The Grumpy Monkey

The Monkey’s End

2010-12-18T07:52:00.002-05:00

After 4 years, and almost as many posts, I’ve decided to bring The Grumpy Monkey to an end. I’m not really sure why, but I’m just not happy with it, and I can never re-invent it in a way which suits me. That’s much of why I rarely post. So, I’m shutting this down and starting up a new blog in a little while. I believe I will title it “Running Through the Halls”. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read my little blurbs, and hopefully you will join me on my next journey.

WTF? Video

2010-09-10T11:53:00.004-04:00

,Every so often I come across a video that is so absurd that all I can say is, WTF?

This one comes out of Stark County, Ohio, where Republican Treasury candidate Phil Davison appears to either have channeled his inner Robert De Niro, or completely lost his mind. he goes on an almost six minute rant about how the Stark County government is a mess and requires drastic actions. I think the best parts are every time he forgets what he’s saying and has to run back to the podium. Eventually, he guarantees that, if nominated, he will win this election. Surprisingly enough, he wasn’t nominated…

Jalopy of a Team

2010-07-17T15:24:00.009-04:00

My friend Jeff sent me an email today asking me if I could name the last time the Mets had won a "there's no way we're going to lose this" game, after the Yankees had done that very thing last night. He came up with two:

October 3, 1999: The Mets win a walk off against the Pirates to send them to a one-game playoff with Cincinnati.
September 21, 2001: The first sporting event in New York after 9/11.

The problem is, he is absolutely right. Since Game 7 of the 1986 World Series, these are the only two times the Mets were in a "there's no way were losing this" game, and actually won. He then listed a bunch of recent such games in which the Mets were humiliatingly defeated:

1998 - Last game of the year: Win and in. (Loss)
1999 - NLCS Game 6: Twice just 3 outs away from forcing Game 7, after being down 3 games to none. (Loss)
2000 - World Series Game 5: Don't let the Yankees clinch in your yard. (Loss. Jeff was actually at that game and said it was comparable to a close family member dying)
2006 - NLCS Game 7: Endy Chavez reels in a HR. (Loss, which led to this blog post by me the next day)
2007 - Last game of the year: Win and in. (Loss, after blowing a 7 game lead in 17 games)
2008 - Last game of the year AND last game at Shea Stadium: Win forces a one-game playoff. (Loss)
2009 - First game at CitiField (Loss. The first pitch at CitiField was also lost, by Jody Gerut in the the stands for a homerun)

After ruminating over this for a while, the following was my response:

Being a Mets fan is iike being suckered by a used car salesman. When we were kids we thought we were getting a decent team (a World Series and and NLCS in a 3 year span) for a reasonable price (not losing our souls). But then, just after we pulled out of the lot, the transmission fell out. But rather than return it, we kept driving home, hoping that someone would fix it. instead, the doors and wheels fell off, and finally between '06 and '08, the airbag inexplicably deployed and punched us in the nuts.

We're fans of a team that, in it's first 24 years of existence went to the World Series 3 times and won 2 of them (and had a legit shot at beating the A's in '73). But in the last 24 years, they have been to the World Series just once, and had no business being there. Even with an extra playoff spot, they've only hit the postseason 4 times since '86, and won the NL East outright just twice (and, coincidentally enough, were the best team in the NL both years, and failed to make the World Series...).

We're fans of a team that only once in their history have they made the postseason in consecutive years, and that was ONLY because of the Wild Card.

We're fans of a team that is the oldest to have never thrown a no-hitter (But are second in one-hitters since 1962!). And I'm sure if someone looked it up, we probably lead the majors in pitchers who've thrown no-hitters elsewhere (I can name 7 right now).

We're fans of a team that has made one superb trade in 48 years (Piazza), but made several million shitty trades. Three that stick out in my mind:

Nolan Ryan and 3 other players for Jim Fregosi?
Lenny Dykstra and Roger McDowell for Juan Samuel? (This was their big trade deadline move in '89...)
Tom Seaver for scrap metal? (Ok, not really, but it might as well have been.)

Even the Santana trade is starting to look like the Mets got hosed.

We're fans of a team that, no matter how hard they try, will always be Gerald Wilkins to the Yankees' Dominique. The Frank Stallone to the Yankees Sylvester.

And now, 25 years later, that shitty used car is still sitting in our driveways, taking up space and leaking oil all over. Sure, once in a while it starts, and we can even drive it around the block, hoping to take it on the highway one more time. But, inevitably the driver's seat falls through the rusty floor, and we have to push the car home. This Mets team had it's shot in '06, but Carlos Beltran let a World Series ring sail by him atop an Adam Wainwright curveball.

We're fans of a team that can't get out of it's own way.

But at the end of the day, one thing makes me feel better about my team.

They're not the Pirates.

Photo of the Week – Bike Lock

2010-04-05T11:50:00.001-04:00

I took this photo outside of a Wilson Farms convenience store in Buffalo after staring at it for several minutes. A kid walking by said it had been there for weeks. At least we know the bike lock works, in principle.

Biesbol!

2010-04-03T01:25:00.005-04:00

Spring is in the air. The weather is getting warmer, the girls are slowly baring more skin and, most importantly, Opening Day is a mere three days away. It’s also time for The Grumpy Monkey’s (Not So) Annual (and Probably Wrong) MLB Predictions. Before I get there, though, a couple of things:

1. In MLB 2K10, 2K Sports almost seemed to be making a statement by keeping Barry Bonds (or some made up player who resembles Bonds) out of the record book. The single season and career home run records are listed as being held by Mark McGwire and Hank Aaron. I thought this was cool until I realized they had kept former ESPN analyst Steve Phillips’ voice in the game.

2. I was watching ESPN’s 30 Teams in 30 Days the other night where they featured the Kansas City Royals. One of the top 10 Royals highlights was George Brett getting his 3,000th hit. The best part about it was, as he was standing on first base, the entire team came out to congratulate him. When do we see that kind of great baseball moment anymore?

Originally I had planned an in depth preview of this season, complete with little blurbs about each team and why I thought they’d finish where they’d finish. I got about halfway through it before I decided it was too time consuming. Since nobody actually reads this thing, there doesn’t seem to be much point. Plus, if my NCAA Tournament predictions are any indication, I have no idea what I’m talking about anyway.

So, fuck it. Here’s your preview.

NL EAST

1. Philadelphia Phillies
2. New York Mets
3. Atlanta Braves
4. Florida Marlins
5. Washington Nationals

NL CENTRAL

1. St. Louis Cardinals
2. Cincinnati Reds
3. Milwaukee Brewers
4. Chicago Cubs
5. Houston Astros
6. Pittsburgh Pirates

NL WEST

1. Colorado Rockies
2. Los Angeles Dodgers
3. Arizona Diamondbacks
4. San Francisco Giants
5. San Diego Padres

Wild Card: Los Angeles Dodgers

Division Series:
Phillies over Dodgers, Rockies over Cardinals

Championship Series: Phillies over Rockies

AL EAST

1. Tampa Bay Rays
2. New York Yankees
3. Boston Red Sox
4. Baltimore Orioles
5. Toronto Blue Jays

AL CENTRAL

1. Minnesota Twins
2. Detroit Tigers
3. Chicago White Sox
4. Kansas City Royals
5. Cleveland Indians

AL WEST

1. Los Angeles Angels (of Anaheim!)
2. Seattle Mariners
3. Texas Rangers
4. Oakland Athletics

Wild Card: New York Yankees

Division Series:
Twins over Yankees, Rays over Angels (of Anaheim!)

Championship Series: Rays over Twins

The World Series will be the Rays over the Phillies, only because I can’t bring myself to imagine the Phillies winning again. I almost threw myself off of Beaver Stadium the night it actually happened, and I can’t put that image in my head again.

Well, there. There’s your baseball predictions for 2010. Remember, all picks guaranteed to be right. Unless they’re wrong.

Play Ball!

Photo of the Week – Unfortunate Ad

2010-03-29T00:00:00.003-04:00

Q: What do you get when you put a McDonalds restaurant in the town of Yass, Australia?

A: One of the more unfortunate billboard advertisements I’ve seen. It’s also your Photo of the Week.

Photo of the Week - Altar Boy

2010-03-22T00:30:00.006-04:00

Once in a while, we here at The Grumpy Monkey come across something that we think that everyone should see. With that in mind, I’ve decided to post my favorite photo each week (or month…or six months…whatever) so that my faithful fan can enjoy and laugh and perhaps spread the word about the cool blog you saw this on and then I’ll get rich and famous and forget about all of you losers and...oops. Sorry.

Anyway, since I have nothing else to say, here it is, your first Photo of the Week:

(For a nice ambiance, The Grumpy Monkey suggests Steven Lynch’s “Priest” as background music. Enjoy!)

It’s Tourney Time!

2010-03-18T15:20:00.006-04:00

It does seem funny to post one’s NCAA Tournament picks after the tournament has started, but I felt I should wait until all the online sites were locked so that my adversaries couldn’t copy any of my picks. Curse them!

Anyway, I have done no research on this, and some of the picks were made in haste because time was growing short and I was running out of cigarettes. So, without further ado, The Grumpy Monkey’s 2010 NCAA Tournament picks (for two different sites).

