When events in our lives fall on certain dates, some might say it's fitting. For me, it is somehow fitting that the first competitive game of the 2013 season, the season of the missing outfield, fell on the day where the former outfielder making more money than all of them this season turns 50 years old. Michael Jordan got seven days of celebration from ESPN in advance of his 50th birthday. Bonilla? Seven days of new revelations about his contract, which aren't new at all but enough people are finding this out for the first time, which gives everybody an excuse to laugh all over again. (Just don't expect him to make a grand comeback to help the Mets' outfield situation, as it looks from the picture that he has turned to catching.)

All this while the other former Mets outfielder making more money than all the current outfielders this season has proclaimed that he has "re-found his swing". (And by "swing", he means "spring training fastballs" is what he found.)

But thankfully, nobody got into an argument with a television news anchor after the game, none of the players put cotton in their ears to drown out the crowd booing them, and nobody argued with an official scorer to change an error to a hit (not even Andrew Brown), as the Mets kicked off spring training the same way most other teams did, with hope and promise of a new day. The Mets' version of hope and promise came in the form of two innings from Zack Wheeler, who unlike starters Shaun Marcum and Stephen Strasburg who were merely getting warmed up and working on things while giving up wind blown bombs, Wheeler embarked on a journey to break camp with the major leaguers and needed to bring a good part of his arsenal to do it. He started the third inning by overthrowing and not being able to find the strike zone, but he threw 19 of his last 25 for strikes, and got out of the third with two strikeouts with a runner on third base. Warm? Tingly? Wheeler's two innings were exactly that.

The play that pumped me up in the Mets' 5-3 win, in this season of no outfielders, was one of the no outfielders making a play with his legs as Collin Cowgill scored from second base on an error by Micah Owings as the Nationals fell asleep a little bit. Maybe I overreacted a bit by yelling, clapping my hands and giving a little fist pump over an insurance run in a the sixth inning of a spring training game. But first off, there was an underlying celebration of actual baseball games being back in our lives for the next seven months. Baseball has a way of giving us surprises, like Jordany Valdespin driving in a run today in an at-bat that actually took the length of time needed for me to go downstairs to pick up my lunch. But spring training games also offer the familiar. The crack of the bat, the smell of freshly cut grass, the umpires yelling "play ball", Keith Hernandez making obscure Charlie Weaver references, and Lucas Duda looking at fastballs down the middle while swinging at slop three feet outside. Like the Florida palm trees, the familiar storylines of baseball are reborn once again. Reason enough to clap and pump your fist. (Well, for everything except the Duda part.)

Second, there was a not so underlying celebration of the fact that while Collin Cowgill might not be the most awe inspiring free agent pick-up in the world, he's not 42 years old and he has the use of all his limbs ... something you couldn't always say about a middle of the road Mets acquisition. I grant you that I thought Andres Torres would be halfway decent too, and his calf exploded on Opening Day. So what the hell do I know? Maybe I was merely celebrating the fact that Cowgill made a play with his legs and didn't come up lame.

So happy baseball day kids. And happy belated birthday, Bobby Bo.

We're only scant days away from actual games involving the New York Mets. Thank heaven and hell for that. You might have figured out that I've been focused on the banality of spring training relatively recently. The worst time to put Mets happenings into meaningful context is spring training, and the worst time within that time is the space between the moment the team reports (which for a Terry Collins team is Christmas), and the first game. You can analyze games. You can analyze off-season moves or non-moves. Trying to analyze anything during the days where the team is doing nothing except stretching and bunting drills and making it seem somewhat meaningful is like herding cats in the Citi Field parking lot.

A lot of people get mad at the beat writers for writing pretty much the same stories during the middle of February. But I feel bad for them. First off, usually during the early spring the Mets will bring out a player to talk to the media, and if it's Matt Harvey, everybody writes a Matt Harvey story. And so on, and so forth. And it isn't like the writers can break away and go rogue, either. We live in a world where if everybody is covering the same story and you don't, you're left behind.

And when someone does try to go off the grid to report on something different, this is what we get:

More than one person suggested today that David Wright's hairline might be receding ever so slightly. So I asked Wright ...

— Adam Rubin (@AdamRubinESPN) February 18, 2013

Said Wright: "No, it's not [receding]. That's one thing my family is blessed with -- a full head of hair." ... Now you know.

