I was asked yesterday about the Mets’ second half struggles. ”What’s going on with them?” the person in question said.
Without thinking, I replied, “Lack of talent. They have a bunch of mediocre players left over from the previous front office, and no money to spend on better players because they got ripped off by Bernie Madoff.”
The words rolled off my tongue as easily as, “I’ll have the number 2 with a coke, no ketchup, no mayo.” (which is another story for another time)
I realize the first part of my mini-diatribe is controversial – Team Omar will point to Sandy Alderson’s lack of blockbuster moves (because that worked out so well for Omar), and Team Sandy will point to Omar Minaya’s reckless spending. But the entire diatribe is really directed at the Wilpons.
Minaya – and Steve Phillips before him – spent money because the Wilpons gave him a blank check. They thought they had limitless money because Madoff told them so. But every good party comes a terrible hangover. Every ounce of pleasure is paid for with an ounce of pain.
Now, the team is attempting to move forward. This isn’t the walk of shame anymore. Now, they’re picking up the various flotsam scattered across the apartment from last night. How did that Bonilla get there? What is this? An anterior capsule? Yuck! There are empty bottles of champagne that have “vintage 2006″ on the label, but when you look closer, it’s just sparkling wine from Paul Masson. Your most popular party guests, Carlos Beltran and Jose Reyes, went home with someone else, but for some reason, David Wright is still here, coyly saying he’d like to help you clean up. A couple of friends you just met, Matt Harvey and Zack Wheeler, just brought you some Tylenol and Gatorade.
There’s a lot of work to do, but maybe once the carpets are shampooed and a couple of Glade plug-ins are installed, they can get back on their feet again. Yeah, this place has potential. But how are we gonna get the 800-pound Bay out of here?