ESPN Tournament Challenge

ROUND ONE

MIDWEST

1 Kansas over 16 Lehigh
9 Northern Iowa over 8 UNLV
5 Michigan State over 12 New Mexico State
4 Maryland over 13 Houston
11 San Diego State over 6 Tennessee
3 Georgetown over 14 Ohio
7 Oklahoma State over 10 Georgia Tech
2 Ohio State over 15 UC Santa Barbara

EAST

1 Kentucky over 16 East Tennessee State
8 Texas over 9 Wake Forest
12 Cornell over 5 Temple
4 Wisconsin over 13 Wofford
6 Marquette over 11 Washington
3 New Mexico over 14 Montana
10 Missouri over 7 Clemson
2 West Virginia over 15 Morgan State

WEST

1 Syracuse over 16 Vermont
9 Florida State over 8 Gonzaga
12 UTEP over 5 Butler
13 Murray State over 4 Vanderbilt
11 Minnesota over 6 Xavier
3 Pittsburgh over 14 Oakland
7 BYU over 10 Florida
2 Kansas State over 15 North Texas

SOUTH

1 Duke over 16 Arkansas-Pine Bluff
9 Louisville over 8 California
5 Texas A&M over 12 Utah State
4 Purdue over 13 Sienna
6 Notre Dame over 11 Old Dominion
3 Baylor over 14 Sam Houston State
7 Richmond over 10 St. Mary’s
2 Villanova over 15 Robert Morris

ROUND TWO

MIDWEST

1 Kansas over 9 Northern Iowa
5 Michigan State over 4 Maryland
11 San Diego State over 3 Georgetown
2 Ohio State over 7 Oklahoma State

EAST

1 Kentucky over 8 Texas
4 Wisconsin over 12 Cornell
3 New Mexico over 6 Marquette
2 West Virginia over 10 Missouri

WEST

1 Syracuse over 9 Florida State
12 UTEP over 13 Murray State
3 Pittsburgh over 11 Minnesota
7 BYU over 2 Kansas State

SOUTH

1 Duke over 9 Louisville
4 Purdue over 5 Texas A&M
3 Baylor over 6 Notre Dame
7 Richmond over 2 Villanova

SWEET SIXTEEN

MIDWEST

1 Kansas over 5 Michigan State
2 Ohio State over 11 San Diego State

EAST

4 Wisconsin over 1 Kentucky
2 West Virginia over 3 New Mexico

WEST

1 Syracuse over 12 UTEP
7 BYU over 3 Pittsburgh

SOUTH

1 Duke over 4 Purdue
3 Baylor over 7 Richmond

ELITE EIGHT

MIDWEST

1 Kansas over 2 Ohio State

EAST

2 West Virginia over 4 Wisconsin

WEST

1 Syracuse over 7 BYU

SOUTH

3 Baylor over 1 Duke

FINAL FOUR

1 Kansas over 1 Syracuse
2 West Virginia over 3 Baylor

CHAMPIONSHIP

1 Kansas over 2 West Virginia

Yahoo! Tournament Pick ‘em

ROUND ONE

MIDWEST

1 Kansas over 16 Lehigh
9 Northern Iowa over 8 UNLV
5 Michigan State over 12 New Mexico State
4 Maryland over 13 Houston
6 Tennessee over 11 San Diego State
3 Georgetown over 14 Ohio
10 Georgia Tech over 7 Oklahoma State
2 Ohio State over 15 UC Santa Barbara

EAST

1 Kentucky over 16 East Tennessee State
8 Texas over 9 Wake Forest
5 Temple 12 Cornell
4 Wisconsin over 13 Wofford
6 Marquette over 11 Washington
3 New Mexico over 14 Montana
7 Clemson over 10 Missouri
2 West Virginia over 15 Morgan State

WEST

1 Syracuse over 16 Vermont
8 Gonzaga over 9 Florida State
12 UTEP over 5 Butler
13 Murray State over 4 Vanderbilt
6 Xavier over 11 Minnesota
3 Pittsburgh over 14 Oakland
7 BYU over 10 Florida
2 Kansas State over 15 North Texas

SOUTH

1 Duke over 16 Arkansas-Pine Bluff
9 Louisville over 8 California
12 Utah State over 5 Texas A&M
4 Purdue over 13 Sienna
11 Old Dominion 6 Notre Dame
3 Baylor over 14 Sam Houston State
7 Richmond over 10 St. Mary’s
2 Villanova over 15 Robert Morris

ROUND TWO

MIDWEST

1 Kansas over 9 Northern Iowa
5 Michigan State over 4 Maryland
3 Georgetown over 6 Tennessee
2 Ohio State over 10 Georgia Tech

EAST

1 Kentucky over 8 Texas
4 Wisconsin over 5 Temple
3 New Mexico over 6 Marquette
2 West Virginia over 7 Clemson

WEST

1 Syracuse over 8 Gonzaga
13 Murray State over 12 UTEP
3 Pittsburgh over 6 Xavier
7 BYU over 2 Kansas State

SOUTH

1 Duke over 9 Louisville
12 Utah State over 4 Purdue
3 Baylor over 11 Old Dominion
7 Richmond over 2 Villanova

SWEET SIXTEEN

MIDWEST

1 Kansas over 5 Michigan State
3 Georgetown over 2 Ohio State

EAST

4 Wisconsin over 1 Kentucky
2 West Virginia over 6 Marquette

WEST

1 Syracuse over 13 Murray State
7 BYU over 3 Pittsburgh

SOUTH

1 Duke over 12 Utah State
3 Baylor over 7 Richmond

ELITE EIGHT

MIDWEST

1 Kansas over 3 Georgetown

EAST

2 West Virginia over 4 Wisconsin

WEST

1 Syracuse over 3 Pittsburgh

SOUTH

3 Baylor over 1 Duke

FINAL FOUR

1 Kansas over 1 Syracuse
2 West Virginia over 3 Baylor

CHAMPIONSHIP

1 Kansas over 2 West Virginia

Remember, all picks guaranteed to be right (or wrong) or your money back!

Take a Look, It's in a Book

2009-10-21T16:26:00.013-04:00

"Channel surfing is what you do when there is nothing on TV.
Reading is what you do when the TV is broken."
- The Grumpy Monkey

They said it would never happen. Eventually, they said it could never happen. Years of prodding and encouragement couldn't make it happen. Incentives and punishment couldn't make it happen. Eventually everyone gave up and stopped caring if it happened. Then somewhere, somehow, somewhen and for no apparent reason other than perhaps a sign of the Apocalypse, it happened.

The Grumpy Monkey became a reader.

(silence)

Of books.

(startled gasps)

Without pictures.

(mass hysteria)

It's true. I've actually read 42 books so far this year. 42! That number could possibly exceed the number I've read throughout the rest of my 29 years combined. From classics I was supposed to read in high school, like The Catcher in the Rye and Catch-22 (both great books, although I think I read Catcher too late in life as through the entire novel I wished I could just slap the shit out of Holden Caulfield), to the latest Dan Brown novel, The Lost Symbol (ehh...disappointing). There were even a few history books in there (A Voyage Long and Strange by Tony Horwitz was fantastic).

The "Literature" category in Trivial Pursuit was always my weakness. My older sister would always count on that when I was beating her (one time she got burned because I happened to be reading the book in question at the time). Because of that, she gave me a quizzical look one day while I was reading and asked, "When the hell did you become a reader?" I had no answer other than a dumbfounded look. She seems to think it stems from a lack of intellectual stimulation in my life at present, which could be part of it. I found another answer, while I was reading The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde (yes, I can actually make references to books now, too). In one scene, Dorian Gray, who has become a hedonist since realizing that any any sin or ignoble act he commits will be reflected on his portrait rather than himself, does something relatively nice in letting down a woman gently rather than breaking her heart. He later asks himself whether he did it because he was beginning to see the error in his ways, or for a much simpler reason: vanity. I think the same holds true for my sudden interest in literature. In the beginning, I think it was an attempt at looking smart. Here's the thing, though: I found that I liked it. So what if I started in the name of vanity? I found out what I had been missing all those years.

For years, I could never appreciate the value of the novel. If I was to read, I wanted to get something useful, some knowledge, out of it. This in itself, and being a history major (and so only reading history books), was, I think, why I never read. I mean, seriously, have you ever read a history book? Most of them are so boring, and my desire to retain every detail (rather than just the important ones) would usually get me through Chapter 1 before the book became a doorstop. I never realized that the novel could be educational and useful.

So, my apologies go out to all my teachers. And my parents. And everyone else who I frustrated with the hindrance to my education that a lack of interest in reading caused. You all were right, I was wrong. Maybe if I had read the books for the book reports in school (instead of, one time, doing a book report of a friends book report that he did of the back cover of a book. Still got a B+, though), I wouldn't be sitting here writing a blog that nobody reads. Or at least nobody will admit they read, for which I cannot blame them.

But for now I can take solace that, at long last, I can sit down and read a book and get all the way through it.

And then I can use it as a doorstop.

The Agony is Over (This Year, at Least)

2009-10-06T13:27:00.009-04:00

It's okay to open your eyes now, Mets fans. The misery is finally over. The ~~Miracle~~ Miserable Mets mercifully concluded their train wreck of a season Sunday. The only thing I can say about it all is this:

The Mets were still playing until Sunday?

Traditionally, I wear my black Mets jersey the day after the Mets last game as a sign of mourning at the end of another championship-less season. Normally, that would be in October. This year I wore it in June, right after Luis Castillo dropped Alex Rodriquez's pop-up. That was about the point when I knew the season was over. After that, I just stopped paying attention. It's not because I'm a fair weather fan, because I'm not. I weathered the mid-90's years. This year, though, I just couldn't watch them anymore. Their play was revolting, and I'm surprised I haven't heard of any mass suicides (or mass murders) because of it. I know watching them play sure made me want to kill somebody. Who knows? Maybe I did. I blacked out a couple of times there.

Say what you want about the injuries. I'll admit, the Mets did have more than their fair share of injuries this year. Mets players spent a total of 1,480 days on the disabled-list. 1,480 days. That's 4 years worth of DL time. It was so bad that they were calling up players from Buffalo (AAA) and Binghamton (AA), the Mets' two minor league teams that both finished last in their respective leagues. Just think of all that future "talent"! Still, I think they were on their way down even before the injuries became ridiculous. They just didn't look like a team that had the heart to make a serious World Series run. I could write a long post on all their shortcomings this year, but much like actually watching the games, the thought makes me want to hurt things.

