying for my purchase, the phone rings. “We have black in XL and XXL. Jerseys will be in later this week.”

Of course, since THE GUYS WHO WORK AT THE METS TEAM STORE ON 42ND STREET ARE YANKEES FANS, the entire process, which should have been a joy and a delight, was somewhat muted.

(On that note, I have heard these guys telling tourists that they couldn’t tell them anything about Shea Stadium because they were Yankees fans. One of them even had his Yankees-themed iPod barely out of sight under the counter today. No, seriously, they couldn’t get a job at the *Yankees* team store? These were the most qualified individuals to hold these particular jobs? At the major presence the Mets have in Midtown, we have YANKEES fans representing? WTF?)

It is silly, I know, to buy a shirt I can’t even wear yet, except around the house, or maybe to the gym. Opening Day is two months away. And I could have waited, I could have saved my $20 and put it towards a jersey, or something.

But I wanted to buy the shirt today. At the Team Store. It’s like running around the arena to find the place that’s selling the event-specific shirt or the event-specific poster. It’s like waiting in line at 11:59pm on a Monday night so you can get the record coming out THE NEXT DAY at 12:01 sharp.

It is my ritual, my way of doing things from other lives that fits here, makes sense here, makes sense to me. I don’t know what you’re ‘supposed’ to do but this, this felt dead right. I want to be able to say in years to come, Remember when we signed Santana? Man, I cut out of work on a busy day to run and buy a shirt so I could have it right away.

It may not be “Where were you when you heard we traded Seaver” or “Where were you when you heard we signed Piazza?” but it’s what I got. You have to start somewhere.

*(For those not denizens of Midtown Manhattan, they are, conveniently, adjacent to each other.)

Saturday, February 02, 2008

“EVERY BATTER LOOKS LIKE HANNAH MONTANA.”

Kick ass. Kuff and the Buttheads [check their MySpace page] of Mets Weekly fame have already written their ode to Johan Santana.

all the pain from last year is gone
the fans are happy with fred wilpon
omar smiles because the deal is done
willie says, “let’s go johan”