Warning: This story may gross you out at the conclusion. Consider yourself warned.
My vomit streak may not rival that of Jerry Seinfeld's, but I mark the last day I upchucked as a significant one in my history as a football fan.
On December 29, 2002 the Jets were in the final week of a multi-team AFC playoff mishmash involving the Patriots, Dolphins and Cleveland Browns, one caused by an awful loss against the Bears a few weeks earlier. The Jets were facing the Packers at the Meadowlands at 4pm but needed the right combination of results at 1pm to set up a scenario by which beating Green Bay would mean a postseason spot. It had been an exciting, up-and-down season, one in which Chad Pennington made his first impact on the New York sports scene, taking over as the team's starting quarterback early in the season and leading them to several impressive wins. My dad and I had gone to the Meadowlands a couple of times that season and he suggested we make another trip. I resisted, partly because while football games provide a fun atmosphere, they're not necessarily better to view in person.
"I think this will play out better if we watch it on tv," I told him.
Around noonish, I went across the street from my apartment for lunch at a pizza place. For some reason, rather than get a couple of slices, I ordered a chicken parm hero and washed it down with a bottle of Orange Gatorade. It was not a good mixture.
Basically the Jets needed either the Browns to lose to the Falcons, or the Dolphins to lose to the Patriots to render their game meaningful and those two games caused their share of gastric distress on their own.
The Browns led 10-0, trailed 16-10, then went ahead in the fourth quarter and cemented their lead with just under four minutes to play when William Green's touchdown run put them in front 24-16.
Meanwhile, the Dolphins were dominating. Ricky Williams, who rushed for 185 yards, ran for two first-half scores and Miami's lead was rather comfy at 14-0, 21-10, and 24-13 with just under five minutes to play.
Now with my health issues gradually worsening, I decided that desperate times called for desperate actions. I gathered myself together, grabbed the remote control and moved, from my computer desk to an area maybe 18 inches from my television set and stretched out. It was time to invoke the power of "The Spot."
I wrote a lengthy essay on this after the fact (I've also seen articles on the subject by Bill Simmons), but to summarize, "The Spot" can be defined as the place that a sportsfan rests or contorts his/her body to bring good luck to a team. There is limited movement allowed, except in cases of emergency. Being in the spot requires maximum concentration and positive energy. The location varies from house to house and moment to moment, but a true fan has an intuitive sense as to where it should be at a particular time. In this case, it was lying down 18 inches from my TV.
I don't have an exact timeline of the events of the day, but as I recall it went something like this.
The Falcons drove the ball to Cleveland's four-yard line with less than two minutes remaining. The Patriots started a drive as well, but were still two scores behind, so I harnessed my energy towards Cleveland.
Warrick Dunn rushed for three yards on first down (So far so good), so it seemed reasonable that with three shots, Atlanta would score and get a two-point conversion chance. Dunn got stopped at the line of scrimmage on second down (OK, I can live with that, more positive vibes coming), then stopped again at the line of scrimmage on third down (uh-oh), and then, amazingly stopped again at the line of scrimmage on fourth down (negative energy overflow causes stomach to churn violently). Browns win. This spot was batting .000, a sign that you're supposed to try another. The Jets options rested in Miami. My options rested 18 inches from the TV, as I was feeling both sportingly ill and humanly sick.
(switch to New England-Miami telecast)
The good news was that the Patriots drive was a successful one. Tom Brady threw a touchdown pass to Troy Brown, the two-point conversion was successful, so the Patriots trailed by only three points with 2:46 to play.
I'd like to think at this point that the power of my spot, combined with those of other Jets fans, sitting in their apartment, took over at this point, because the Dolphins went into all-time brainlock mode. First they misjudged New England's intentions on the kickoff, and Travis Minor watched a deep kick die down shy of the end zone. Travis Minor fielded it and got pummeled on his own four-yard line. Then, Dave Wannstedt decided that rather than hand the ball to Williams, who could have all but ended the game with a nice run or two, that the Dolphins would throw the ball. Two incompletions and a short quarterback run later, Miami was forced to punt and their subsequent kick was horrendous. New England got the ball back at the Dolphins 34. They barely had to move to get in field goal range and Adam Vinatieri was clutch, hitting from 43 yards out to tie the game with 1:09 left. The Dolphins conceded on their next possession, setting up overtime, which began right around the same time the Jets and Packers kicked off from the Meadowlands.