Urge to kill rising. Rising.

Plus, I just don't have the time or energy.

I think I blame Sports Illustrated. The moment I saw the cover where they picked the Mets to win the World Series, three words came to mind:

Oh, they're fucked.

And yea, verily it came to pass. They didn't quite finish last like I had (half-seriously) predicted, but they certainly tried. And as a sort of final "Eff You" to all their fans out there, the Mets decided that they would actually win the last game of the season. That's something they couldn't accomplish the last two seasons, you know, when it actually mattered.

Reading over this post, I noticed it seems disorganized, not well thought out, and generally not as good as I had hoped. But I'm not going to change any of it.

What better way to pay tribute to the 2009 Mets?

Fantasy Football 2009 Week 3

2009-10-01T10:06:00.001-04:00

Finally my players have started to put up some points. I had my best point week so far. Unfortunately, so did my opponent. But it looks like I'm finally starting to piece together something resembling a competitive Fantasy Football team.

After admonishing myself last week for letting Giants WR Mario Manningham go, I picked up his teammate, the other Steve Smith. That worked out well as Smith nabbed me 12 points, while Manningham put up only 5. I think both are the real deal, but Smith is looking like Eli Manning's go-to guy right now. Speaking of whom, Manning had another nice week, again throwing for 2 touchdowns and no interceptions. I would have like for him to throw for more than 161 yards, but I won't complain about his 18 points. Unfortunately for me, my opponent had the other Manning as quarterback, who decided to mock me and my good week by putting up 36 points.

With all my players having played on Sunday and my opponent having Jason Whitten still to play on Monday, I found myself down by 16 points. I pretty much already had lost. Still, I found myself thinking (yes, I realize how bad of an idea that is).

Well, if Whitten fumbles the ball six times...

That didn't happen, of course, nor will it probably ever happen. If anyone ever fumbles six times in one game, the coach would need to be fired for keeping the player in the game after the first two, maybe even three. So, I lost Week 3 by 23 points. The coming week should be as good or better, as many of my key players are playing weak teams. With any luck, I should be able to get back up to .500.

Of course, I now realize that my last three posts have been about nothing but Fantasy Football. Hopefully, my readers won't think that my life has been consumed by my burning desire to crush the rest of my Fantasy League. Fear not, fair readers. My life is not all Fantasy Football, and soon enough I'll be posting again about things that aren't Fantasy Football.

Like Fantasy Hockey.

Fantasy Football 2009 Week 2

2009-09-24T13:02:00.004-04:00

-Phew!-

Thank you Eli Manning, the Giants defense and, indirectly, Tony Romo for saving my ass this week. I made some changes from my team last week such as picking up Cedric Benson at RB, Michael Clayton and Nate Burleson at WR and dropping Darren McFadden and Domenik Hixon and his lousy one point. The Benson pickup proved wise, as he put up 14 points, but the Burleson and Clayton pickups were worthless, netting me 6 points between the two.

I took some calculated (read: stupid, but they worked) risks this week which included starting the Giants D against the Cowboys rather than the Patriots D against the Jets and starting Eli Manning over Phillip Rivers. I had counted on the Cowboys-Giants game to be a high scoring affair, which it was. I also counted on Tony Romo's inability to show up for a big game, which he didn't. I just didn't think I would be so overwhelmingly right.

For the second week in a row, my players really didn't do much. But once again, I got lucky that my opponent didn't have a great week, and so was somewhat within reach, even if I needed huge games from Manning and the Giants D. But after Rivers went 436-2-2 (yards-touchdowns-interceptions) and put up 24 points on my bench, I was somewhat downtrodden, thinking that I once again that I don't know what I'm doing (which is quite possibly true). Especially when I went into Sunday night's game down 31 points. I figured I could have used those 24 points. My second thought was, "Where the hell were those 24 points last week against the fucking Raiders?" Plus my opponent had Dallas WR Roy Williams on his team, all but guaranteeing that Williams would have a monster game. Perhaps, though, the fantasy football gods are smiling upon me.

Eli Manning went 330-2-0 and put up 25 points. Not only did Romo not show up, he didn't even bother to phone it in. Dallas actually had to put his Fathead poster on the field to play. The Giants D, even though they gave up 31 points, picked off Romo's Fathead three times and recovered a fumble, giving me another 13 points. Meanwhile, Roy Williams joined the Domenik Hixon 1-Point Club. So, I won by 6 points. There was much rejoicing. And I am 1-1 with the lowest point total in the league (the guy with the third highest total is 0-2).

One thing that's going to bother me, though. Mid-week, I had picked up Giants WR Mario Manningham. For some reason, I decided to drop him again the next day. That's another 21 points I could have had. Of course, another team snagged him before I could grab him again. Next week, when he again has more points than my three receivers combined, I'll be kicking myself all over the place.

And the suicide note will follow.

Ah, sweet Fantasy Football.

Fantasy Football 2009 Week 1

2009-09-18T11:36:00.009-04:00

The start of every new NFL season brings with it the beginning of triumphs and frustrations for football fans everywhere, as millions of amateur GM's draft and tinker with rosters that they hope will lead them to the promised land. Some people call it an excuse to sit in front of the TV every Sunday (and Monday. And some Thursdays), which it is. Others call it a ridiculously colossal waste of time, which it is. Us faithful simply call it Fantasy Football.

I wasn't able to participate in my league's live draft, so I had to rank my players for the best possible chance of obtaining them through the auto-draft feature. I hate the auto-draft, but my reasons would take up another whole blog. Somehow I ended up with Giants third-string receiver Domenck Hixon on my roster, which I can only attribute to a mistake in my player rankings. But other than that, I got a pretty solid line-up. Phillip Rivers at QB; Hines Ward, Lee Evans and Hixon at WR; Matt Forte and Darren McFadden for RB; Antonio Gates at TE; Tennessee kicker Rob Bironas and the New York Giants' defense (sick!). On the bench I had QB Eli Manning, RB Jamal Lewis, TE Visanthe Shiancoe, and WR Michael Crabtree, and the New England Patriot's D. Crabtree wouldn't sign, so I had to release him.

Now, for whatever reason, I neglected to make any changes to my roster prior to Week 1, so Hixon I still had as a starter. Needless to say, this was pretty dumb. Even still, I went in to the week feeling that I could win and after the Tennessee-Pittsburgh game on Thursday, I was up 12-0. It could have been 15-0, had Hines Ward not lost a fumble (Fumble No. 1). Nonetheless, I felt good, I felt strong. Then came Sunday.

I only had 3 players playing on Sunday, having played 2 on Thursday and the remaining 4 on Monday. Still, with Forte, the Giants D and (good God..) Hixon on Sunday, I thought I could muster at least a few points. That was not to be. The Giants D put up 20 points for me, but even that was a disappointment, because I lost 5 points on the Redskins fake FG they ran in for a touchdown, and another 5 points when the Giants decided to play prevent in the 4th quarter. Yes, it was a prevent...preventing me from winning. Hixon, meanwhile, managed to earn a whopping 1 point. Still, I thought, I have Forte in the late game. Should get 10 or 15 out of him. WRONG! 5 points is all he managed to muster. And so, I got 26 points all told on Sunday, bringing my total to a ridiculously low 38.

Ah, but I was in luck! My opponent didn't have a very good Sunday, either. My opponent scored 46 points, helped by Green Bay inexplicably going for two Sunday night and converting. This cost my opponent another 5 points as his Bears defense dropped from the 14-20 points allowed category to the 21-27. And although he was leading by 8 points, going in to Monday, he played 7 of his 9 on Sunday, having only 2 left for Monday, while I still had 4. The bad news, his remaining players were Tom Brady and Wes Welker. But, my spirits were still high. I had Rivers, Gates, Evans and McFadden. As long as Rivers could at least keep close with Brady, I should emerge triumphant.

Toward the end of the Buffalo-New England game, Welker had 9 points, but Brady only had 18! Surely Rivers could match that against the Raiders defense! Yes, praise be to the football gods! Then the football gods showed what they think of me. Buffalo up by 5 with two minutes left. They get the kick-off and all they need is to...what? What the hell just happened? Leodis McKelvin fumbles the ball (Fumble No. 2)! Patriots recover! At the Bill's 20-something! And, of course, in the next two minutes, Brady throws for another touchdown. Meanwhile, Lee Evans get me a whole 2 points. But hey, that's double what Domenik Hixon got me!

So now I'm down 39 points heading into the late Monday game. I still have hope, since I have 3 players in that game, and my opponent is done. Plus it's Rivers and Gates against the Raiders D! Rivers easily should pass for 300 yards, maybe 3 or 4 touchdowns, maybe even one to Gates. Alas, again, this was not to be. Until the last San Diego drive, Rivers only had 8 points. He mustered another 5 on that last drive, finishing with 13. Gates? He had 8. And McFadden finished with 5, which should have been 8, except he fumbled, too (Fumble No. 3). Clearly not close to the 39 I needed. The bad thing was, for the last 5 minutes of the game, I was still hoping against hope for something big to happen in my favor.

Well, if McFadden runs for 70 yards and scores a touchdown, I could still win.

If Rivers throws for 50 more yards, all to Gates, then throws him a touchdown, I could still win.

If Christ returns to earth right this moment, takes me to an alternate reality in which McKelvin falls to the ground instead of fumbling it, and the Giants play defense in the fourth quarter, I could still win.

So, I lost Week 1. Not only that, but I scored the least amount of points of anyone in the league. Quite possibly the least amount points ever. Go me! To wrap up:

-I went in to Monday only down 8 with 4 players left against my opponents 2, and lost by 13.

-3 fumbles (one of which was from a player not even on my team!) essentially cost me 12 points. Of course, since I lost by 13...

-My three receivers and two running backs netted me a total of 20 points, including that one point from Hixon, and not one of my receivers, running backs, or tight end scored a touchdown.

