The Mets can't get any relief

New York 4, San Diego 0, bottom of the sixth, 6:39 p.m. EDT or so, and you've got the radio blastin' since CU won't give you Sportschannel on cable and you're too cheap to buy a black box. You're so unconcerned about losing this lead that you're surfing the Internet in search of a Brass Bonanza .wav file (RIP, Hartford Whalers). Peter Thomas Harnisch, the Fordham Flash, the Commack Comet, on the mound, has shut down the Padres on two hits through five innings, facing one over the minimum. Rolling. ROLLING. Maybe these Mets are a new bunch, not like the crew that barely won 70 games last year, not like the crew in 1993 that finished last in the league. Maybe they're --

Oh -- listen to that. Chris Gomez hits a home run. 4-1. Oh well, no shutout today.

Oh, wait. Rickey Henderson, pinch-hit homer. 4-2. Okay, no big deal, Petey'll just settle down now, we'll be fine. Heck, Quilvio Veras is up...

Quilvio Veras just hit a WHAT to right?

Back-to-back-to...

Okay, so Bob Apodaca, Gary Cohen now tells you on the FAN, trots out to the mound to get Harnisch, who's still got a lead, and the Mets turn the game over to their newly rebuilt, newly trusty bullpen, the one that was designed to make you forget 1996 and all the blown leads and such. Beginning with the newest of the newcomers, Yorkis Perez, just into town after the Mets claim him off waivers. Yes, it's up to you, new Yorkis.

A'course, just because he's Pascual's brother should have clued you in to what was coming.

6:45 p.m. Tony Gwynn, single. Steve Finley strikes out, but then it really begins. Gwynn steals second. Ken Caminiti singles, Tony scores. Tie game. And Bob Apodaca makes another call to the 'pen.

This time, for Doug Henry.

Or did it just seem like Doug Henry? No, wait, it couldn't have been Doug Henry, our favorite Met reliever whipping boy from 1996.

Henry just gave up hits, got ripped all over the ballpark. This guy -- Toby Borland? -- couldn't find the damn plate if you gave him directions.

6:57 p.m. Greg Vaughn walks. Wally Joyner advances the runners. Flaherty walks. Borland has bounced most of his pitches up to the plate. Gomez, back so soon, steps up and takes four balls. So Caminiti scores, and the Padres lead.

For this, we got rid of Rico Brogna?

So Bob Apodaca trots on back out and takes the ball away from Toby, who's thrown it or one like it 21 times and missed the plate 15 times.

Feeling the descent into madness yet? Okay, Bob, who's our next contestant?

Paul Byrd? No, that's Barry (bought from Les Expos) Manuel. It just might as well have been Paul Byrd, because it only felt like 1996 all over again. 7:08 p.m., and you're worried about this inning running into the Ranger game scheduled for 8:00. Henderson -- who's not a pinch hitter anymore, but doesn't have a position either, so we'll call him a "limbo" in honor of his batting stance -- comes up and summarily gets plunked. Vaughn scores.

7:11 p.m. Veras doesn't bother to homer again, just walk. Flaherty scores.

You thank your lucky stars that Greg McMichael, who's the best of the supposedly revamped Mets, isn't getting in. Why wreck what shreds of confidence he has?

7:15 p.m. Gwynn singles, two runs score, and suddenly you're praying the Orange 'n' Blue will come to their senses and revamp the 'pen again next week. Matt Rothfleisch is available. Chris Cross.Howie Pivar. Sure, they're used to a lower level, but they've shown more than Toby Borland. Considering most of their pitches make it to the plate on the fly, they probably have better stuff than him, too.

7:18 p.m. Finley doubles, two more runs score. 11-4. By the time it's over, it's twenty after seven and you're ready to chalk this one up to a massive April Fools conspiracy, furnished by Major League Baseball.

But no. It's Opening Day. Rebirth, new hope. 12-5 Padre win. New names, same old Mets.

This column appeared in my real alma mater, the Columbia Daily Spectator, April 4, 1997, page 8.

I liked this column immediately, even while I coming up with the idea during that hellish inning -- I started checking times near the end, extrapolating back later on for the early stuff. It was fun because it was a column unlike what I usually did -- this was far more cynical. It got me in "trouble" with a couple of people that day at a Columbia baseball game -- "Why can't you guys write positive stuff?" asked one. I replied politely that this was about the first really hardcore negative thing I'd written in four years, if he wanted to go back. And if he thought the Mets bullpen as constituted was any good, he and I would have to disagree disrespectfully. By the end of April, incidentally, none of Messrs. Perez, Borland and Manuel would be Mets, the bullpen would be significantly better and the Mets would make a token appearance in the playoff race for the first time in years and years. Thankfully, the new, new Mets were not the same old Mets.