Steven Matz Left Tonight's Game With Finger Discomfort, Which Finally Broke The Brains Of Gary Cohen And Keith Hernandez
Hahahahahahahahaha. All I can do is laugh at this point I literally blogged about how the Mets are a cursed lemon of a franchise this afternoon when Noah Syndergaard went down with an injured finger a few hours ago. Little did I know that ANOTHER Mets starter would go down later in the night with what could be the very same injury. I’ve seen the Mets Two Step a million times, yet it still somehow surprises me whenever it happens. One bad thing happens in the afternoon and we somehow still get blindsided when another bad thing happens at night. Shit, for all I know somebody died on the field while I was writing this blog.
The fact Matz was actually dealing against the Braves of all teams is the cruelest twist in it all too. The guy truly can’t buy a bucket. He came up with the Mets, had that magical start on the bump and with the stick as Grandpa Matz lost his marbles in the stands, and had every Mets fan dreaming of him being the lefty stud of the Four, Five, Three, Whatever The Fuck Many Horsemen. But before long, Matz would get lost in the Mets ether of misery, which is pretty much the Bermuda Triangle for sports franchises.
Don’t take my word for it either. Take Gary Cohen’s word, who has seen wayyyyyyyyy too many Mets disasters in his life as a diehard fan and now the voice of the team.
And poor Keith Hernandez, who has forgotten more about baseball than I will ever know, was at a loss for words.
That’s right a guy that just wrote a book about his life and has spoken to every media entity under the sun about baseball to plug said book was even at a loss of words.
We finally lost Our Boy KFC too.
I think Frank The Tank cuncelled when the Mets were like 8 games above .500.
As for me…
I know this is stupid. I should just give up and start getting excited for football season. But I couldn’t even do that since Saquon’s thicc beautiful ass was tossing out a first pitch at the Evil Empire’s home tonight.
But I’m not fucking leaving cuncelling. Not yet. The Assman is my guy. I’m riding and dying with him until the Mets trade him for cash considerations in July. But until then, I’ll be cheering on this team whether it’s Jacob deGrom watching the bullpen blow another one of his wins, Jason Vargas allowing us to catch up on our DVR by making sure the game is out of reach by 7:45 pm ET, or whatever member of the 2012 All-Star team Sandy signs next. Plus we have Brandon Nimmo smiling his way on base, Michael Conforto dropping Mama Bombs on us, and God knows whatever the Mets may pull to build us up before they inevitably tear us down again. It’s still too early to do fantasy football research and I am going to have plenty of night where I’m awake with the baby with nothing to do but hold my breath and see if the bullpen fucks up my week during a west coast road trip. I can’t drop the C-word right after Memorial Day. I just need the Mets to get me to the 4th of July and I’ll be happy. Is that too much to fucking ask out of a “big market” team? I sure hope not.
#LGM!!!