Just goes to prove that if one thing isn't the problem, it's another.  Great starting pitching?  Hitting and bullpen lets them down.  Five runs off Doc Halladay?  Pitching and defense negates it.  It's what bad teams do, lose by a run when only a third of the process is clicking.

Let my eyes go towards September callups ... and 2011.  Meantime, I'll see if there's enough Advil PM to help me sleep until then.

That the most excited Met fans have been since the All-Star break happens as a result of two AAA players getting scratched right before game time on Friday shows you that this is a fan base waiting for anything to be excited about.

Seriously ... when Fernando Martinez and Ruben Tejada were scratched on Friday, the speculation went anywhere from "Martinez is getting traded" to "Frenchy and Castillo are going to Kansas City" all the way to Seattle, where the Mets were going to take Chone Figgins off the Mariners' hands and swoop in to save New York from certian disaster.

Turns out, it was only Jesus Feliciano going down, and Alex Cora being released.  It means that people can laugh in the clubhouse while still showing respect.

It means a couple of other things too ...

Well, tonight you saw the difference between an organization that fights and an organization that makes excuses.  One team goes out and gets Mike Sweeney.  The other team clicks their heels three times, crosses their fingers and prays for divine intervention.  There's one problem with that:

God is sitting on his golden throne wearing his Yankee hat that Bob Sheppard hand wove for him, and is laughing at that team.

Nobody in Philadelphia is worried about what's going to happen to Mike Sweeney, who got two hits in the eighth inning off a Mets bullpen who is increasingly looking like enemy spies every day, when Ryan Howard gets back.  Nobody in Philadelphia panics about losing Howard, Chase Utley, and Shane Victorino.  They overcome.  They work.  They don't make excuses.

The Mets?  They're too busy forcasting the weather.

But when they're not doing that, they're busy making Joe Blanton look like he's an actual major league pitcher.  As you know by his numbers, he's not.  But that doesn't stop the New York Mets from being their charitable selves until the ninth which was basically window dressing (that and a nice story for Mike Hessman to tell his grand kids).  Two hits off Joe Blanton in that ballpark, to put it mildly, is a bleepin' disgrace.

A disgrace.

And now we're supposed to believe that Fernando Martinez and Ruben Tejada are coming back up to the club because they were late scratches in Buffalo?  What, there's a trade in the works?

Yeah, good idea being cryptic.  Better than coming out and saying "we're not going to sit back", and then get out your lounge chairs for a good view of the Titanic sinking for the fifth straight season.  I like to be kissed first before I get ... well, you know the rest.  So I'll believe it when I see it.  Before then, I'll start handing out life preservers and violins.

"I wish I had a reality show.  Then you could see how hard I’m working." -Oliver Perez

Maybe Snoop Manuel isn't in a hurry to get him back on the baseball field, but television executives are now scrambling to capitalize on Perez's latest wish: to have his own reality television show.  Luckily, there are many reality T.V. formats that Oliver can slide right into, since there are so many variations on old ideas.  Here, the crack staff has come up with a few:

Oliver Perez: My Life On The D.L.:

When cameras follow Perez during his stints on the disabled list attending Magic games and eating chicken wings at the Anchor Bar in Buffalo, the hilarity ensues.  The best part of selling this show is that there's already enough material for six seasons.

Fire Me, Please:

In this adapation of an adaptation of a British show, Perez tries to get the Mets to release him from his contract by giving up tape-measure bombs, tweaking his knee, and refusing minor league assignments. If he can do it, he wins $25,000.  This also has the potential to last for multiple seasons, but hopefully not more than two.  Anna Benson makes an appearance as "Mrs. Perez."

The Biggest Loser:

This could be fun.  First, Oliver gets sent to the World Baseball Classic, where he gains twenty pounds eating Five Guys burgers and shakes.  Then, he fulfills weekly challenges like jumping over the foul line and planting seeds in the bullpen in a race against time to lose the excess weight by Opening Day.  Hosted by Ted Higuera, with special appearances by Butch Huskey as Perez's trainer.

Bachelorettes In Alaska:

Oliver Perez is in Alaska to ... well the rest doesn't really matter because Oliver Perez is in Alaska.  What Met fan doesn't want to see that?  Ratings bonanza.