At this point, I'm ignoring every IM chime and focusing completely on the coin toss, fully believing in the value of "The Spot." If ever a game was won by a coin toss, it was this one. As soon as the coin landed, Tom Brady pumped his fist, and it was as if the Dolphins captains had just had their "deflate" button pushed. The Patriots got great field position when Miami's kickoff went out of bounds, and took advantage. A 20-yard pass from Brady to Kevin Faulk set up Vinatieri. This time his kic was true from 35 yards away and the Patriots had a miraculous walk-off victory. "The Spot" had worked its magic and now could safely be vacated, both as part of the ritual and for the good of my health.
(switch immediately to Jets telecast)
I have three really significant recollections of the Jets-Packers game that afternoon
1- The first words from FOX announcer Dick Stockton over a montage of pictures of Woody Johnson and other fans celebrating New England's win: "And now the Jets have everything to play for..."
2- The Jets could do no wrong in this game. Sometimes you just know that your team is going to win, kind of like how you know when you've picked out the best place for "The Spot." I've spoken to a lot of Mets fans who knew that the Mets were going to win Game 7 of the World Series. Once the Patriots beat the Dolphins, it was like a giant whoosh had come along and sprinkled victory dust along the members of Gang Green. Pennington threw for four touchdowns, two to Chrebet. Curtis Martin and LaMont Jordan each ran for a score. The defense played a near-perfect game, holding Brett Favre in check, other than one moment at the end of the first half in which a laser-like pass went for a touchdown.
3- At some point in the first quarter, I heaved, and gakked the chicken parm and Gatorade into a toilet bowl (sorry to gross you out, but I try to do so tastefully, and as part of the story). It was pretty awful. I've had two bad cases of food poisoning, one about seven or eight years ago, after eating some appetizers that had been sitting out on a tray at work for several hours, and this instance, which coincided with a case of pigskin hysteria. I watched most of this game between coughs, sniffles and gags, though I do recall making a trip to Wendy's for a baked potato (kids, don't try this at home). I did my best to disguise my woes. In fact, I don't think my parents ever became aware of it (until reading this entry).
The good news was that my suffering was not long-term and that since, I haven't had any such recurrences (I have limited my chicken parm and Gatorade intake). By Monday, I was fine and dandy, as were the Jets, who had a home playoff date with the Colts and the AFC East division title.
True Metchuck's know...Jerry Seinfeld's vomit streak is referenced in two episodes of his tv show- "The Masseuse" and "The Dinner Party." Seinfeld had one streak of eight years and another of more than 13. He notes that he threw up on June 29, 1972 and June 29, 1980 (exactly eight years apart, both on dates of Mets losses), and then after eating a stale black and white cookie in "The Dinner Party" (air date February 3, 1994) his streak comes to an inglorious end
Friday, December 30, 2005
Thursday, December 29, 2005
The Hanging Chads
So if we were having a vote as to which New York sports team has tortured its fans more over the years, could our butterfly ballot contain the pictures of Chad Bradford, representing the Mets, and Chad Pennington, representing the Jets?
Bradford brings his funky, submarine style delivery to Shea Stadium this season and it's entirely possible that with the significant damage to his rotator cuff from the last two seasons that Pennington's best shot at throwing a football again might be to use that same motion.
Anyway, the Bradford/Pennington references allow me to segue, ever so slightly to a football story, since it is the last week of the NFL's regular season, one that has been a total waste right from the start if you're a follower of the J-E-T-S.
Let me say that of the four majors, football fluctuates between my third and fourth favorite sport, which probably has more to do with my distaste for violence over anything else. I never get pumped up for Monday Night Football, unless the Jets are playing and the game has significance to the playoff chase. I watch the game, understand it, and have covered it, but I'm not anywhere near as obsessed as the majority of the populace.
That said, I have a history with the Jets. I remember A.J. Duhe returning two Richard Todd interceptions for touchdowns in an AFC title game, a year after a near miracle playoff rally against the Bills was snuffed out by an end zone interception. I still see them gagging away a 10-point lead to the Cleveland Browns in another playoff debacle, as I stewed at a baseball card show in upstate New York, and hear the words I mumbled while sporting a 10-point cushion against the Broncos in the AFC title game ("Boy, it's really gonna suck if they blow this..."). I recall John Hall kicking the ball sideways to cost them a key late-season game against the Lions, a week before I drove with a friend to Baltimore to see them fall to the Ravens. And I can picture the thrill of glorious victory against San Diego and the agony of disastrous defeat in Pittsburgh from last season all too well. I won't even mention the fake-spike game because there's only so much you can take of this stuff.
But this blog isn't for the purpose of reliving the bad times, rather it's for the purpose of recalling the good ones. And since that's so, let me indulge you over Thursday and Friday with a couple of walk-off tales from Jets yesteryear.
I wish to harken back to 1991, a bizarre season in which most of the details escape me, save for a crazy clash with the Bears on Monday Night Football, a loss that left the Jets sputtering at 1-3, followed by an unlikely hot streak in which the team won six of eight. Just when things looked good, they went bad. The Jets not only lost three straight games to slip to 7-8, but lost their kicker, rock-solid Pat Leahy, to injury. Yet after all the topsy-turviness, they still would up in a one-game showdown with the 8-7 Dolphins on the final Sunday, after which the winner would claim a wild-card spot and the loser would be done for the season.
This one's more fun if you skip the first 59 minutes or so of action and zip ahead to the end of regulation (something I've often wished of NFL games). The Jets led 17-13, but Dan Marino drove the Dolphins from their own 30-yard line to within a yard of the end zone. I don't remember who broadcast the game with Dick Enberg, but I'm pretty sure they insisted the Dolphins would run the ball on fourth down. Jets defensive coordinator Pete Carroll (ha!) thought so, which explains why Ferrell Edmunds was wide open in the end zone, the recipient of Dan Marino's go-ahead throw with 44 seconds left.
In radioland, play-by-play man Marty Glickman was telling his listeners that the Jets season was doomed, and based on the Jets reputation, that was a perfectly reasonable comment.
Quarterback Ken O'Brien had 38 seconds to get the Jets into field goal range, starting from his own 30-yard line. O'Brien, best described as the Jets equivalent to Steve Trachsel (slow and average), did something he usually didn't do. He put some zip on the ball and hit Rob Moore on the first play for a 23-yard gain. One more completion and a Freeman McNeil run later, Raul Allegre trotted onto the field for a 44-yard field goal attempt. I remember my friend Dan Gordon and I teasing a Dolphins fan named Manny (not Malhotra or Aybar) in my high school journalism class with some phantom play-by-play calls, including one of Allegre coming through with the big kick and sure enough, fantasy became reality, as Allegre drilled one right down the middle, tying the game as time ran out in regulation.
In overtime, Marino morphed into the Ken O'Brien we knew and loved, and Miami's first and only drive got snuffed out after he went 1-for-4 throwing the ball. On New York's drive, O'Brien completed only one pass in OT, but it was a biggie, a 29-yard toss to Moore. The Jets had their Shawon Dunston in running back Johnny Hector, who had a couple of big runs prior to that throw (actually, a better comp for Hector, who rushed for 132 yards that day in place of Blair Thomas, might be Lenny Harris). Eventually the Jets got the football in position for a 30-yard kick from Allegre and he came through with a split-the-uprights, walk-off boot that probably would have been good from 45 (thankfully not necessary). I don't know what Glickman had to say after this one, but I did hear the Dolphins radio call of the game-winning kick and the best way to describe it would be "funeralesque."
I know that people are going to scoff at this, but since I slept through the end of the 51-45 Jets win over Miami in 1986 and through the end of their bizarre comeback against the Dolphins a few seasons ago, this game would rank as one of my all-time favorite Jet memories. In the Court of this blogger's opinion, it reigns Supreme.
True MetJets know...The hour is late so I don't have the time to fully investigate the last time the Mets and Jets had walk-off wins on the same date (anyone who wants to check before I do can post the answer in the comments section). So, for now I'll leave you in the Wayne-ing moments for the career of Jets receiver Wayne Chrebet by mentioning that the only Mets "Wayne" to hit a walk-off home run is Wayne Garrett, who had two.
another football-related post will run on Friday
Bradford brings his funky, submarine style delivery to Shea Stadium this season and it's entirely possible that with the significant damage to his rotator cuff from the last two seasons that Pennington's best shot at throwing a football again might be to use that same motion.
Anyway, the Bradford/Pennington references allow me to segue, ever so slightly to a football story, since it is the last week of the NFL's regular season, one that has been a total waste right from the start if you're a follower of the J-E-T-S.