— Adam Rubin (@AdamRubinESPN) February 18, 2013

I see things like that and I briefly think to myself that the asteroid should have rammed straight into earth while it had the chance. But part of not being a total psychopath is having empathy in situations like these. When I read tweets like those, I have plenty of empathy for the beat guys ... especially when the Wilpons get involved, because you know that Freddy and the crown prince feel like they need to be heard. Consider the day that elder Wilpon did his annual media tour recently, and told reporters that his financial troubles were over because, in part, the real estate market was "zimmo". Because Wilpon ... after years of mismanaging this franchise towards a BB credit rating ... can't find enough decency to give answers with real words to reporters, you had not one, but two beat guys scrambling to do research and find experts to find a definition of the word to figure out what the hell he's talking about. A word, mind you, that doesn't exist.

And while some might give Wilpon the benefit of the doubt and put "zimmo" in the class of sniglets from the 80's cable show "Not Necessarily The News", keep in mind that sniglets were words that described objects that needed describing. Like "sperrets", the creases in your face after a great nap, or "porkus non grata", the lone piece of bacon in the package that isn't straight. Sniglets were brilliant. The only purpose of "zimmo" is to waste the time of the beat guys to try to define it ... and waste my time when I spell check this post.

But is it any surprise that ridiculousness reigns when the Wilpons are involved, whether it's proclaiming that your financial woes are over after almost everybody has been signed (like calling somebody when you know they're not home when you don't want to speak to them), yet can't even sign Jose Valverde unless they can get him for free. Or calling David Wright your version of Jeter just months after he called Wright "not a superstar". Or when Jeffy continues to awkwardly talk smack to players like he's a part of the team when the Chief Operating Officer couldn't operate an Office Depot much less a baseball franchise.

The Mets play the Nationals on Saturday. And not a moment too soon. Because when the biggest development to come out of the first two weeks of spring is that Jenrry Mejia's name is actually Jenrry Mejia, it's time for games to start.

Collins on Duda. “Outside of Stanton, (Duda) is the biggest, strongest guy in the majors. He can be a big-time run producer.”

— New York Mets (@Mets) February 12, 2013

True story: When I was a young baseball fan I asked my father: "Dad, if it takes strength to hit home runs, why doesn't Lou Ferrigno play baseball?" So when somebody tells you that a guy is second behind Giancarlo Stanton in size and strength (which is a shrewd troll move by Terry Collins which only serves to make the fan base salivate unnecessarily), remember that Lou Ferrigno couldn't play baseball.

But look, I'm giving up complaining about Lucas Duda for lent. And I actually have a notion that while he isn't going to be the player that Terry Collins unintentionally misled the fan base that he would be, I think he'll improve just enough to not annoy me to the point of where I'm itching all the time up and down my back in spots where I can't reach ... the spots where the only way to get relief is to rub my back on a subway pole and have people look at me like I'm a feral cat.

In short, I think that Lucas Duda might hit a double every once in a while this season.

The Mets have been the very definition of a team that depends on "if everything goes right". If you've learned nothing else out of life, you've learned that not everything goes right. The Mets have certainly learned that in their recent history, and it only took until 2013 for the first thing to go wrong, as their relief pitcher who moonlights as a closer, Frank Francisco, is at zero percent because his throwing elbow has inflammation.

Only question is, what exactly went wrong? Is it that Frantsisk is hurt? Or is it that Terry Collins has already named Bobby Parnell his replacement?

Collins: "I'm not panicking, but you've got to get somebody ready, and Bobby to me is that guy."

— Mike Puma (@NYPost_Mets) February 12, 2013

Oh, no. He's not panicking at all. That's why with all the options in the bullpen he's already named a closer on the second day of spring training. With the lack of confidence shown to Frantsisk so far (not that he's given anybody any reason), this seems like the perfect opportunity to shove Francisco past the margins of the big picture. Imagine this conversation a couple of weeks from now: "Hey coach, I'm ready." "No Frankie, we're good."  Not that I think this conversation will ever happen. I'd be comfortable saying that we're never going to see Frantsisk in a Mets uniform in a real game ever again.

But this shows, if nothing else, that it's a good thing the Mets got all of these 8th inning pitchers to deliver leads to Bobby Parnell so that he can drive us all to drink in the ninth.