Frustrations abound, I spent most of Tuesday incredulous and angry that my team sucked so much. I just wanted to get rid of everybody and start anew. Stupid game. Why does everything bad happen to me? Sure, there are starving people and horrible atrocities going on all over the world, but Phillip Rivers can't muster more than 13 points against the Raiders? What. The. Fuck. I don't even want to play anymore. I quit.

At least until Week 2.

Ah, sweet Fantasy Football.

No Trophy for Old Men

2009-07-24T09:58:00.003-04:00

My parents always tried to instill good values in me and my sisters when we were growing up. They taught me about good work ethic, sportsmanship, the value of a dollar, etc. Most of those lessons stuck with me. Others, like that whole value of a dollar thing, I have still yet to grasp. One thing the never did was hold us in such high esteem as to put us on a pedestal above everyone else. They kept our feet firmly planted on the ground. They never discouraged our dreams in any way. They merely prepared us for the reality that things don't always work out as you want them to. They instilled in us what my sister says might be "an overdeveloped sense of humility." So when I read this article in the New York Times the other day, I couldn't help but wonder if this new generation of emerging adults has been so coddled as kids that they can't deal with the harsh realities of life.

In the spring of 1989, when a cell phone cost a mere $2,500 and could only make phone calls, the New Kids on the Block were Hangin' Tough and Exxon was spreading the wealth, I played my first year of Little League baseball. After a few years of being my town soccer league's version of Chris Norwood, before anyone knew who Chris Norwood was, I decided to try my hand at baseball. I was actually pretty good at it, too. I batted around .900 and had 37 stolen bases in 38 attempts. Of course those stats may have become somewhat inflated in memory in the twenty years since, but I do remember only getting caught stealing once and being good enough to be one of my team's two entries in the league's All-Star Game. Who knows? Maybe with a little effort, I could have become a decent ball player in my adult life.

Anyway, the rest of my team, the Cardinals, was pretty good, too. Good enough even that we made it all the way to the town championship game against the heavily favored Yankees. The details of the game aren't important, insomuch as I can't remember most of them. We played well and were actually winning for a bit, but ultimately their team was better, and prevailed. After the game at the trophy presentation, the Yankees got the blue trophies, and my team was awarded the red trophies. The second place trophies. Runners up. The first loser. I remember thinking how badly I wanted that blue trophy. For one, at the time blue was my favorite color, and more importantly, not having the blue trophy meant we didn't win. I was disappointed, maybe even a little traumatized. I remember crying into my mother's arms in the last inning (dude, I was nine). From that point on, I was always on a quest for my blue trophy. Or at least some reasonable metaphorical substitute.

Now, don't get me wrong. As those who are even remotely associated with me well know, I am no overachiever. I don't try to be the best at everything. I rarely try to be the best at anything. Often I set the bar low for myself so that I can never disappoint and anything good that happens is always a pleasant surprise. But every once in a while, I get my mind set on achieving some goal, and I go for it. I was always told that I could do anything I put my mind to. The caveat being that I would have to work hard for it. Unfortunately, many of today's parents seem to have forgotten to impart that small but vital piece of information upon their children.

The new adults grew up in an era where everyone got a trophy just for showing up. Everyone was equal. All the kids were special. There were no losers, only winners. That's all lovely and good except for one minor detail. That isn't the way that real life works. Not everyone gets a trophy in the real world. Most everything is based on merit and will and work. Just showing up doesn't get you that promotion (unless you're with the boss's daughter...or are the boss's daughter). And sometimes, especially when the economy is in the dire straits it is in right now, not everyone gets the job. That's life. But these kids aren't prepared for that. And now we have to hear about it.

In retrospect, that game some twenty years ago was really my first life lesson: You only get the blue trophy if you work hard enough to get the blue trophy. It sucked and it was painful at the time. But it started preparing me for real life. I sometimes look at that red second place trophy and think about what it represents and how it changed my life.

And then I think about buying some metallic blue spray paint.

Fun at the Airport!

2009-06-30T18:50:00.002-04:00

Flying is supposed to be easy. Even with all the security checks and restictions imposed on travelers, the act of transporting oneself from Point A to Point B in an airplaine is supposed to be safer, more efficient and, most importantly, faster than say, taking a car or a bus. Every other time I have flown somewhere, this has been the case. So, when it came time for me to travel to Connecticut from The Grumpy Monkey headquarters in Buffalo this past weekend, I opted for the plane rather than the car (7 hours) or the bus (I don't even want to think about it). The fact that it took me somewhere in the area of 18 hours to get to LaGuradia Airport is how I found out that sometimes the easiest solution is the biggest pain in the ass.

I was worried on Friday that I had too much to accomplish and not enough time before I had to get to the airport. After rushing to finish everything that I had to, I hopped the bus and made it to the airport about an hour before my 5:17 p.m. flight. I was able to get through security in about five minutes, since nobody actually lives in Buffalo anymore. So I sat down at my gate and waited for the boarding call. And waited...and waited...Finally, about fifteen minutes before the flight was scheduled to leave, someone had the bright idea to ask the lady at the counter what was going on. It turns out that the aircraft which was supposed to transport me from Buffalo to New York City hadn't even arrived from New York City yet. There were severe thunderstorms and even tornado warnings down there. But apparently, since no announcement was ever made, that information was to be classified along with the JFK files and sealed from the public.

There was obviously some grumbling about as some people with seemingly important lives than my own scrambled to find another flight that would get them to LaGuardia in the relatively near future. Myself, having to be at no particular place at no particular time, decided to grab something to eat and wait for more news. Meanwhile, over the next half hour or so, a plethora of announcements came about the flights to LaGuardia following mine. Most of them had been canceled, with mine still merely delayed, even though it was still stuck in Queens. I couldn't help but think that I was lucky for picking the flight that I did, and I would still get to New York that evening rather than have to wait until the next day. This becomes important later.

So, after I had eaten, I sat myself and my computer at the gate which I hoped would eventually open and allow me to board an airborne vehicle. I was reading the instruction manual for my new cell phone, and glancing around at all the people who were trying everything they could to secure seats on other flights, and even trying to have the airline hold a seat on another flight in the event that this one was eventually canceled. Suddenly, I see flashing lights and an alarm, just like a standard fire alarm. A voice comes over the loudspeaker and announces that " . We are working to find the cause for the alarm. Stand by for further instructions." To me, this translates as "You might all be blown up soon, but we don't know for sure. Sit tight, and we'll let ya know."

Surprisingly, no one else seems even slightly aware of this happening, much less seeing it as a cause for concern. Every one just goes about what they were doing beforehand. Myself, I calmly pack my laptop and cell phone back into my bag and stroll to another section of the terminal. The other people around might describe it as more of a maniacal sprint, but they were all probably drunk. And still are. No matter what they say. Anyway, as I approached the other side of the terminal, I realized that Buffalo Niagara International Airport has a name that is actually bigger than the airport itself. Which means that, if something bad happens somewhere in the airport, something bad is happening everywhere in the airport. I'm getting blown up no matter what.

Nothing bad happened, and the alarm soon went silent. There was still the embarrassing walk back to my departure gate. You know, after the mad dash to the opposite side? Finally, some concrete information came through. The plane coming in from Queens, the one supposedly taking me back to Queens, would arrive in Buffalo at 8:55. Mind you, this is a mere 3 hours and 38 minutes after I was supposed to leave. But, I figured I was still going to get to New York sometime in the middle of the night and get some sleep before I had to meet with family. I mean, I thought that was what was going to happen. That wasn't what happened.

Around 8:00 p.m. another announcement came on telling all the passengers from Flight 4385 to LaGuardia that the flight was now canceled. Now, remember that part about all the flights following mine already having been canceled? Well, of course that means that all the good flights going to Queens the next day were already booked because of it. I ended up with a choice of flying from Buffalo to New York City with a stop over in either Boston or the Land of Nod. I figured there wasn't much difference and chose Boston.

I really didn't want to spend another twelve hours in the airport. So, I hopped on a bus and went home just so I could not sleep and hop on another bus at 5 a.m. and try everything all over again. I finally got to where I was going at 1 p.m., after leaving my house the first time almost 24 hours prior. No sleep. No shower. And I really had to pee.

At least I get to ride in a cramped car on the way back.

Twittering Heights

2009-06-24T10:23:00.005-04:00

To tweet, or not to tweet? That is the question.

Or at least the question that comes after "What the hell is a tweet?"

I have to admit that I have really struggled to comprehend the internet craze that is Twitter. About the only thing I have gleaned about this phenomenon is that a "tweet" is an update on your Twitter page, which I suppose it better than calling it a "twit". Other than that, I don't get it. I guess if you think about it, when Facebook first came online, it was little more than a glorified Flickr and Twitter combined. Now there are several hundred thousand applications that one can use. But Twitter does absolutely nothing. All you get is 140 characters to express to the world your deepest thoughts. If only Dostoyevsky could have accomplished that.

I did find it somewhat clever that some Twitter users, on June 16th (Bloomsday) managed to get Chapter 10 of James Joyce's Ulysess posted in it's entirety. But otherwise, I really can't understand the fascination with it. Why do over a million people care when Ashton Kutcher is going to the bathroom? How does Oprah get 73,000 followers before even sending out a tweet? Why does the end of that last sentence sound plain silly? These are things I'll never figure out.

Alas, for reasons unbeknown even to myself, The Grumpy Monkey has joined the fray and entered Twitter Madness, and all my faithful readers (oops...I mean reader. Thanks, Josh.) can feel free to follow me. Somehow, I already have four followers, and I haven't tweeted yet, and only one of them is someone I know. Who knows? Maybe I'll even create a Fan Page on Facebook.

Oh wait. I'm already working on that.