Let me say that of the four majors, football fluctuates between my third and fourth favorite sport, which probably has more to do with my distaste for violence over anything else. I never get pumped up for Monday Night Football, unless the Jets are playing and the game has significance to the playoff chase. I watch the game, understand it, and have covered it, but I'm not anywhere near as obsessed as the majority of the populace.
That said, I have a history with the Jets. I remember A.J. Duhe returning two Richard Todd interceptions for touchdowns in an AFC title game, a year after a near miracle playoff rally against the Bills was snuffed out by an end zone interception. I still see them gagging away a 10-point lead to the Cleveland Browns in another playoff debacle, as I stewed at a baseball card show in upstate New York, and hear the words I mumbled while sporting a 10-point cushion against the Broncos in the AFC title game ("Boy, it's really gonna suck if they blow this..."). I recall John Hall kicking the ball sideways to cost them a key late-season game against the Lions, a week before I drove with a friend to Baltimore to see them fall to the Ravens. And I can picture the thrill of glorious victory against San Diego and the agony of disastrous defeat in Pittsburgh from last season all too well. I won't even mention the fake-spike game because there's only so much you can take of this stuff.
But this blog isn't for the purpose of reliving the bad times, rather it's for the purpose of recalling the good ones. And since that's so, let me indulge you over Thursday and Friday with a couple of walk-off tales from Jets yesteryear.
I wish to harken back to 1991, a bizarre season in which most of the details escape me, save for a crazy clash with the Bears on Monday Night Football, a loss that left the Jets sputtering at 1-3, followed by an unlikely hot streak in which the team won six of eight. Just when things looked good, they went bad. The Jets not only lost three straight games to slip to 7-8, but lost their kicker, rock-solid Pat Leahy, to injury. Yet after all the topsy-turviness, they still would up in a one-game showdown with the 8-7 Dolphins on the final Sunday, after which the winner would claim a wild-card spot and the loser would be done for the season.
This one's more fun if you skip the first 59 minutes or so of action and zip ahead to the end of regulation (something I've often wished of NFL games). The Jets led 17-13, but Dan Marino drove the Dolphins from their own 30-yard line to within a yard of the end zone. I don't remember who broadcast the game with Dick Enberg, but I'm pretty sure they insisted the Dolphins would run the ball on fourth down. Jets defensive coordinator Pete Carroll (ha!) thought so, which explains why Ferrell Edmunds was wide open in the end zone, the recipient of Dan Marino's go-ahead throw with 44 seconds left.
In radioland, play-by-play man Marty Glickman was telling his listeners that the Jets season was doomed, and based on the Jets reputation, that was a perfectly reasonable comment.
Quarterback Ken O'Brien had 38 seconds to get the Jets into field goal range, starting from his own 30-yard line. O'Brien, best described as the Jets equivalent to Steve Trachsel (slow and average), did something he usually didn't do. He put some zip on the ball and hit Rob Moore on the first play for a 23-yard gain. One more completion and a Freeman McNeil run later, Raul Allegre trotted onto the field for a 44-yard field goal attempt. I remember my friend Dan Gordon and I teasing a Dolphins fan named Manny (not Malhotra or Aybar) in my high school journalism class with some phantom play-by-play calls, including one of Allegre coming through with the big kick and sure enough, fantasy became reality, as Allegre drilled one right down the middle, tying the game as time ran out in regulation.
In overtime, Marino morphed into the Ken O'Brien we knew and loved, and Miami's first and only drive got snuffed out after he went 1-for-4 throwing the ball. On New York's drive, O'Brien completed only one pass in OT, but it was a biggie, a 29-yard toss to Moore. The Jets had their Shawon Dunston in running back Johnny Hector, who had a couple of big runs prior to that throw (actually, a better comp for Hector, who rushed for 132 yards that day in place of Blair Thomas, might be Lenny Harris). Eventually the Jets got the football in position for a 30-yard kick from Allegre and he came through with a split-the-uprights, walk-off boot that probably would have been good from 45 (thankfully not necessary). I don't know what Glickman had to say after this one, but I did hear the Dolphins radio call of the game-winning kick and the best way to describe it would be "funeralesque."
I know that people are going to scoff at this, but since I slept through the end of the 51-45 Jets win over Miami in 1986 and through the end of their bizarre comeback against the Dolphins a few seasons ago, this game would rank as one of my all-time favorite Jet memories. In the Court of this blogger's opinion, it reigns Supreme.