Oliver Vs:

Perez, like Shaquille O'Neal. tries his hand at other sports, and challenges the best in the world at sports like ... bowling.  And fishing.  And in a very poignant moment, the checkers episode where he tweaks his knee.

I Survived A Japanese Baseball League:

Perez is traded to Japan as he attempts to learn to pitch while learning a whole new culture.  The twist is that every time Perez fails to register a quality start, he's forced to dress as a baby and fill cups of milk after spinning himself dizzy.  Because that happens in the Japanese league, right?

Our worst fear is realized.  Snoop Manuel's sense of humor has seeped into Fred Wilpon's brain:

"As Wilpon walked away, a Post reporter asked if Minaya would remain the team’s GM beyond this year. 'Is the sun going to come up tomorrow?' Wilpon answered."

Oooh, zinger.  But no.  It will not.  Not when teams in bankruptcy acquire Cliff Lee and teams that can't draw flies eat Jose Guillen's salary, while the Mets are taking payroll advice from Coupon Suzy in their employment of Minaya, and Oliver Perez for that matter.  The sun isn't coming out tomorrow, the next day, or any other day.  Met fans are orphanizing themselves in record numbers while Fred Wilpon plays the role of Daddy Warbucks (Keanu Reeves wasn't available).

"I don't understand what he's saying ... I've been around the game for 25 years, I don't know what that means."-Ron Darling, on Snoop's brilliant post game idea of choosing when to pitch Mike Pelfrey based on favorable matchups.

I really didn't want to have to focus on one thing tonight.  Because really, everything went wrong.  Horribly wrong.  Little Pelf was little again.  His defense didn't help him out (here's how you know things are bad: When a ground ball goes to David Wright for the sure double play and you think "here comes the error", and it actually happens), and his manager didn't know when to take him out.

Here's what was wrong with the fact that Pelfrey was left in to face Brian McCann in the fifth inning with runners on first and third and the lefty Takahashi warm in the pen: If you hammer the point home that this is a huge series which Snoop did in a pregame interview on Monday, you have to manage like it.  Leaving your starting pitcher, who is obviously struggling, against not just a left handed batter, but one who's been killing the Mets all series, is not consistent with the thought process that was laid out at the beginning of the series.  That's why you take Pelfrey out at that point.  It wasn't about "well let's see if he can get out of it" or "let's see what he's got".  You know what he has: NOTHING!  He had to go.  But once again, Snoop shows exactly what he showed last year: that he manages during the season as if it's the spring, and for the meaningless ballgames sure to come in September, then he'll start managing to win.

More infuriating was seeing Snoop take out Little Pelf two batters later, making it even more obvious that he totally mismanaged the inning.  It's like turning the hose on the earth when it's already scorched.

But the above quote from Darling put the entire night into perspective.  When Ron Darling, the mild mannered announcer, the Paula Abdul of the group if you will, comes on the post game show and says "I don't know what he's talking about", there's a big problem. And it isn't the first time the manager has made no sense or grasped at straws.  Towards the end of last season, when ownership decided to retain both Snoop and Omar Minaya, they basically absolved them of all blame, and sold to their fans that it was all the injuries.  And I remember thinking "you know, Jeffy had better be right."  As I sit here tonight, it couldn't be more apparent that he was wrong. Dead wrong.  One more year completely wasted because ownership didn't have the foresight to realize that change, significant change ... not trading Mike Jacobs for a player to be named later, was absolutely necessary.  And because of that, 2010 is as wasted as 2009 turned out to be.

The only hope for the future lies in Mark Cuban deciding to bowl over the Wilpons with an offer they can't refuse (now that the whole Rangers thing has fallen through.

Monday: Jeff Francoeur thinks he needs to go on "medicine".

Tuesday: Frenchy hits a ninth inning home run off Country Time to beat his former Atlanta Brave teammates.

So it goes to figure that ...

Wednesday: Major League Baseball asks Jeff Francoeur to pee in a cup.

Makes logical sense to me.  A + B = Pee.

There was a time where Manny Acosta would be the winner of a ballgame, and Billy Wagner would be the loser thanks to a Jeff Francoeur home run in Atlanta, and I'd be looking for some rope to hang myself with. Thankfully, all that happened and instead it equaled the biggest Met win of the year. It must have been Bizarro World ... or a hot tub time machine.  Or ...