RANDOMNESS

Just don't call him a "momma's boy"
49-year-old Thomas Parkin is accused of impersonating his dead mother to collect Social Security benefits. A few days later, he denied having any involvment in the plot and blamed it all on another impersonator. He then proceeded to ramble about the psyche of Norman Bates. My favorite part, I think, is his Bates-esque quote as he was being arrested: "I held my mother when she was dying and breathed in her last breath, so I am my mother." Only in New York, eh?

And the whole curriculum will consist of Phys. Ed. classes
A high school in North Miami has been named after former Miami Heat star Alonzo Mourning, winning a vote over former US Attorney General Janet Reno. Considering many people there are still upset with Reno for sending Elian Gonzalez back to Cuba, I suppose it seems like a logical impulse decision. Of course, if the basketball team sucks...watch out!

So long, Ed
TV personality and top second-banana Ed McMahon passed away yesterday at age 86. In homage, The Grumpy Monkey presents his debut rap video:

Not Just Amazin'...Awfully Amazin'!

2009-06-16T18:31:00.011-04:00

This should somehow be incorporated as the 2009 New York Mets motto this season. Or maybe, Amazin'ly Awful! Or perhaps if you combine the two, as in "It's awfully amazin' that this team is so amazin'ly awful." the gutless train wreck that is this Mets team can be properly expressed. How else can a Met fan feel after watching two consectutively horrendous series against their two biggest rivals, the Phillies and the Yankess? What should have been a five win in six game span turned into four losses in the same period, three of those games lost because of blown late leads. Anybody watching those games has to ask "Sports Illustrated really picked these guys to win the World Series?"

It almost doesn't bother me that the Mets lost those games. Losing happens. It's the way in which they were lost that drives most Met fans to bridge jumping. I can deal with lack of talent. I have been a Met fan for a long time, including the paltry early-mid 90's when the same 11 fans showed up to the games. I have many friends who are Pittsburgh Pirate fans. I have seen a lot of talentless teams. Lack of talent is not the Mets problem, not with Carlos Beltran, David Wright, José Reyes (when healthy), et al. in the lineup. The problem this team has endured this season, as well as the three previous, is a lack of heart. Or, as my friend Jeff puts it, "an inescapable and inexplicable propensity for coming up small in the biggest spots."

I have never seen a team that exemplifies that more than the Mets this year. Runners missing bases. Multiple easy fly balls dropped. How many times can one team leave the bases loaded after only scoring one or two runs? Or after scoring no runs? Where's the big hit? How, at one point in the season, can a team's ace pitcher have a 0.78 ERA and only be 4-2? Talk about stressful job conditions. After two consecutive late season meltdowns, and the missed oppurtunity from the year before (which I lamented about in this October 2006 post, after I was done crying in my beer), one would think the competitive drive would be even stronger. All this team has done is rub salt in the wounds and raise the price of tickets.

Balls. Gumption. Heart. Intestinal fortitude. Call it what you want, this team doesn't have it. Three blown seasons in a row, and the makings of a fourth, provided they're even in contention at the end of the season.

It's shaping up to be a looong summer.

Infant-itesimal Thoughts

2009-06-14T11:14:00.007-04:00

Spending as much time with a six-month old infant as I have for the last month, I can't help but wonder sometimes what exactly is going through that little head. She can't speak yet, at least not in any form that is decipherable to anyone but herself (of course, I know some adults for which that last statement also holds true...), so I just have to guess. For instance, last month when I first met my niece, she stared at me for a moment, grabbed my beard and looked up at my brother-in-law. The look that she gave him conveyed a number of possible thoughts, ranging from "Oooh, fuzzy." to "Who is this transient and why does it have my Yellow Dog?"

She'll never remember this of course, because she's only six-months old. So by the time she's able to speak, I won't be able to ask her what exactly she was thinking when, say, she decided it was a good idea to grab the cat's stomach while his claws were pointed directly at her. She won't be able to tell me if she really enjoyed the taste of the cork coasters more than the pureed broccoli, or why banging herself repeatedly about the head with her play phone seemed like fun. And when I ask her why she incessantly tried to eat the dog, she'll probably look at me as if I were crazy, which isn't altogether inaccurate.

As I mentioned in my previous post, she enjoys playing with that expensive baby toy which we'll call my old laptop. I'll even let her play with this one once in a while, since she tries to get at it no matter where in the room it is in relation to herself. One day it was nowhere in the room. I picked her up and her eyes lit up as if she knew it was time to play with the computer, until she actually looked around and couldn't find it. She then looked at me as if to say "So...where's the laptop? What good are you without the laptop?", and proceed to try to escape to her own toys.

Since I have shaved off the beard, I think she now recognizes me as someone who is not going to steal her Yellow Dog. Whether that recognition is as "Uncle Grumpy Monkey" or "Hey you! With the face!", I'm still not sure, but at least she knows who I am.

RANDOMNESS THINGS

Thing That Everyone Needs to Witness: A deaf couple arguing.

I'm not making fun of deaf people here, it's just an amazingly interesting phenomenon. The really interesting part is when one walks away and the other starts yelling to grab their attention. It seems kind of pointless. I wouldn't quite equate it with rubbernecking at a traffic accident, but it's up there. It's exactly like watching any other couple argue, except you don't know if your supposed to feel bad about being entertained by it. I also learned that it's actually possible to shout sign language. Who knew?

Thing That Needs to Go Away: Carrie Prejean.

Quick, how many other Miss California USA's can you name? Can't think of any? Neither can anyone else, for which there is a reason. Nobody cares. But this particular media whore is milking it for all it's worth. It couldn't be that she blatantly broke many of her contractual obligations, it has to be her opinion on gay marriage that got her fired. Nevermind the fact that the girl who is replacing her publicly holds the same view about it. Apparently she doesn't get that most people would have fired her just on stupidity alone. Her rambling about "opposite marriage", in this monkey's opinion, ranks right up there will all the USmericans who are in desperate need of maps. 14:55...14:56...14:57...

Thing That I'm Too Pissed to Write About: The New York Mets.

Maybe after I stop fuming about Friday's loss to the Yankees, I'll mention how terrible they are and how if I still lived in Pennsylvania I'd become a Pirates fan.

Before I sign off, what does everyone (anyone?) think of the new layout? It's based on this design, and I changed the code a little to suit my liking. I think it looks pretty sharp. I'm still tweaking the code, so feel free to comment on any problems or abnormalities. Anyway, that's all for now.

Later, monkeys.

Back on Tobacco Road

2009-06-06T14:13:00.006-04:00

"Quitting smoking is easy. I've done it a hundred times."
- Mark Twain

I have never appreciated how amazingly difficult is actually is to quit smoking until now. For 124 days, after smoking for ten-plus years, I abruptly quit. It was actually the second time during those ten-plus years that I had made any sort of conscious effort to rid myself of cigarettes, the first time lasting only a week (Note: Never, under any circumstances, attempt to quit smoking during the Christmas holiday and you have to drive your younger sister to the overcrowded mall on Christmas Eve. The only result is the failure of said attempt). This time was somewhat involuntary for reasons which I will not delve into at the moment. In any event, for those 124 days I was smoke (and fancy) free.

Then, on the 125th day, I gave in. Maybe it was the impending upheaval of my life from Pennsylvania to Buffalo, New York. Maybe the fact that everything was about to change, and the anxiety set in. Or, maybe it was the conversation the cigarette I had placed behind my ear struck up with me in a moment of weakness. In hindsight, I suppose it was a bad idea to keep the cigarette in a spot where it could quite easily whisper to me sweet and seductive nothings, which it did. Incessantly. I believe it went something like this:

CIGARETTE: Psst. Hey you. Smoke me.

ME: What? No.

CIGARETTE: SMOKE ME!

ME: Seriously, stop. I'm not going to smoke you, nor will I continue having a conversation with a cigarette.

CIGARETTE: If you're not going to smoke me, then why have you placed me behind your ear, where I can quite easily whisper to you sweet and seductive nothings, which I will. Incessantly.

ME: (after some thought) That's an excellent question to which I have no answer right now. I'll let you know when I do. Until then, will you please shut up?

CIGARETTE: C'mon, you know you want to. All the cool kids are doing it. I really have no reason to live anyw...whoa! Is it getting hot in here?

I'm still not sure if this event actually took place, or if it was a retroactive hallucination from the ensuing nicotine high. Nevertheless, the cigarette was smoked and I felt a certain sense of satisfaction in granting it's last wish. And also that nicotine high.

While on the phone with my mother a few weeks ago, she heard me light up and asked if I was smoking again. After reluctantly answering in the affirmative, I was subjected to a ten minute lecture on the dangers of smoking and "You went so long without them." I tried to justify it by explaining that I was smoking less now than I had been before, which was entirely true. I started smoking when I was eighteen when I worked at K-Mart (damn you K-Mart!). While there, I smoked close to two packs a day (if you've ever worked at K-Mart, then you know why). After I quit my job there, almost immediately I was down to a pack a day and stayed there until recently. When I began smoking again after my most recent 4 month hiatus, I was only going through a half a pack a day (of course, with the recent hike in tobacco taxes, I'm still spending the same amount...).

My whole life has been about small victories, as I perceive this to be. My mom perceives me to be an idiot, which is what I gathered when she responded to all of this by saying, "You're an idiot." This may well be, but I cannot understand how she expects me to be able to just up and quit. It took my sister and my brother-in-law numerous times until they quit, which my mother pointed out. I countered with that same fact, and referred her to the above quote by Mark Twain.

I have notoriously little will power, as evidenced by my track record of poor choices in impulse purchases. For instance, a laptop I purchased a few years ago was quickly supplanted several months later by my current one, and has since become a very expensive baby toy. That was not an income tax refund well spent, and no matter how much my little niece pounds and drools on it, it will never become so.