True MetJets know...The hour is late so I don't have the time to fully investigate the last time the Mets and Jets had walk-off wins on the same date (anyone who wants to check before I do can post the answer in the comments section). So, for now I'll leave you in the Wayne-ing moments for the career of Jets receiver Wayne Chrebet by mentioning that the only Mets "Wayne" to hit a walk-off home run is Wayne Garrett, who had two.
another football-related post will run on Friday
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
On 'Gardo
I'm a little late to the gate on this one, since Edgardo Alfonzo got traded from the Giants to the Angels last week, but I was in the middle of my holiday week tribute, which I didn't want to disturb.
I don't think Alfonzo would mind.
It didn't seem like much bothered Alfonzo during his eight-year tenure with the Mets. The guy was pretty much unflappable, regardless of the situation and it's a shame that Giants fans didn't get to see him during the prime of his career. Alfonzo wasn't a superstar but he developed into a terrific player One of these days, I'm going to make a list of the most clutch Mets of all-time (I have a date in the future in mind) and the only players guaranteed spots, in my mind, are Keith Hernandez, John Olerud, and Alfonzo. It didn't matter if he played second or third, hit second, third or wherever, Alfonzo was clutch at the plate, on the bases, and in the field.
Finding examples of the latter two are difficult, so you'll just have to take my word on that, but I can tell you plenty of examples of his "plate clutchness." For now, you'll have to settle for one, and I'm actually going to avoid referencing a walk-off.
On April 9, 1998, an episode of Friends aired titled "The One With All The Haste" aired on NBC. One of the plots had Chandler and Joey betting their new apartment to try to win Knicks tickets from Monica and Rachel. The gang drew cards, with the high card winning and in the climactic moment, Rachel picked a Queen from the deck, leaving very little possibility for the men to win.
Joey gets ready to pick and does so with a little showmanship. "Uh-huh, not as high as..."Joey says, at which point there's an ever-so-slight dramatic pause as he picks a card...
"It worked!!! King!"
(at which point the men celebrate and the women commiserate)
I bring this up because four months and 20 days later, I had my own little such episode "when the Mets were in Los Angeles to play the Dodgers. I was at the Trenton Times that day, with an assignment whose subject escapes me. I don't remember why (maybe it had something to do with FOX), but for some reason at around 7pm, I wound up sitting by the one computer with internet access and logged on to AOL.
The Mets didn't exactly start a Murderers Row lineup that day. The 5-6-7 slots were occupied by Brian McRae, Jermaine Allensworth and Luis Lopez, so it makes sense that Al Leiter only got two runs of support, while allowing three, through the first eight innings. The Mets were down 3-2 going to the top of the ninth inning.
Nowadays, there are a million scoretrackers on sites like Yahoo, CBS Sportsline, ESPN.com and MLB.com, but back in 1998, the only reliable one for me was on AOL Sports. So I sat and stared at the small rectangular box that relayed the count, pitch-by-pitch.
The first two Mets, pinch-hitters Lenny Harris and Matt Franco, made outs against closer Jeff Shaw, putting the Dodgers within an out of a win. Tony Phillips, who didn't do much of a positive nature during his Mets career, worked a walk on a 3-1 pitch, bringing Alfonzo to the plate.
I had a longstanding argument with one of this blog's occasional contributors, Times copy editor Barry Federovitch, as to who was a better player: Edgardo Alfonzo or Jeff Kent. For me, there was no question that it was Alfonzo, even as Kent put up gargantuan numbers in San Francisco, the argument came down to this. In a situation such as the one taking place now, there was no hitter I'd rather have at the plate.
So I'm sitting at this computer, and I'm in full beg-and-plead mode with a piece of machinery over something I couldn't see or hear, taking place 3,000 miles away. "Cmon....hit a home run...hit a home run...hit a home run."
Alfonzo battled through a lot of the 4,562 plate appearances (postseason included) that made up his Mets career and this one would serve as the example for his ability to do so. Shaw and Alfonzo battled to a 2-2 count and the Mets third baseman managed to foul off the next two offerings.
