Write about basketball, preseason basketball. Kind of hard to focus right now. Can do other work today, but writing a struggle. Unable to think coherently.
Had to use my last bit of brain power to remember what coherently means.
The METS are playing a do or die game 7 with a trip to the series on the line.
Back in August I admitted to Lang that anything less than a trip to the series would be a disappointing year for this team. Granted, the injuries to every pitcher that has ever pitched for the Mets (and their starting left fielder too) should have lowered expectations, but still. What a game last night!
John Maine. Like a young Dave Cone before they called him David. The defense, solid. Reyes, the sparkplug. LoDuca, clutch. Shawn Green, so skiny, so overmatched, yet so clutch. Complete sentences, not happening.
And then Billy Wagner tried to flush(ing) the whole season down the toilet.
The moral of the story is that it’s all about the blue hats.
Breathe. A game 7 of baseball with a trip to the series on the line in NYC.
Not ready. Nervous. Scared. Excited. Must go through several layers of superstitious anti-jinxing.