So, given this and the sexy, seductive voice of the cigarette (not to mention it's smooth, rich flavor), I'm not sure why it's such horrible and unexpected thing that I'm smoking again. I'm not really proud of the fact, but that's life. It's a wonder I made it those 124 days at all. But I've made a deal with myself that I will quit for good on my fast approaching 30th birthday.

And if that doesn't happen, I'll still have 97 tries left.

Goodnight, Sweetheart, Goodnight

2008-09-28T09:27:00.006-04:00

"Goodnight, Sweet Shea, well it's time to go..."

On Roosevelt Avenue in Flushing, Queens stands a run down, obsolete building. It's quite famous for hosting The Beatles. The Yankees played there for two years while their own stadium was being renovated. In 1975, it actually hosted all 4 outdoor New York teams simultaneously.

The largest scoreboard in sports has cast a shadow over 3 NFL playoff games, one of which was the AFL Championship that sent the Jets to their Super Bowl III upset of the Baltimore Colts and began the spectaular year that was 1969.

Four World Series have been played on it's grounds, and two have been won there, including the Amazin's game 5 victory over the Baltimore Orioles that finished off that magical, improbable year of '69. You know, now that I think about it, Baltimore fans must hate that year...

O.J. Simpson made non-muderous history within the confines in 1973 by becoming the first running back to gain 2,000 yards in a single season...in 14 games. It has been graced by the Most High Pope John Paul II in 1979, on a day filled with torrential rain. When the Popemobile entered the stadium, however, the rain stopped. Spider-Man and Mary Jane were "married" there (in a re-enactment of the comic book), and VH1 has named it "the most hallowed venue in all Rock Music."

In October 1986, Bill Buckner helped prolong a curse that, at the time, was 68 years old but felt like an eternity. Almost 15 years later, in September 2001, Mike Piazza helped break a silence that had only lasted 10 days, but felt like an eternity.

A 2006 curveball unswung, a 2007 last game that stung, and a 2008 season the swan left unsung (man, that's good poetry) became it's last failures. Billy Joel and Paul McCartney were among those who played a concert to help close it out, the latter who finished the concert with "Let It Be", and was it's last success.

I have been to Fenway, Camden Yards, Yankee Stadium and Shea Stadium. Most likely, Fenway will never go away unless in some sort of natural disaster, or because of some deranged Yankee fan. No one will ever try to blow it up because the last thing we need is to give Boston another reason to open it's mouth.

My first baseball game was at Yankee Stadium on one of those Parks and Rec bus trips. The only real memories I have of that Stadium are from being at Game 2 of the first Subway Series in the middle of June 1997, where I sat somewhere in East Chester Bay (If you don't know New York, this joke is wasted on you. I was on the third base line, Upper Deck, row XX...seriously three rows before a concrete wall prevents you from a drunken fall to your death), watched a drunk guy fall over several rows of seats (yeah...not stairs, but seats...good thing he was falling away from the wall...) before the game even started, and then later I accidentally elbowed by sister in the face. The Mets eventually lost the game. I am not terribly upset that I will not make it back before the demolition crew.

"Oh, I hate to leave you baby, I don't mean maybe, because I love you so..."

I did not attend a game at Shea Stadium until 1988. I was only 8 years old, but I remember it vividly. It was another Parks and Rec trip. I can remember the shivers I had seeing the Stadium off to the left side as we got off exit 13. I can remember coming up the escalator for the first time and gazing upon the field I had only seen through a thick piece of perpetualy smudged glass attached to a contraption whose dial only went up to the number 15, followed by the letters "UHF". I could not believe I was actually there. My father and I walked around the stadium just so I could take it all in. We then settled in our Upper Deck seats and proceeded to watch Keith Hernandez pull a Bill Buckner against the Montreal Expos. It was a game so bad that the local news that night decided to fast foward through the "highlights." The Mets lost that game and the succeeding 16 that I attended. And each time I looked forward to the next time I could be there.

I was there for game 11 of the Mets' 10 game winning streak in July 1991 (They lost that game 2-1, and, if I recall correctly, if Mackey Sasser hadn't doubled in the ninth, I would have seen a no-hitter, albeit against the Mets). I was there a month later, for game 11 of their 11 game losing streak. I was there when "Hardball was Back!" I watched Anthony Young lose no less than 4 of his 27 in a row. I sat 3 rows behind the Mets dugout and watched Tom Seaver pitch in an Old Timer's Game. That same day, I watched the real Mets get stomped, and my aunt, uncle and I left in the 7th inning to beat traffic. I booed Bobby Bonilla in 1995. I cheered Mike Piazza in 1998. I was there when Bernard Gilkey saw a spaceship in the sky and let a fly ball bounce off his head. My best friend growing up, Jeff, his father and I were there with the same 7 other fans for most of the 90's, getting our 5 dollar upper deck tickets and promptly heading for the field seats. One night, Jeff's father called the Mets' box office to ask what time the game started. The respose: "What time can you get here?"

I sat through all 13 innings of Game 3 of the 2000 NLDS, listening, for the entire game, to some drunk guy (who I had sat behind all season) keep telling me how Benny Agbayani was going to win the game with a home run. Sure enough, come the bottom of the 13th inning, this drunk idiot became Nostradamus. But at least I didn't have to hear Joe Buck tell me that "Agbayani just let the dogs out". The next night, I watched Bobby Jones throw a one-hitter, of which the late, great Bob Murphy said "The Mets have never had a better pitched ball game in their 39 year history", and the Mets played on.

I was there a 8 days later when Mike Hampton sent Flushing into a euphoric state by 3-hitting the Cardinals and sending the Mets to the World Series for the first time in 14 years. The electricity there that night was something indescribable. And the Mets played on.

Nine days after that, a mere 3 hours after I was subjected to a live performance of the Baha Men "Who Let the Dog's Out?", I watched in horror as the Mets lost Game 4 of the World Series to the Yankees. Granted, Jeff had a worse experience the next night...

"Although I hate to see you go..."

Jeff said something to me recently about Shea Stadium that I totally agree with: "The place is a piss pot, but it's our piss pot." I grew up at Shea Stadium, and some of the best memories I have I experienced there. And it's somewhat depressing to know the seats in which I sat over the years will, next year, be occupied by a Hummers and BMWs. Sure, to most baseball fans, Shea Stadium did not hold the mystique and history of it's crosstown, back water cousin. All those fans suck. They're just jealous that they no longer have a generic cookie-cutter stadium to call their own. As of September 28, 2008, so am I.

"I hate to leave you but I really must say..."

I never made it back to Queens for a last hurrah. I wanted to go with my father again, but unfortunately my job makes getting weekend days off somewhat impossible. For this, I will probably always hate myself. In my mind, it is comparable to not attending a loved one's wake, something I once almost did. The Mets actually won the game which I was supposed to attend. That would not have fit the symmetry of losing the first game I attended. Plus, it would have made the next day that much harder to swallow. I always wish I went, though...

Shea Stadium is, and always will be, "The Townhouse that Mr. Met Rented", and when it disappears, so does a piece of me. The hard reality is that Shea will be dark in October, just as it has for 38 of the last 45 seasons. What hurts most is that, come next April the lights are not coming back on. Rather, there will be a shadow cast from across the street on a strech of pavement, a carefully lined piece of asphalt to which even my future wife will be second place and never understand why. I'll just tell her she reminds me of the team that played there.

"Goodnight, Sweet Shea, goodnight."

Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back!

2008-08-06T02:56:00.008-04:00

Hello again, all you monkey lovers! It's good to be back from what we'll call a sabbatical. I know, I know. I tend to take too many of these "sabbaticals" to acquire any frequent readers other than these two guys. But for now, I'm back.

Over the last three months quite a lot of stuff has happened in the Grumpy World:

The New York Rangers lost to the Pittsburgh Penguins in the NHL Playoffs, three days after my last post. Coincidence? Most likely. But I'm sure the excessive drinking that followed quite possibly contributed to my lack of interest in writing on this stupid thing.

With the Rangers loss came another tragic event: shaving off The Beard. Tears were shed and drains were clogged. I don't think I'm quite over this one yet...

I went to Vegas for a weekend in June to attend as friends wedding. Fun was had by all, or so I've been told. Sitting at the bar drinking gin and tonics all weekend does not a very good recollection make.

I barely made it back from Vegas as, in my infinite wisdom, neglected to leave gas money in my car at the airport and then proceeded to spend everything I had (and more) at the casinos and bars...and I think a strip club. The light on my gas gauge was a very bright shade of orange as I pulled into my parking lot.

My cell phone was shut off...twice. I guess not paying the bill does come with certain consequences.

My electricty was shut off, too. But it was for three REEEEAALLLLY hot days in June. I slept out on the deck one of the nights because I was so damn hot everywhere else in the house. That, and a nice steak that I was saving for a special occasion got to sit in the non-working freezer for those three days. Whether or not it has gone bad has yet to be determined, but I'll let you know when I cook it.

My roommate and I decided to celebrate finally getting new jobs (and the return of the air conditioning) by throwing a keg party. Problem No. 1: We decided this an hour before we had to be at work. So we sent this retarded girl (whom is friends with the Grumpy Roommate) to get the keg. She does this, but her lack of foresight leads to Problem No. 2: She didn't rent a tap for the keg. Eventually she figured out a way for us to rent a tap from one of her friends for a small fee of $30. I just wanted to drink my beer, so I agreed. What I was unaware of at the time was that she would be taking the tap back the next day, leading to Problem No. 3: Half a keg of Miller Lite sitting in my living room and no way to get the beer out. It was still a good time, but I think we need to plan better next time.

The New York Mets were actually in first place for a couple of days late this past month. Then, they weren't again. Then, they watched the trade deadline pass without so much as farting in the general direction of anyone who would bolster their team. It's plausible that more excessive drinking late next month will be the beginning of a new "sabbatical".

That pretty much sums up the events of the last few months. There's probably stuff that happened about which I have forgotten, but that's OK since nobody reads this stupid blog anyway.

