"You're a heartbreaker, neck-wringer/Lawdy mama don't you mess around with me--Pat Benetar
(Or something like that. I never did catch all of Pat's lyrics.)
Pennent fever had a grip on Shea earlier this week. The place was going crazy Wednesday night. On the heels of Tuesday's big comeback there was Pedro ready to go. For the first time all year, the Mets could taste the playoffs. A win on Wednesday would have put them first in the wild card standings. Another win today would have put them up by a game and a half. The fever spread into the broadcast booth, too. When Carlos Beltran tried to bunt early in the game, Keith Hernandez moaned, "No, you don't bunt now!" but his voice was that of a disappointed fan, not an impartial commentator. When Cliff Floyd sent a routine line drive into right field you could practically hear Fran Healey leap out of his seat as he yelled ("Floyd smashes that one into right!). Like every one watching the game, these guys were pulling for the Mets, hoping this was the series in which they turned the corner and blazed down the home stretch, enjoying that long winning streak that had elluded the team all year.
But then the Phillies opened the keg of whoop ass. My god, did they ever. 8-2? Against Pedro? And say what you will about the talent of the Phillies' Chase Utley, it stings worse when you get your ass kicked by a guy named Chase. Much, much worse. And now they've dropped two out of three and they're heading out on the road again.