When you're sitting and watching a baseball game via computer update (sans audio/video), there is nothing like the anguish of the lengthy at-bat. You stop everything you're doing. If you have to go to the bathroom, you hold it in. If the screen stays the same for too long, you jiggle the mouse to make sure you didn't have a dreaded freeze-up. You start to mutter to yourself. Sometimes you say things like "There's no way we can win this game" (I borrow that from a colleague of mine, fellow Mets fan Gordon Mann, who recorded a brilliant commercial on this subject, using basketball as his example). Sometimes you say things like
"C'mon...hit a home run...hit a home run...hit a home run."
Shaw, as it turned out, was overworked at this time of year, a season in which he registered a career-best 48 saves. He would get some rest after this contest and it would pay off, because the next 10 times he entered a game, he closed it out. Had I been on another score-tracker, I might have known that Edgardo Alfonzo entered the at-bat with four hits in seven times up against Shaw and that the odds were in our favor. On this occurrence, Shaw tried to finish Alfonzo with a fastball. Alfonzo was still young then (allegedly 25). He could get around on such a pitch. On this one, he got all the way around and crushed it to left-center field.
The AOL update changed suddenly. The words "HOME RUN" appeared on the screen, in the results section.
Well, in the words of Joey Tribiani. "It worked!!!"
Alfonzo was the King in this case and the Mets had certainly just drawn a high card. Sometimes it's true, when there's a will, there's a way.
The funny thing, if I recall correctly, is that in my moment of jubilance, I wandered back over to the sports department. Someone flipped the TV on, and sure enough, there was the Mets-Dodgers game, live and in color. "The One With All The Haste" apparently also applied to my decision to race to the computer, but that was alright. John Franco sweated out the ninth, allowing a hit and a walk, but escaped, and the Mets had a 4-3 win, and after the Cubs lost later that night, the lead in the wild-card race.
My cousins, Michael and Matthew, gave me an Edgardo Alfonzo card as part of their families holiday gift. On the back of this 2002 Opening Day card, there's a quote from longtime major league coach Rich Donnelly, who calls Alfonzo "probably the most respected player in the game. He...honors baseball through the way he plays." So I guess to call him a 'Baseball Angel' is appropriate now in more ways than one.
True Metfonzos know...Edgardo Alfonzo had three walk-off hits and a walk-off sacrifice fly while with the New York Mets.
I don't think Alfonzo would mind.
It didn't seem like much bothered Alfonzo during his eight-year tenure with the Mets. The guy was pretty much unflappable, regardless of the situation and it's a shame that Giants fans didn't get to see him during the prime of his career. Alfonzo wasn't a superstar but he developed into a terrific player One of these days, I'm going to make a list of the most clutch Mets of all-time (I have a date in the future in mind) and the only players guaranteed spots, in my mind, are Keith Hernandez, John Olerud, and Alfonzo. It didn't matter if he played second or third, hit second, third or wherever, Alfonzo was clutch at the plate, on the bases, and in the field.
Finding examples of the latter two are difficult, so you'll just have to take my word on that, but I can tell you plenty of examples of his "plate clutchness." For now, you'll have to settle for one, and I'm actually going to avoid referencing a walk-off.
On April 9, 1998, an episode of Friends aired titled "The One With All The Haste" aired on NBC. One of the plots had Chandler and Joey betting their new apartment to try to win Knicks tickets from Monica and Rachel. The gang drew cards, with the high card winning and in the climactic moment, Rachel picked a Queen from the deck, leaving very little possibility for the men to win.
Joey gets ready to pick and does so with a little showmanship. "Uh-huh, not as high as..."Joey says, at which point there's an ever-so-slight dramatic pause as he picks a card...
"It worked!!! King!"
(at which point the men celebrate and the women commiserate)
I bring this up because four months and 20 days later, I had my own little such episode "when the Mets were in Los Angeles to play the Dodgers. I was at the Trenton Times that day, with an assignment whose subject escapes me. I don't remember why (maybe it had something to do with FOX), but for some reason at around 7pm, I wound up sitting by the one computer with internet access and logged on to AOL.
The Mets didn't exactly start a Murderers Row lineup that day. The 5-6-7 slots were occupied by Brian McRae, Jermaine Allensworth and Luis Lopez, so it makes sense that Al Leiter only got two runs of support, while allowing three, through the first eight innings. The Mets were down 3-2 going to the top of the ninth inning.
Nowadays, there are a million scoretrackers on sites like Yahoo, CBS Sportsline, ESPN.com and MLB.com, but back in 1998, the only reliable one for me was on AOL Sports. So I sat and stared at the small rectangular box that relayed the count, pitch-by-pitch.