Later, monkeys.

And the Beard Goes On!

2008-05-01T23:41:00.004-04:00

No shaving until at least Sunday!

I was worried every since the Rangers gave away Game 3 in Eastern Conference Semifinals that The Beard may be seeing very close to being a memory for this year. They made me very happy, however, with a solid all-around performance in Game 4, taking down the Penguins 3-0 in New York.

Now that there is a Game 5 in Pittsburgh, what can we expect? I have no fucking idea. The Rangers and Pens have been very well matched all series, with each game really being very close. For one, the Rangers need to put some power play shot into the back of the net. Hell, it would be nice if they could even get some power play shots. In the first four games, including the empty net power play goal at the end of Game 4, the Rangers are 3-19 on the power play. That is 15.8% on the power play with probably no more than 25 shots total on those 19 tries. That is some atrocious man-advantage hockey playing.

What the Rangers really need to do, however, is basically what they did in Game 4. Keep out of the box, and hope Henrik Lundqvist can be as solid as he has been all season, but in Game 4 especially. If they can throw a few power play goals in there, all the better. If they can come out of Pittsburgh with a win, the series comes back to New York, then all bets are off. What a great series so far. Hopefully, it will keep going.

Vive la Beard!

Just for fun: This is quite possibly the funniest commercial I've ever seen.

Later, monkeys.

Shake, Rattle and (Rick)roll

2008-04-12T10:18:00.006-04:00

"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down,
Never gonna run around and desert you."

Such were the words blasted through the speakers at Shea Stadium for the New York Mets home opener against the Philadelphia Phillies. It is part of the chorus from Brit singer Rick Astley's 1987 hit "Never Gonna Give You Up." For those of you that still need help, he was the dorky looking, bad dancing red-head with the pompadour on MTV.

The song garnered more than 5 million votes in a fan web poll to select a Mets theme song for the year. As a write in. Worst of all, it won (the Mets later acknowledged the contest was rigged and will run a new one). Apparently, the Mets had been "rickrolled". Rickrolling is an Internet meme in which a person provides a link they claim is relevant to the topic at hand which actually takes the user to the Astley video. The prank can take the form of playing the song loudly in public in order to be disruptive, or (as in the Mets case) as a rigged contest.

Upon being played in the eight inning of that home opener, the song was promptly greeted with a shower of "boo's". This is, of course, why you don't let the fans vote for anything, especially in New York. But it is also the latest example of the incredible, albeit inexplicable, phenomenon that is rickrolling.

In February, the song was used in a Project Chanology protest of the Church of Scientology.

In March, four Eastern Washington University women's basketball games were rickrolled by a Rick Astley impersonator (or maybe it was actually Rick Astley...who knows?) lip-syncing while the song was played over the loudspeaker.

Numerous radio stations participate in various ways, and some web sites (including YouTube and LiveJournal) got into the act on April Fools day by redirecting some links to rickrolling sites.

I have to admit: it's one of those things which, after you see it a couple of times, is really fucking funny. And I don't know why. To be honest, it's really fucking stupid. But it's like a train wreck. You really don't want to see it, but you just can't look away. There are some rickrolling videos on YouTube that have in upwards of 9-10 million views.

Surprisingly enough, Astley himself has no interest in capitalizing on this fad, adding that he does find it a little bizzare and, in the case of the protest against Scientology, somewhat hilarious. But I do think there is room for other people to capitalize on this rickrolling thing.

For instance, the residents of Seattle. They are totally getting jacked of their NBA team, the Sonics, by...well pretty much everyone associated with keeping the team in Seattle, including the owners of the team and the NBA. They should get that guy from the EWU games and have him interrupt the Seattle games. It's only about a 4 hour drive from Cheney, WA (where EWU is located) to Seattle. This could work. If you did it enough, I'm sure the asshole owners of the Sonics would keep the team in town as a trade for making the song stop. It's kind of like my idea of making money by going to a strip club and threatening to take my clothes off. The money would pile in (followed, of course, by my skinny ass being tossed out on the pavement).

"Residents of Seattle, rickroll your team." Thus saith The Grumpy Monkey.

Ok, I've officially used the term "rickroll" way too many times here. So, I'm signing off. One last thing though:

Have you been rickrolled today?

Have fun with that, ha ha. Later, monkeys.

Playoff beards, activate!

2008-04-07T23:50:00.015-04:00

Ladies and gentlemen, it is that time of year again. Two months of hard-hitting, gut-wrenching, beard-growing euphoria. No, it's not an Eastern Bloc women's Olympic team clinic. It's the NHL Playoffs! More importantly, the New York Rangers are in again. Woohoo! And between myself doing little more than watching the New York Mets get off (heh heh..."get off"...) to a terribly mediocre start, and watching old Transformers cartoons on YouTube (since I'm too poor to actually purchase the episodes on DVD), it couldn't come too soon. I've been itching to not shave for weeks.

I must admit that last year's playoffs were quite a fun ride. The Grumpy Older Sister Meghann, with her beloved Buffalo Sabres, and myself were engaged in a lovely feux-taunting match until the Sabres dispatched of my Rangers in 6 games in the second round. But now, I have one of their captains on my team, and the Sabres are sans playoff beards. For those of you who don't understand the concept of the "playoff beard", check out here. Anyway,the Rangers look much better this year than last, and I am sensing a long playoff run. Maybe I won't have to shave until June. It might be a little hot, but it's worth a Cup.

So, without further ado, my 2008 NHL Playoff Predictions With Absolutely No Justification or Explanation (NHLPPWANJE):

Eastern Quarterfinals:

(1) Canadiens over (8) Bruins in 6 games
(2) Penguins over (7) Senators in 5 games
(6) Flyers over (3) Capitals in 7 games
(5) Rangers over (4) Devils in 5 games

Western Quarterfinals:

(1) Detroit over (8) Predators in 5 games
(7) Flames over (2) Sharks in 7 games
(3) Wild over (6) Avalanche in 6 games
(4) Ducks over (5) Stars in 6 games

All right, that's enough for today. I'll finish the predictions tomorrow. Or later. Or after the playoffs are over. Who knows? Later, monkeys.

Seriously, did that just happen?

2008-02-04T06:09:00.004-05:00

Yeah, so I've been drinking quite a bit, so I haven't quite wrapped my head around what happened this evening. All I'm saying is that the New York Giants destroyed the dream of the New England Patriots. My analysis comes tomorrow. Later, Super Bowl Champion monkeys.

Happy (Belated) New Year

2008-01-25T20:29:00.004-05:00

Hey, all. Happy New Year and all that stuff. Been a busy month, so the posts have been absent. I'll recap over the next few days, even it's just for the one or two people who actually stop by and visit. I'm so psyched about the Giants being in the Super Bowl. My roommate is a Green Bay fan, so that was kind of sweet, too. Ha ha. I put a countdown timer up top there (it's the Official NFL Super Bowl countdown widget!), not that anyone will have a problem remembering when it is. I just thought it looked cool. That's all for now. I'll be back. Later, monkeys.

Smell-phone

2007-12-14T16:02:00.009-05:00

So, it finally happened. After years and years of making fun of all of my friends who have had it happen to them, it happened to me. I finally dropped my cell phone in the toilet. I wasn’t even drunk, either. I made the mistake of taking the Browns to the Super Bowl with my hoodie on and my pockets full. One turn to the side and –ploop!- right in the water. Of course my first instinct was to grab it right out, but looking down in the bowl, I had to think about it for a second (the Browns were already on the field…). Some quick thinking led to me fishing it out with a fish tank net. Now if I can only get it to work. And maybe stop smelling like shit. Anyways, the lesson here is obvious: Don’t do steroids. No, wait, that was from the Mitchell Report…

An instant classic. Finally, after months of speculation and hype, former Sen. George Mitchell disclosed the contents of his report. And it was highly disappointing. Much like ‘Star Wars: Episode One’ and this year’s Chicago Bears, it was all hype but little substance. The fact is, most knew how disappointing and unenlightening this report would be. One could actually equate it with this year’s Knicks. Barry Bonds? Duh. Mark McGwire? Duh. Rafael Palmiero? Double duh. Scott Schoenweis? Du…wait. Schott Schoenweis is on ‘roids? God, imagine how much he sucked without them. Anyway, after getting only about 15 pages into this 409-page monster before plunging into a catatonic state (I’m better now), my question is this: When does the movie come out?

Just in case you didn’t notice… Sen. Mitchell implored baseball commissioner Bud Selig to forgo punishment on any of the current players who have used steroids, unless a player’s steroid use was so egregious as to endanger the integrity of the game (I’m paraphrasing. Senators would never use the word ‘integrity’). Sorry, Sen. Mitchell, but the integrity of the game has long since gone the way of polyester suits and Eric Gagne’s fastball. Must not have been watching for a while, eh?

Just for fun: Always with my BCS bashing, I thought I’d post this cartoon from Kurt Snibbe of ESPN.com’s Page 2. It made me smile inside.

Hey, that’s two blog posts in a week! That must be some sort of record or something. Well, I should get back to my last day of classes for the semester (Yippie!!!). Later, monkeys.

A Few Things To Get Me In The Mood (not like that...)

2007-12-12T00:50:00.003-05:00

Welcome, back my friends, to the show that never ends. There's so much...yada, yada. You know the song. It's been a while since I've posted any thoughts. But I'm sitting here not wanting to write a term paper that is due at 11:45 am on Thursday, so I figured why not? We'll start with the big story:

Michael Vick Gets 23 Months. I say good. I'm not saying that because of the inhumane way he killed those dogs. It's actually not much different than the inhumane way the slaughterers of the meat and poultry you and I eat kill their pigs, cows and chickens (but I bet that cow wanted to be electrocuted or beat over the head with a sledgehammer...). It's just more illegal. No, I say good because of the way he tried to weasel out of the situation. He did not man-up and say "Yes, I did this. It was wrong and I got caught." He lied to everyone, including his coaches and the owner of the Falcons, and pretended to everyone that he was some kind of upstanding citizen. And I like how the judge basically said “Fuck you” to the Federal Sentencing Recommendation of 12-18 months. I will say one thing, though. He will play in the NFL again, and I'll probably have to get my Number 7 Vick jersey when, for the 2010 season, he gets signed by the New York Giants to replace their recently retired starting quarterback, Trent Dilfer.

