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As delivered on Wednesday night, and transcribed by level-headed Matt Artus of the Ledger Met fan blog. Pretty ball-sy.
Following is the transcript of Mr. Met's State of the Mets' Union address, delivered Jan. 27, 2010, as released by the New York Mets:Mister Wilpon, Chief Operation Officer Wilpon, members of the front office, distinguished guests, and fellow Metsopotamians:
A stipulation from the negotiated terms of the charter granting a National League team to New York, the team mascot shall give to the front office information about the state of our union. Since the team's inception in 1962, the heartwarming characters representing all that is right and good about Mets baseball accepted this responsibility. They fulfilled this mandate despite the dark days of the Amazin' Mets, the late '70s, the Worst Team Money Can Buy, and the Collapse as well as the postseason triumphs and World Series trophies.
These troubled times we live in leaves our beloved Mets in a fragile state. No amount of duct tape and Krazy Glue can reassure the Shea Faithful and Citi Folk that 2009 was an aberration, or that our darkest days reside behind us. No clever press conferences or questionable trades for fourth outfielders can rebuild the confidence that an ex-Brave stole from us with one of the worst pitching performances I or anyone else has ever seen on the final day of the 2007 season. No statistical evidence or rational statements will convince us that our lineup is actually pretty good, or that skipping out on every available free agent pitcher is wise.
In 1963, I accepted the role of Mets' team mascot with the understanding that I would need to distract the fans from the abysmal product on the field from time to time. I did so with the expectation that I'd be allowed to hurl t-shirts into the stands during a World Series game at a rate better than once every 15 years. I have a lot of t-shirts. I would like to dispose of them.
Things are bad. Like really bad. Like awful. Like "I cannot explain how the Mets are being outbid by teams like Oakland or San Diego" terrible. Like "We're being outbid by such paltry sums, too!" harsh. Like "I've completely accepted the lousy contract you gave to Oliver Perez, but could you stop kidding yourself that praying for Pelfrey or Maine to step up will erase the offseason expectation that you could sign ONE starter worthy of a rotation spot above the number 5 just so that the Mets could have a little depth, which would imply you actually learned something from all the injuries we endured in 2009" distressing.
Our lineup should carry us. Legendary singer-songwriter Joni Mitchell once claimed that "It always seemed to go that you don't know what you got till it's gone." I assure you that the fans still aren't clear on what we Mets have at our disposal. We forgot that Jose Reyes can be a dynamic presence at the top of our lineup due to his premature display of happiness before the team clinched its Collapse in 2007. We ignore that Beltran's actually a pretty good hitter and fielder when he actually plays and despite his balky knee, largely because of his inability to swing at Adam Wainwright. We're never really going to truly like David Wright until the Mets win a World Series, because his role as face of the franchise will always exalt his status farther than it should and because he won't magically morph into the team captain that the media insists he should be whenever it's a slow news day.
Front office, I implore you to declare WAR on your player evaluation system and start practicing common sense in team decisions. You can't win with the Metsopotamians with player contracts; they'll always think you paid too much or didn't bid high enough. You must demonstrate a proactive approach to readjusting the team's direction. You have to know when to hold them, fold them, when to walk away, and when to run. Make baseball decisions as part of a greater strategy rather than as a response to the fans' inability to pay for season tickets because you wouldn't trade for Doc Halladay.
Our collective future is uncertain. We could win. We could lose. We shouldn't forget that each season is independent of the next, and that rebuilding doesn't take 10 years in this modern era of baseball. Together, we can fix this mess. Together, we can believe.
Or, at the very least, we can wait until next year when Joe Mauer and Brandon Webb become available and we can spend all the money we saved this offseason.
Thank you. God bless you. And God bless the New York Mets. |
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