All right, so it's damn near close to 4AM and I really should get some sleep. But then we find these gems from Fred Wilpon:
On Jose Reyes, the often-injured shortstop with an expiring contract: "He thinks he’s going to get Carl Crawford money. He’s had everything wrong with him. He won’t get it."
On David Wright, the centerpiece third baseman: "A really good kid. A very good player. Not a superstar."
On Carlos Beltran, who starred for Houston in the 2004 playoffs before signing a seven-year, $119 million deal with the Mets: "We had some dummy in New York, Wilpon says, referring to himself, “who paid him based on that one series. He’s 65 to 70 percent of what he was."
Wow. Just ... wow. I'm not really sharp enough to come up with something witty about Fred Wilpon right now, who went on to mock Carlos' check swing against Adam Wainwright in his night of debauchery with Jeff Toobin of The New Yorker (and by debauchery, I mean that they watched a Mets game together.) But forget the George Steinbrenner comparison ... when did Fred Wilpon become Rachel Phelps? It's like he wants attendance to fall so he can move to Cleveland ... or Brooklyn.
Anybody else doubt Beltran's decision to think for himself, stop worrying about what ownership thinks and get surgery now? This is what his owner thinks of him? And this is the thanks David Wright gets for offering to be there for them? He gets brutal honesty? This is the family atmosphere that Tom Glavine once bragged about? The Gosselins had less dysfunction. And if you were starting to get a little optimistic about Jose Reyes sticking around for a while? You better damn well start saying your good-byes now.
Boy oh boy I can't wait for the spin from the Legion of Doom Mets headquarters on this one. And I can't wait until Wilpon goes all John Rocker on Jeff Toobin.