Giants 16, Eagles 13. I don't know which argument to take on this. It's either a) once again the Giants got away with a game they didn't deserve to win or, b) those Giants keep finding ways to win even when they aren't playing well. They should have lost this game. If David Akers doesn't slip while kicking his last second field goal, it goes right through and the game goes into overtime, where the G-Men would end up looking like...well, the G-Men, and lose. And there should have been a pass interference flag on Antonio Pierce, hands down.

Here's the thing: While their record might seem to indicate otherwise (9-4 this year as opposed to 7-6 last year at this point), the Giants aren't really playing any better this year than they were at this point last year. They are just getting lucky at the right times, as evidenced by Akers' kick. I predicted a at the beginning of the year that the G-Men would go 8-8 again this year, maybe 9-7, and again just barely get into the playoffs. I didn’t realize that their schedule, which at the outset of the season seemed strong (bad for the Giants) would turn out to be incredibly weak (good for the Giants). Yes, the still could lose the last 3 games and finish 9-7. But they could also win all 3 and finish 12-4.

Ok, that last part won’t happen because the Patriots do not wish it so. In any event, the G-Men will make the playoffs in better fashion then the one in which they made it last year, but I do not see them exiting the playoffs that way. Eventually, Eli Manning’s mistakes and seemingly different plays than the rest of his offense is going to have an adverse effect on the team, and it’s going to shut down. It will not be pretty.

Fuk...u...dome? I’m with Kosuke. I hate domes, too. I guess that’s why he’s coming to the US. He wanted out of his Chunichi Dragons home stadium. It’s a good thing he isn’t going to play for Minnesota.

Just For Fun. If you want to see how a Division I-A (or Bowl Championship Subdivision, if you suck at life) Playoff would work this year, check this out. I've only gotten Hawaii out of the first round once.

We interrupt this post for a crappy reason: I’m going to cut this post short. I should get back to writing my paper now. Or maybe I'll take a nap. Yeah, the nap sounds better. Later, monkeys.

The Return of the Idiot

2007-02-02T13:02:00.003-05:00

Wow. I guess it has been quite a while since I wrote anything here. Perhaps I can blame it on the nature of the previous post. Perhaps I can blame it on being lazy. Or, perhaps I can blame it simply on the fact that not a whole lot of what I have to say (including this) is worthy of other people wasting their time on. That being said, it's a good thing that they don't.

I figure I'll use this post as a warm up, something to get me back into the flow of things. So, here we go:

From the "How To Make Consumers Even More Pissed Off Handbook": Report that personal savings are at their lowest point in 74 years, then report later in the afternoon that Exxon posted it's largest profit ever. Yes, that's right. Exxon announced that it's profit of $39.5 billion for 2006 is some $3.4 billion more than the previous mark, set the prior year (well, duh...). That's $75,000 per minute. I can't even hope to earn half of that in a year, and I sell sex (although, now that I think about it, maybe that's why I can't earn that much...). At the same time, Americans spent more than they earned again last year and posted a savings rate of -1% (not a typo), the lowest rate since The Great Depression. Anybody else see something wrong with that? Of course, if people stopped dumping large quantities of oil in random places, the price wouldn't be so high.

Note to my fellow smokers: We are SCREWED! If the French government can ban smoking throughout the country, we can't be too far behind. With something along the lines of a third (or maybe a quarter...I don't remember) of the country being smokers, and even that much opposition failing to prevent a nationwide ban, how can the fine smokers of this country even hope to put up a fight? Of course, our national government would never do something that a great portion of the nation opposes. They can't be that stupid, right?

President Bush is sending over 21,000 more troops to Iraq: Ok, so maybe they can...

More reasons why Texas sucks (other than giving us George W. Bush): A recent bill proposed in Texas will cause parents to be fined and charged with a misdemeanor if they fail to show up for, or even schedule, a parent-teacher conference. If they have kids like me, the parents are going to rack up some large fines. How many of you out there “forgot” to tell your parents that parent-teacher conferences were coming up? I don’t think that my parents even knew the names of most of my teachers in high school, much less met with them. Hell, my parents would still be doing time if this had been a law when I was in school. I’m not saying what I did was right, but why hold the parents accountable for their retarded kids?

In Illinois: A mother was sentenced to 10 years for letting her kids drown in a car that sank in a lake. Apparently, she didn’t like that proposal in Texas, either.

With Groundhog Day being today: Punxsutawney Phil didn't see his shadow this year, which I guess means an early spring. That's good, since in State College this weekend the high temperature is supposed to be 8 friggin' degrees (yes, farehenheit). But my question is this: Why would anybody for any reason name any place Gobbler's Knob? Especially when the main attraction is a giant gerbil?

And of course,

The Obligitory Super Bowl XLI pick: Colts 26, Bears 21. And Prince moons the camera at halftime.

See? Now that wasn't so bad was it? Still, we'll call it spring training. Speaking of which, I can't wait until spring training.

A Met Fan's Lament

2006-10-20T16:15:00.008-04:00

The weather today in State College was rainy and cloudy and all around gloomy. Perfect weather since it is exactly the way I feel inside today. All day, consoling other disheartened Mets fans, and talking about what should have happened, wishing I didn’t have class this morning so I could drink my sorrows away. Fitting that I wear the black jersey to symbolize the beginning of the mourning period that one experiences only when a family member dies. Hell, a family member could have died and I don’t think it would compare to the sorrow, disbelief and incredible feeling of disillusionment that I am left with after watching Game 7 of the National League Championship Series.

It could have been a glorious October. It was supposed to be. They promised me that every time I logged on the Mets website and had to stare at that ridiculous tag line they sported for the entire year: The team. The time. First off, whoever thought that one up should have been fired and whoever approved that should have been shot. It’s so stupid, and yet it gave me false hope all season long. First, the Mets get off to a blazing start to the season, and by the All-Star break, the division crown is all but locked up. Sure, they faltered a little here and there, but even the greatest teams had their bad skids. Then comes the National League Division Series in which the Mets looked quite good, and they won, three games to none. With the Yankees getting bumped in the first round (and looking bad doing it) and the Mets about to play a team that all but collapsed during the last two weeks of the season, everything seemed to be coming up roses in Queens. This series should have been over in five games and the Mets should be on a plane to Detroit. Instead, much like in 1999 when Kenny Rodgers (yes, the now seemingly invincible fucking Kenny Rodgers whom the Mets should be playing against next week) walked in Gerald Williams in the bottom of the 11th of NLCS Game 6, I will be forever haunted by the image of Carlos Beltran, with the bases loaded, staring at a hanging breaking ball that should have been driven 450 feet the other way, float harmlessly over the plate for strike three. End of game. End of season. End of the glorious October dreams.

Why has my team forsaken me? Have I been anything but loyal and faithful for 22 years? How many hours of traffic have I sat in on the Bruckner Expressway? How many meaningless mid-summer games did I attend in the 90’s? The same games that, when we called and asked when the game started, the ticket counter receptionist replied “When can you get here?” The same games for which you could buy an Upper Deck seat for five bucks, give the usher another five and sit in the field seats, no problemo. Did I not get to Game 4 of the 2000 World Series just to watch Derek Jeter lead off by sending one over the center field wall? Am I not your donkey? And what do I get for my efforts? One World Championship (1986), two inexplicable upsets in the NLCS (1988 and this year), a World Series they shouldn’t even have been in (2000) and so many disappointing seasons (especially the mid-90’s “rebuilding years” that included the signings of Bobby Bonilla and the almost dead Eddie Murray) and broken promises it makes me sick to my stomach. Across town, the Yankee “fans”, the same ones who must have lost all their Yankee apparel since they were embarrassed by Detroit, still have all the glory. Yet I’m here, wearing my Mets jersey one last time before I hang them up for the winter, enduring the taunts of those same Yankee fans, and I get nothing.

Was Game 7 of the 2006 NLCS a great game? Sure, you could call it that. Great pitching, even better defensive plays. A heart attack looming with every pitch. This game will probably be on ESPN Classic tomorrow. But any real baseball fan will tell you that even the greatest of games are only truly great if your team wins. Saying a game is great when your team loses is like ugly people saying beauty is only skin deep. It's just something they say to try and ease the pain. This game was really good, sure, but Game 5 of the 1999 NLCS, when Robin Ventura hit the only home run ever that didn’t count to win the game, that was a great game. If Beltran takes that hanging breaking ball and puts it into the parking lot, then this is a great game. Instead, it’s a classic could’ve, should’ve, would’ve game, and we are all left to wonder, “what if?”

So, I take my black Mets jersey off, and I put it in the closet, thinking about those “what if’s”. The images of a “so close but yet so far” season stuck in my head, haunting me until April rolls around. This apparently wasn’t the team or the time. And I find myself repeating the hopeful words of an older generation of fans from Brooklyn, “Wait till next year.” Yes, next year, when hopefully the Mets will have a tagline that isn’t stupid. And maybe they’ll stop dangling that string of glory in my face just to pull it away when my hopes are at their highest. Yet, for all the disappointment they’ve given me over the years, I’ll still get out the jerseys in April, put them on and, like the sucker I am, dream about October baseball, and how glorious it will be. Until then, however, all I can think is KAHHHNNNN…er, I mean BELTRAANNNN! It doesn't matter when the rain stops here, because in my heart it'll be raining until April. Wait till next year, indeed.