You knew it had to end like this. You knew that all the hulabaloo about whether the draft pick was going to be protected or not for Michael Bourn would end with Bourn taking such great lengths to avoid the issue by joining a team who haven't won anything since Dewey supposedly beat Truman. Which is kinda what all the Bourn/Mets rumors seemed like. With all the talk about draft picks, it was almost like it was a done deal that Bourn was coming here. And then Dewey lost, and Bourn went to Cleveland.

Truth be told, they can have him. Sure, the Mets have no outfield. But Michael Bourn, at least by himself, wasn't going to make the difference this year for the Mets. And by the time he would have a chance to make the difference, he might be too old to do it. Besides, it didn't seem too long ago that Bourn had the tag of somebody who was fast as hell but couldn't steal first base. I could never wrap my head around Michael Bourn as slam dunk difference maker ... not one worth 4 years and $48 million, with a vesting option for another $12 million. Sandy Alderson just spent three years trying to get out from under a bunch of horrific contracts. Did anybody really think he was going to take on another one and risk losing this season's first round pick?

And about that pick ... first off, how is it that the archaic organization that is MLB really couldn't give a resolution on a hypothetical scenario such as the one the Mets brought up with that 11th pick pushed back from ten because Mark Appel doesn't want to sign anywhere? They could only do it if the Mets actually signed Bourn and then take another 2-3 weeks to come up with a decision after a grievance was brought up by the union, forcing the Mets to roll the dice on their future and sign Bourn without knowing whether they'd lose the 11th pick or not? Unbelievable. Like I said, that whole ruling should have taken a day. "Hey Mr. Torre, shouldn't the 11th pick be protected if it was pushed back by a compensatory pick?" It's a simple question that should have had a simple answer! But nooooooooooo, we have to have a hearing where we all put on our George Washington wigs and sit at a large wooden table under the light of black table lamps. Nonsense.

And second, there's a notion that now that the Mets lost out on Bourn that this 11th pick had better be Andrew McCutchen. More nonsense. Here's what the 11th pick of the draft has to be: A guy good enough to make it to AAA in without arm problems or a hitch in his swing, so that in three years he can have enough progress to be included in a trade for somebody much better than Bourn. I'd hope that in three years the Mets will have enough money in the bank to be able to acquire such a player. We know that can't happen now, and that's fine. But the time is going to come where that excuse will fly out the window, and that time is coming very soon. I'd rather save some of this money for that time, and not spend $60 million of it on a guy who couldn't steal first base not long ago. The 11th pick of the draft is mere currency, but currency more valuable than another bad contract will be.

If the Mets really want another outfielder, our friend Drew Stubbs has now been rendered kinda sorta available with the Bourn signing. Problem is that he's a center fielder, just like Kirk Nieuwenhuis and Collin Cowgill, and sliding one of them to right field doesn't really make a lot of sense, especially for a guy who while good defensively, hit .213 last season and struck out more than Bourn did last year, and struck out more than 200 times the previous season. Stubbs' only asset is that he's cheap and only has one more season left. So he's a warm body to add to the litany of warm bodies the Mets have in the outfield. So really, why bother? (Except for the fact that any warm body would be an upgrade at this point.)

So it looks like the Mets are stuck with what they have, just like in 2004 when they made a similarly futile attempt at an outfielder, trying to get Vladimir Guerrero on the cheap when his obvious suitors seemingly dried up, only to have the Angels swoop in and sign him to a real contract. Instead, the Mets went into that season with Karim Garcia as their right fielder. The more things change, right? Actually, I wonder if Garcia can be bought out of his contract with the Hermosillo Orange Growers ...

Forget it. No outfield situation can be quite that bad.

Sad news to report as Ruben Tejada reported to spring training on Saturday, nine days before the deadline for position players to report.

This is sad because I now have no reason to complain about useless controversy. First it was Luis Castillo who was chastised for showing up on time (when there were so many real reasons to chastise him), and last year, it was Tejada. But now that's over, and we have nothing left to worry about except whether Ike Davis will find new friends before Opening Day. We'll have to bide our time waiting for a Met to create a controversy ... do something dumb like wait until the minute spring training starts to show up. Or say something stupid to the media about Met fans being stupid ... Shack Shack being terrible ... or Rocky V being underrated.