The first two Mets, pinch-hitters Lenny Harris and Matt Franco, made outs against closer Jeff Shaw, putting the Dodgers within an out of a win. Tony Phillips, who didn't do much of a positive nature during his Mets career, worked a walk on a 3-1 pitch, bringing Alfonzo to the plate.
I had a longstanding argument with one of this blog's occasional contributors, Times copy editor Barry Federovitch, as to who was a better player: Edgardo Alfonzo or Jeff Kent. For me, there was no question that it was Alfonzo, even as Kent put up gargantuan numbers in San Francisco, the argument came down to this. In a situation such as the one taking place now, there was no hitter I'd rather have at the plate.
So I'm sitting at this computer, and I'm in full beg-and-plead mode with a piece of machinery over something I couldn't see or hear, taking place 3,000 miles away. "Cmon....hit a home run...hit a home run...hit a home run."
Alfonzo battled through a lot of the 4,562 plate appearances (postseason included) that made up his Mets career and this one would serve as the example for his ability to do so. Shaw and Alfonzo battled to a 2-2 count and the Mets third baseman managed to foul off the next two offerings.
When you're sitting and watching a baseball game via computer update (sans audio/video), there is nothing like the anguish of the lengthy at-bat. You stop everything you're doing. If you have to go to the bathroom, you hold it in. If the screen stays the same for too long, you jiggle the mouse to make sure you didn't have a dreaded freeze-up. You start to mutter to yourself. Sometimes you say things like "There's no way we can win this game" (I borrow that from a colleague of mine, fellow Mets fan Gordon Mann, who recorded a brilliant commercial on this subject, using basketball as his example). Sometimes you say things like
"C'mon...hit a home run...hit a home run...hit a home run."
Shaw, as it turned out, was overworked at this time of year, a season in which he registered a career-best 48 saves. He would get some rest after this contest and it would pay off, because the next 10 times he entered a game, he closed it out. Had I been on another score-tracker, I might have known that Edgardo Alfonzo entered the at-bat with four hits in seven times up against Shaw and that the odds were in our favor. On this occurrence, Shaw tried to finish Alfonzo with a fastball. Alfonzo was still young then (allegedly 25). He could get around on such a pitch. On this one, he got all the way around and crushed it to left-center field.
The AOL update changed suddenly. The words "HOME RUN" appeared on the screen, in the results section.
Well, in the words of Joey Tribiani. "It worked!!!"
Alfonzo was the King in this case and the Mets had certainly just drawn a high card. Sometimes it's true, when there's a will, there's a way.
The funny thing, if I recall correctly, is that in my moment of jubilance, I wandered back over to the sports department. Someone flipped the TV on, and sure enough, there was the Mets-Dodgers game, live and in color. "The One With All The Haste" apparently also applied to my decision to race to the computer, but that was alright. John Franco sweated out the ninth, allowing a hit and a walk, but escaped, and the Mets had a 4-3 win, and after the Cubs lost later that night, the lead in the wild-card race.
My cousins, Michael and Matthew, gave me an Edgardo Alfonzo card as part of their families holiday gift. On the back of this 2002 Opening Day card, there's a quote from longtime major league coach Rich Donnelly, who calls Alfonzo "probably the most respected player in the game. He...honors baseball through the way he plays." So I guess to call him a 'Baseball Angel' is appropriate now in more ways than one.
True Metfonzos know...Edgardo Alfonzo had three walk-off hits and a walk-off sacrifice fly while with the New York Mets.
Monday, December 26, 2005
On the Mendy
OK, so apparently the stategy that Mr. Minaya has taken to load up his bench this season is to sign guys who have crushed the Mets in the past. In other words, if you can't beat em, sign em.
First there was the purchase of Tike Redman, and now they've signed Endy Chavez to what basically amounts to a tryout battle for the fifth outfield slot (loser leads off for Norfolk).
Chavez has a .259 batting average over a 436-game major-league career, which is basically unimpressive. What he does best is slap-hit and that's a skill that didn't work for him much in 2005, as in stints with the Phillies and Nationals he barely hit above .200.
Based on the way he's performed against the Flushing 9, fans may think they just picked up Eric Chavez. He's the type of guy that would be an ideal fit for the Braves come September, so it's probably a good thing that he is where he is now. He's a .326 career hitter against the Mets, with a .519 slugging percentage over 129 at-bats. The guy even hits well at Shea Stadium- .373 in a small sample of 73 plate appearances.
