The Mets are a disaster. A week from now we may be talking about how they’re right back in it. That’s the type of squad they are. Mercurial. Mysterious. Mediocre. One interesting thing to note…and, no, I am not saying I’m Nostradamus, but I point to a post from a few weeks ago that referenced why I wasn’t so fired up about the prospects of Beltran’s imminent return and the following excerpt :
…Well, package the fact that I was never fully “sold” on Beltran the Met with what’s going on with this team and Pagan’s outstanding play, and I’m seriously not too keen on Carlos’s return. Could it bolster the lineup, lift the clubhouse even higher and further ignite a lineup that’s finally looking as dangerous as it can be? Maybe. Maybe I’m just too fatalistic a Mets fan and don’t want any foreign elements thrown into a winning equation that always feels tenuous at best.
It’s not just one reason. There are many. Most of all, Beltran reminds me of the “old Mets.” The Mets that underachieved, lacked fight and appeared not to care a whole lot. I like the idea of keeping that team – and some of its prominent pieces – in the past. The bottom line is that I’m not that fired up about Carlos Beltran’s return. In fact, I don’t think I want it to happen. Somehow it’s going to mess up a good thing. It might be the .306-hitting Angel Pagan. It could be eliminating and mitigating the positives Frenchy brings to the dugout and lineup. It might be an unwelcome hint of this Mets team thinking they’re better than they are. I don’t know what it will be, and I hope I’m wrong. But something tells me the optimal outcome is not the likely one.
Not for nothin…1-6 with Beltran in the lineup. Is he the reason? Obviously not…but maybe there’s just a little something there. In the meantime, in honor of the Mets west coast swing to date!
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About the Author: Cecilio's Scribe is the founder of The Legend of Cecilio Guante and a generally pessimistic fan of the Mets, Jets, Knicks and Rangers. A fine NYC-based gentlemen who hones his marketing skills as his primary trade by day. Husband, chef, father of a newborn and after-hours blogger by night. Proud alum of the mighty Big Red of Cornell. University. Hot sauce devotee. Staunch protester of the continued wussifcation of American sports. Sometimes I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick.