John Maine said no when the Red Sox asked him if he wanted to pitch for them. But having the inside info on Maine helped them, as he is a habitual liar, so he signed the minor league contract. Hell the only reason the Red Sox got this far with him was that they gave him steak when he said he liked chicken.

Hey, you gotta do your homework with these players.

But if Maine tries that habitual liar junk with Bobby Valentine, V will take all his dirty laundry to the press. If John thought Dan Warthen was bad, Bobby V will make Maine the lead topic on The Insider. Either that or Bobby will just put Maine in the cage and give him the Kali Ma treatment before throwing him in the molten lava.

So hey, Carlos Beltran had some things to say:

"What happened in 2006, you have to turn the page. That’s over. We can’t bring 2006 back to 2012. It has been six years. If they want to continue to think about that moment, then that’s their problem. Like I said, I have turned the page. I have really moved on."

Listen Carlos, you were paid good money by the Mets. Why aren't you using it to invent and build a time machine to bring 2006 to 2012? I don't think it's that unreasonable.

Seriously, good for Carlos. It took him a while to move on, as I still that post game interview where he said that he still thinks about that strikeout well after it happens. So it takes a change of uniforms to wash those memories away. And that's fine. I'm not going to demand that Beltran lets this eat at him until the end of time. He wants to go to the Cardinals and make the playoffs, good for him. We've been through worse.

But just remember this, Carlos: We were here before you got here, and we're still here after you're gone. So it isn't that easy for us Mets fans ... especially since it was the last playoff game this franchise has been in, and probably will be for a while.

So good luck, Carlos. But we'll get over it on our own calendar, thanks. (See, not that complicated.)

I owe John Franco an apology.

His Mets career didn't get off to a great start, at least as far as I was concerned. During the winter of '89-'90, after Franco was traded to the Mets, he did an autograph signing at ... of all places, Pergament. For those unfamiliar, Pergament was a home improvement chain which was the precursor to Home Depot. Pergament was basically a fancy paint store. I'd be willing to bet that no major leaguer since Franco has done an autograph signing at a paint store.

But I went because I had an enlarged Donruss Diamond Kings card that I wanted Franco to sign. I got there and the line was long. Very long. So long that Franco really didn't have the time nor the patience for niceties, it seemed. Franco, to make sure everyone on line got an autograph, just kept his head down and signed everything that was put in front of him. He probably didn't expect the line that he got, so he expedited his process by cutting out the chit chat. Just sign and move on.

Further proof that the band will not be getting back together, Willie Harris has left Flushing for the allure of chili cheese coneys and bad pizza ... and a much more realistic shot at a division title in Cincinnati where Harris has signed with the Reds on a minor league contract. This could only mean that Harris, who was a defensive wizard everywhere else in his life except Flushing, will see his UZR go up by anywhere from five points to a million, and will scale the left field fair pole to the upper deck to rob some random Met of a game tying home run.

One player the Mets will not replace him with is Cody Ross, as Ross has signed with the Red Sox. The real question is: Why would the Mets be remotely interested in an uppity midget* like Ross? To torture me, that's why. Hey, it's a more logical explanation than anything you can come up with ... so there. But the Mets not signing Ross or any other back-up quality outfielder means that even with Marco Scutaro going to the Rockies effectively taking care of the Rockies' infielder needs, a trade involving Justin Turner for a fifth outfielder could still be a possibility down the road. But even though Turner might still be nervous (or excited to get off this sinking ship, who knows), I'm certainly not nervous at all. Because Ross will be somewhere else and I won't have to go through the difficult decision to give him hearty cheers, golf claps, or throw fruit at him**. Now I can just opt for fruit.

*Cody prefers to be called "vertically challenged".

**Throwing fruit is not condoned by this website.

The sentiments about Gary Carter that I wrote here still stand ... even in the face of the latest awful news for Gary and the Carter family.

