Some good rips in here from Tim Marchman, who is always entertaining, but he writes for The Sun which actually now has fewer readers than the Mets Police.
There was a brief time in which it seemed as if the Mets, with several of the best young players in baseball, a new television network, Citi Field on the rise, and shrewd, even-keeled management, could not possibly botch things up. There was also a brief time in which it seemed that Gregg Jefferies would join Darryl Strawberry and Dwight Gooden in leading the Mets on a thousand-year reign of terror. In one case as the other, the natural order asserted itself, and the franchise continued its long history of agonizing farce.
The worst thing about all this, of course, is that the team isn’t even entertainingly dreadful, as the Jeff Torborg/Dallas Green Mets were, but rather relentlessly dreary, along the lines of Art Howe’s clubs. If the Mets are doomed to follow a cyclical pattern of tantalizing success followed by miserable under-performance, as they have as long as I’ve been alive, the least they can do in the down years is be truly wretched. Luis Castillo and musings on SNY’s camerawork are a long, long way from Anthony Young and threats to show reporters the Bronx. This team isn’t even any good at being bad.
Great read here for those of you that don’t subscribe to the New York Sun.