Chavez is hopeful that his third stint in the Mets organization is a charm, having previously been claimed by others in both the Rule V draft and off waivers. In 2001, the Royals stored him in Omaha for two months before recalling him for his initial turn in the majors. It took a few weeks for pitchers to figure out that Chavez chased most everything, but when they did, he hit a major slump. Over a five-games and a little more span he went 0-for-17, but was in the starting lineup on June 27, against the Tigers.
I feel like this is an appopriate game to write about because it had a frightening number of Metropolitan connections. Paul Byrd started for Kansas City and pitched well, allowing two runs over six innings and change. Roberto Hernandez tried to close out a 3-2 Royals lead but couldn't, first allowing a game-tying homer to ex-Met Shane Halter, then a go-ahead hit by Damion Easley (we'll even throw in that Roger Cedeno was thrown out at home by shortstop Rey Sanchez while trying to score on an infield grounder).
In the last of the ninth, three former or current Methands played a role in Kansas City's game-winning rally. Carlos Beltran capped a 4-for-4 day with a leadoff single against Tigers closer Todd Jones, stole second, and scored on Brent Mayne's RBI single. Mayne advanced to second when Beltran drew a throw home, but then was thrown out at third when Luis Alicea tried to advance him.
It was just as well. Alicea, who reached, stole second. The batter was Endy Chavez, who was 0-for-4, and whose slump, was now at 0-for-21. Jones ran the count full and Chavez finally connected, lining a game-winning single to left-center field. The Royals had a pain-in-the-butt win, but a win nonetheless. In this case, the Endy justified the means and the Mets hope that this signing will as well.
True Metvez's know...Endy Chavez has a .286 career batting average in Chavez Ravine (aka Dodger Stadium)
First there was the purchase of Tike Redman, and now they've signed Endy Chavez to what basically amounts to a tryout battle for the fifth outfield slot (loser leads off for Norfolk).
Chavez has a .259 batting average over a 436-game major-league career, which is basically unimpressive. What he does best is slap-hit and that's a skill that didn't work for him much in 2005, as in stints with the Phillies and Nationals he barely hit above .200.
Based on the way he's performed against the Flushing 9, fans may think they just picked up Eric Chavez. He's the type of guy that would be an ideal fit for the Braves come September, so it's probably a good thing that he is where he is now. He's a .326 career hitter against the Mets, with a .519 slugging percentage over 129 at-bats. The guy even hits well at Shea Stadium- .373 in a small sample of 73 plate appearances.
Chavez is hopeful that his third stint in the Mets organization is a charm, having previously been claimed by others in both the Rule V draft and off waivers. In 2001, the Royals stored him in Omaha for two months before recalling him for his initial turn in the majors. It took a few weeks for pitchers to figure out that Chavez chased most everything, but when they did, he hit a major slump. Over a five-games and a little more span he went 0-for-17, but was in the starting lineup on June 27, against the Tigers.
I feel like this is an appopriate game to write about because it had a frightening number of Metropolitan connections. Paul Byrd started for Kansas City and pitched well, allowing two runs over six innings and change. Roberto Hernandez tried to close out a 3-2 Royals lead but couldn't, first allowing a game-tying homer to ex-Met Shane Halter, then a go-ahead hit by Damion Easley (we'll even throw in that Roger Cedeno was thrown out at home by shortstop Rey Sanchez while trying to score on an infield grounder).
In the last of the ninth, three former or current Methands played a role in Kansas City's game-winning rally. Carlos Beltran capped a 4-for-4 day with a leadoff single against Tigers closer Todd Jones, stole second, and scored on Brent Mayne's RBI single. Mayne advanced to second when Beltran drew a throw home, but then was thrown out at third when Luis Alicea tried to advance him.
It was just as well. Alicea, who reached, stole second. The batter was Endy Chavez, who was 0-for-4, and whose slump, was now at 0-for-21. Jones ran the count full and Chavez finally connected, lining a game-winning single to left-center field. The Royals had a pain-in-the-butt win, but a win nonetheless. In this case, the Endy justified the means and the Mets hope that this signing will as well.
True Metvez's know...Endy Chavez has a .286 career batting average in Chavez Ravine (aka Dodger Stadium)
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