Conversations on twitter today centered around whether this bad news should have the Mets renewing thoughts about retiring his number. If the Mets weren't thinking of retiring his number before, they shouldn't do it now just because he's in poor health. If it was announced tomorrow that 8 was going on the wall, I'm sure a lot of people in the media would wonder about the motivation, and why the Mets waited so long. My only wonder is why the Mets didn't retire 8 when they had Gary Carter Night in 2003 ... months after he was voted into baseball's Hall of Fame. The Mets obviously have been thinking about it, they took it out of circulation after the impending induction. If the Mets took that step, why didn't they just retire the number?

Willie Mays' 24 has been out of circulation since 1979 (when he last wore it as a coach), save for Rickey Henderson and for some reason Kelvin Torve. Obviously to the Mets, this is the same situation. Two hall of famers who made most of their bones with other teams, but didn't do enough to have their Met number on the wall. But wouldn't you say that Carter's Mets career was more meaningful to the Mets than the year and a half that Mays spent here? Maybe the Mets feel that if Carter makes the wall then Hernandez and Strawberry should then follow and that would be too many "nights" to organize?

I'm not one for looking at numbers solely to decide whether a guy's number should be retired. Sure, it's a big part. But if it was only that, Carter would fall short. He really only had two good seasons out of five in New York. But retired numbers are for us ... fans. For example, I'm not sure there is a man alive that would look at Adam Graves' numbers with the New York Rangers and say that they're deserving of putting his number 9 up in the rafters at Madison Square Garden. But when Brian Leetch, during his own number retirement announced that Graves' 9 was next, the place erupted. That was good enough for me.

It's about numbers, but it's also about a fan base's relationship with a player. If Howie Rose announced on Opening Day in front of a full house that Carter's number would be retired, you don't think there would be a huge roar from the crowd? He's a hall of famer with a special significance to Mets fans. This isn't Willie Mays, who was on his last legs when he was a Met, or Eddie Murray who had a hall of fame career but is barely remembered as a Met ... by Mets fans. We're talking about Gary Carter. The Mets don't win in 1986 without him, and that's gotta count for something.

You obviously know how I feel. If you feel that his number shouldn't be retired here, I understand that too. It would be a shame though if it was retired posthumously, or as some sort of "make-up call". In the end, however, it really doesn't matter. What matters is that Gary gets well, somehow.

I know being in a division the defending A.L. champions and the team that just got Albert Pujols can drive a team to do drastic things. But this is over the top.

If the Seattle Mariners really wanted to reunite people, they could have tried Loggins and Messina. Or the cast of Cheers. Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt, for crying out loud! But these two? These are the two you want to bring together? The Meatball Twins from Game 7 of the 2006 National League Series of Death? I realize that replacing Michael Pineda after trading him to the Yankees (thanks a lot for that, by the way) is a tough task. But trust me when I tell you that these two okeydokes are not the answer.

Eight days after re-acquiring Aaron Heilman by signing him to a minor league deal, the Mariners shocked the baseball world (okay, me and a few other people) by inviting Oliver Perez to spring training. Signing Heilman is useless enough ... guy hasn't thrown a good pitch since that beauty he threw right before crushing our souls in Game 7 of '06 with that beach ball to Molina. But Ollie? I wouldn't invite him to dinner much less my baseball team, and I can't believe there isn't anybody else the Mariners would rather look at rather than waste their time with Oliver. Simply said, I think he turned his baseball career into a disgrace. He had two consistent months in his Mets career, oddly enough they came in a contract drive. Once he got his money he got lazy, disinterested in maintaining his mechanics once he went to the World Baseball Classic that spring, and then he refused a minor league assignment which, while it was his right to do, did the club and himself a disservice. I'm shocked there's a team that actually wanted him. But nothing shocks me anymore. (And don't give me any garbage about how he only gave up one run in six innings in that Game 7 ... Without Endy's catch he gives up three in five and two-thirds and probably gets pulled before he could even get a quality start.)

