This man--curly hair and Williamsburg beard included--just floated a gem against the Yankees. He's studied narratives, he knows all about literary theory and reader response, and his knuckler just scored one for the Mets in the subway series. Let's deviate from the R.A. Dickey-an prose and study some statistics:
Mets in May: 11-6
Yanks in May: 8-11
Now the narrative:
The Yankees are a dinosaur stuck in the mud. When Bartolo Colon and Freddy Garcia are praised for strong performances, the team is that much closer to complete implosion. How long can Colon's steady dose of mediocre fastballs hold off the warming bats of spring? How many times can Freddy hurl the kitchen sink across home plate before his (overweight) body betrays him? Freddy gave the Yanks seven strong on the bump tonight, but it went to waste--a loss that will be even more poignant when the Yankees are digging for quality innings in late July or August.
On the other side of town, the Mets are enjoying a momentum swing. They were supposed to be the town's toiling waste of dollars. The scariest part of their win tonight (for division rivals, at least) is that they pulled out the victory without major contributions from their dependable parts. Reyes came up empty at the plate, and Beltran allowed a catch-able ball sail over the fence for a home run. R.A. Dickey, Justin Turner, and Daniel Murphy were the biggest heroes of tonight's win. Do I smell some depth on that roster?
Perhaps the Yankees will trade for some arms and run away with the division. Perhaps the Mets will fall back to Earth and trade the ship. But there is another story building. The Mets are playing like a team that does not want to be dissolved. Fate might prove that the Yankees are the car that needs more than a few alterations to keep running. This is the face of 2011 in the Bronx--and it isn't pretty:
Forget what happens tomorrow and Sunday. R.A. Dickey knows a good story when he sees one, and a good story brings October baseball to Queens. (If there is an October...)
The End of the World
Consider our trumpet blown. Or whatever. Here are three reasons why the world will end on Saturday:
1) The Red Sox and Cubs are engaging in a massive Boston orgy. Two franchises maligned since the beginning of time are together on the day of reckoning. Hide your Billy Goats and Buckners--Fenway Park might be the epicenter of Saturday's rapture.
2) Michigan was playing on ESPN tonight and my father didn't watch. It was softball, can you blame him? Either way--this is a sure sign that the universe is behaving strangely.
3) Republicans are criticizing a Democratic POTUS for abusing executive powers! That's right I went there...
If you're feeling lucky, dump all of your money on a horse tomorrow. Best case scenario: you win. Worst case: the world ends and you don't owe your local bookmaker anything but a noogie in hell.
Put it on the board, Hawk.
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