"With all due respect General Grant, you can't burn down Atlanta with a match!" -William Tecumseh Sherman*

And yet, the Mets keep trying to disprove a centuries old fact.  It'll never happen ... not when in a game that kicks off the biggest series of the year, the team looked as flat as they ever have.  Between Luis Castillo not being able to turn a double play, Matt Diaz taking extra bases, and the team as a whole sitting in a dark dugout looking like their favorite television show just got cancelled, the Mets have taken inexcusable to a whole new level.

They knew it.  They all knew it.  And this is what they come up with?  A complete waste of three hours of all of our lives?  Is this what it's come to?  If so, just let me know so I can DVR Shark Week and watch that for six weeks before Jets season starts.

Somebody tweeted back in May or June ... and I wish I could find it ... that the Mets playing crisp baseball with better fundamentals (fundies, for you kids at home) can be attributed to Snoop Manuel.  Well who to you blame Monday night on?  Who do you blame the last 24 games on where the Mets are 7-17?  Or the last 39 at 14-25?  Or 1-5 against Ari-f***ing-zona?  Who?  How can this team not be ready to play?  This team is dying a slow death that Bill Cosby can't even refute.

It's probably equal parts talent and effort (lack of both).  In which case, everybody is to blame from ownership on down.  Everybody.  Gimme that match ... I know what to burn.

*Sherman never said this.

The trick is to find the silver lining in things.

Sunday's silver lining was that Oliver Perez pitched.

It's hard to find diamonds in the rough that is a 14-1 loss, especially one where they couldn't hit a pitcher entering his tenth major league game.  Tougher still if you don't count the diamond that was the pre-game ceremony inducting Frank Cashen, Davey Johnson, Darryl Strawberry and Doc Gooden into the Mets Hall of Fame (which was awesome).  But the diamond in this rough was the appearance of Oliver Perez, who looks more and more like the devil character from Joker's Wild.  Not the result of his appearance mind you, which was terrible, but just the fact that he was on the mound not only made me smile, but came as a breath of fresh air.

You see, there was a "suggestion", and I'm not sure where it came from, that Snoop wouldn't use Oliver Perez at Citi Field ... presumably to keep him away from the booing that would surely take place if he were to darken the foot of the mound with his selfish shadow.  And to that I say simply: screw that.  Preferably, with a splintered bat.  Perez is making a ton of money to give up runs and refuse minor league assignments.  The fact that he hasn't been released yet is a slap in the collective faces of Met fans.  But for Mets types to even suggest that Oliver stay away from the Citi Field faithful and not have to, perish the thought, hear boos at the expense of gassing the bullpen is not only irresponsible to the team, but unfair to the fans.  Met fans have gotten the short end of the stick a whole bunch the last few years.  The least they can get in return is to have an opportunity to let Perez hear it.

I for one am tired of the coddling of Perez that has existed since he got here.  It's the same kind of coddling that exists with the Mets teams of this decade, that cringe at the very notion of somebody from the past laying into them for one reason or another, whether it be Keith Hernandez in '02 with the "they quit" line (hint: they did), or the complaints about Strawberry giving some of the current players a challenge to be better (hint: they're not).  So it's no surprise to see this team die on a day when people who gave a damn were honored.  But heaven forbid you tell them they died or they'll get all "sensitive".  And heaven forbid Oliver Perez hears boos.

The irony is that we were all worried about 24-and-1 when it came to A-Rod, but Perez has created a 1-and-24 of a different sort.  How has Oliver repaid the Mets for all the protection he's gotten?  Bad pitching and refusing minor league assignments forcing the Mets to invent injuries, that's how.  So good for Snoop Manuel to put Perez in the game in blowout time to save the rest of the bullpen.  I'm actually surprised we didn't see Frankie getting work in.

Of course, Snoop undid that good by warming up Raul Valdes for no good reason during the ninth inning.  What, Perez was going to be taken out of a 14-1 loss?

You may not think Omar Minaya was active at the trade deadline, but do you really know how much effort it takes to wave the cabana boy over to order a vodka and pineapple juice with one hand, while calling Alex Anthopoulos on the cell phone to trade away your opening day cleanup hitter for a player to be named later with the other?

Oh, but there's more.