I'm just happy that there's another fan base besides the Mets' fan base that is now forced to soothe themselves with the "hey, these guys are low-risk/high reward signings" conversation. Ha! The Mariners would have better luck looking for a reward by finding a leprechaun with a pot of gold as a reward. That's all that conversation is: a way to convince yourself that signing players like these aren't big huge waste of time. I'll go so far as to say that Jamie Moyer will probably win more games with Colorado than the two of these guys combined will in Seattle. Hell, Jamie Moyer will win more games with Colorado than these two guys will with with Tacoma.

So I hope you all see what the Yankees did tonight.

No, screw that. I hope Omar Minaya saw what the Yankees did tonight.

No, screw that too. Because even if Omar learns his lesson, he'll just apply it to another baseball team anyway.

The Yankees traded their top prospect and next in line for a Yankee-o-graphy, Jesus Montero, for Mariners flame thrower Michael Pineda. Pineda (along with Hiroki Kuroda, who the Yankees also signed) helps flesh out a suspect rotation. This came at the price of Montero, who came up to New York surrounded by whispers of his catching ability and his ceiling which some had said he has already reached and then went on a hot streak which drove his price up. They turned 18 games and 69 plate appearances into a potential ace. While it's no sure thing (Pineda himself only has a year in the bigs, and he comes to a hitters park to put it very mildly), the Yankees turned their top prospect into, at the very worst, another top prospect.

Whether the trade works out or not (and nothing is a sure thing), the Yankees sold high, and received value. Can't ask for more than that. It's certainly a lot better than turning Lastings Milledge into Ryan Church and Brian Schneider, then turning Church into Jeff Francoeur, then Francoeur into Joaquin "True Met" Arias for a month.

And it's certainly better than turning Scott Kazmir into Victor Zambrano. (And before you respond with "BUT KAZMIRE SUCKS AND IS OUT OF BASEBALL!!!!111", the point is that Kazmir was the top Mets prospect when he was traded for Zambrano. Not another top prospect, not a star player in his prime, but Victor Zambrano. I will not explain this again.)

See where I'm going? Now do you all see what I've been saying since I was five years old? (Okay, thirty-five.)

Epilogue: The Yankees, now needing a DH, sign Prince Fielder, and they only pay Fielder in corn because Fielder is a "vegetarian". But Fielder will then plant those corn to grow a whole corn field, a field of dreams if you will, where prospects will appear out of nowhere to come play for the Yankees. The Padres, under Omar Minaya's enhanced leadership, will be N.L. West champs within five years.

Matt Harvey will debut for the Mets in September 2013, and set the baseball world on fire. He'll then be traded for Jack Wilson that November.

We all thought that this would be the big retirement party for Bud Selig. He'd go around the league and get gifts like rocking chairs and cruises and pen and paper sets to write his memoirs at Wisconsin about the 1994 strike, the 2002 All-Star Game, and the exact fertility drug that Manny Ramirez was using. But the owners have offered him a contract for an extra two seasons, and Selig accepted.

Selig is like the Thing That Wouldn't Leave, always threatening to retire and never doing it. $20 million a season in salary will make a guy change his mind, even one as old as Selig. But it seems to me that Bud is forever concerned about legacy, creating the World Baseball Classic for no real good reason except so that people can talk about him 50 years from now when they ask "who started this thing?"

I thought maybe, and I started to write as such in this space last night, that Bud had a final chance to cement a lasting legacy over the next two seasons. Think about it: The current CBA lasts until 2016, so there's no reason to stick around an extra two seasons to negotiate a deal. The extra playoff team he wanted is already a lock to be in place, so he's really not needed for that. So what else was Selig kept around to do? Retire another number? Award home field for the World Series to whoever wins the Home Run Derby or the World Baseball Classic, or some other arbitrary nonsense? The one final act that would have made Selig a hero to baseball fans would be to forget about friendships, and force Fred and Jeff Wilpon to get out of the baseball business and help restore a strong National League presence in the country's biggest market. And yes I say baseball fans and not just Mets fans. Because let's face it, if you're in Philadelphia, Los Angeles, Chicago, or any other N.L. city, your baseball experience is enhanced when you're hating the team in New York rather than just lobbing scuds at them and pitying them. You know it, I know it.