I'm betting on Francisco.

Ike Davis noted today he needs new friends. Everyone he hung out with is gone -- Bay, Thole, Pelfrey and his personal IT guy, Nickeas. #mets

— Adam Rubin (@AdamRubinESPN) February 8, 2013

First off, I have to laugh because I have a friend who likes to say the exact same thing: "I need new friends." Most of the time, it was a reaction to me doing something stupid. Similarly, Ike needs new friends because the four people he mentioned did stupid things ... like play baseball badly and get themselves traded.

So how long with this be turned into some sort of spring training controversy: "Ike bemoans the loss of four players, while the other twenty are all like 'Umm Ike, we're right here.'" You might think that's silly, but in spring training, anything is a story ... real or perceived. So get ready for six months of this, America.

At least Ike has more time to drink. (Y'know, unless those four were the bad influences like Kevin Mitchell supposedly was. Then the book can be called "The Bad Guys Lost".)

Not to be a party pooper, because I know how some people love drama ... and perhaps some of you who read this nonsense like drama ... but can we figure out if the 11th pick is going to be protected or not already? We're starting to get to that area of this story where I just don't care anymore. It's kinda like that area of time right after the Manti Te'o story was new and bizarre where people were saying "Oh yeah, I met Lennay Kekua", and other people were saying "Yeah, Manti was totally faking." You couldn't get me to care about Lennay Kekua unless she somehow became a real person and was a right-handed hitting outfielder who could bat leadoff. And even then she probably wouldn't sign here.

You have some reports saying that the a ruling may be in favor of the Mets being able to protect the 11th pick so they can sign Michael Bourn. And others saying that the rule isn't going to change. Can we find out what the deal is? It's February 8th. The Super Bowl is over. And Ruben Tejada is already late for spring training. I'm f*cking exhausted. The only thing that could make this worse is this somehow happening during the season, and these "updates" ... instead of reading them for myself on the internet ... are read to me by Chris Carlin in an expanded pre-game show, with a sponsor and everything. Bad enough we had to hear every inane update on Johan Santana's various injuries ranging from how he threw off a mound to how he rolled out of bed in the morning. Can you imagine hearing updates every day on whether the 11th pick in the f*cking major league baseball draft will be protected or not? In a pre-game show that lasts an hour? It'll be like high school. "So I was talking to Sally, and a girl she shares 5th period shop with heard from her cousin that Michael Bourn was going to take the head cheerleader to the prom ... but I could be wrong."

Stop it! Just f*cking stop it!!! Get a ruling, then make the signing. Or not. This process should take a day. At most. But this has to be dragged out to the beginning of spring training for some God forsaken reason. I bet you we'd get a quicker answer from Joe Torre if this had involved first responder hats, wouldn't we. Wouldn't we???

The idea was floated for a new Monopoly token. But nobody in the focus groups liked to play with the Ambiorix Burgos piece. Couldn't get out of jail.

Landed in Florida to news #Mets have signed OF Corey Patterson and Mike Wilson to minor league deals, per BA.

— Adam Rubin (@AdamRubinESPN) February 6, 2013

Those with really, really good memories pointed out that 2 of Patterson's 6 career 2-HR games came vs. Mets. Also 3/31/03, welcoming Glavine

— Adam Rubin (@AdamRubinESPN) February 6, 2013

Oh I remember, Adam. I also remember that that 3/31/03 game was the only major league game I ever left in the sixth inning. Why? Because the Cubs were winning 105-2, it was -49 degrees, and most importantly, there were three assholes in front of us that made the same dopey Mike Piazza/Sam Champion joke at the top of their lungs for three freaking innings. Leaving Shea Stadium was the only way to avoid a Metstradamus murder charge, because these three idiots deserved to die ... and probably still do. I take solace in the knowledge that even though they may not be dead, they're probably dead inside because they're serving lattes and wearing funny hats at a coffee chain to make enough money to be able to rent a rat and mold infested apartment in North Jersey.

So screw you, you asshole frat boys. And by association, screw you Corey Patterson ... because you indirectly caused this with your seven RBI's and your two home runs. You're old. Enjoy Las Vegas. And please try not to run into Matt Den Dekker in the outfield and give him a debilitating injury while you're down there.

And screw you Tom Glavine. You know why.