Selig could have used the extra two seasons to make sure that happens. However, it doesn't look like it's going to come to fruition:

"He’s everything you’d want in a local owner." -Bud Selig on Fred Wilpon

Sure, everything I want. Massive debt, forcing a shoestring budget, and being tone deaf. That's everything on my checklist.

Selig's extension was voted up by a 29-1 margin. Jon Heyman reports that it would have been 30-0 if Padres owner John Moores wasn't so pissed off. I'd guess that it would have been 31-0 if the Mets were allowed to vote twice. ("Ooh, ooh, daddy, can I vote for Uncle Bud too?") Because now this allows the Wilpons to burn at their own pace without any lighter fluid from the commissioner's office. That's unless Selig's endorsement of the Wilpons was the same type of endorsement the Jets gave Brian Schottenheimer before he, umm ... "quit". I can't see that happening. So we're back to the slow, painful death we all feared. And we're now familiar with the fact that this new contract for Selig through 2014 isn't a contract at all ... it's a glorified severance package. Maybe by 2014 Selig can announced that he's really retired for real this time ... but only in Venezuela. (Brett Favre must have read that and said "oh this guy's good".)

You know, everybody is making a big deal about Tim Tebow throwing for 316 yards for the Broncos in their playoff game against the Steelers, and how this is more than mere coincidence. Well, consider the following:

In 2003, Vance Wilson's OPS? .666

In 1992, Howard Johnson's OPS? .666

In 1978, the entire Mets team's OPS? .666

This could only mean that Wilson, Johnson, and the entire 1978 Mets roster were sent by Satan to cause havoc on Earth. And cause havoc they did ... at least in Flushing. Those three teams ... 2003, 1992, and 1978 ... had a combined record of 204-281 (along with 66 wins in two of those seasons). This may very well mean that Satan needs to find better minions. But if you still think this is all mere "coincidence", consider that in games that he played in for the Mets, Angel Pagan ... that's Pagan ... had a record of 181-212. Now, add 204 wins, 281 losses, and 181 wins. Go ahead, I'll wait.

So in conclusion: Jesus is a Broncos fan, the Mets are the official team of Satan, and I have too much f***ing time on my hands. But I'll bet you'll never get statistical analysis quite like that from Tim Kurkjian.

(Editor's note: In 2008, Vance Wilson was kind enough to sign an autograph and take a picture with me. At no time during this process did he grow horns, torture souls, eat babies, set anything on fire, or try to take over Earth in the name of Satan.)

So in about six years, when Fernando Martinez is hitting big home runs in the World Series for the Kansas City Royals, here's a tip: Before you do what I did, and mock the general manager who let him go for nothing on Twitter because it's "typical Mets" (See Cruz, Nelson), remember that the Mets waived Martinez because he's the only 23-year-old in captivity with arthritic knees.

And remember the lesson learned: Prospects are just that, prospects. They are not demi-gods who deserve to have statues built for them after the age of 16. Nobody is a top prospect at the age of 16. And if he was, then certainly he would not be a Met ... he'd be a Washington National with Stephen Strasburg and Bryce Harper. The guy was untouchable during a time when the Mets were close enough to the promised land that they could have used him for that one player they needed. But instead, the Mets had him in the Hall of Fame already and made him, and his Charleston Chew hamstrings untouchable. And now, the swing that reminded Ralph Kiner of Ted Williams is on waivers, for anyone to have.

I applaud our management (and our fan base) for not comparing Zack Wheeler, Matt Harvey, and Jeurys Familia to Seaver, Koosman, and Ryan. Pumping their tires to that extent would only help if they were ready to deal them for major league help, and that's not happening. Omar Minaya pumped this kid's tires so hard they could have gotten Manny Ramirez and his fertility drugs for him. But that didn't happen. Now, the Dominican DiPietro is on waivers. Come get him, major league baseball.