Fran The Man

.

Guess who just got thrown out of Citi Field trying to use an expired Shea Stadium Press Pass?

"Score it 6 to 3!!!"

.

Mr. Met Kills 6, Injures 7

.

AP- New York Mets mascot Mr. Met went berserk at Citi Field today and began a bloody rampage that killed six fans and critically wounded seven others. He had to be shot to death by stadium security, leaving unanswered questions about what drove him to this explosion of violence.

"This is a real tragedy, for all mascots," spoke Mr. Mets' longtime associate Philly Phanatic. "I know he was going through a brutal divorce but I had no idea he was this despondent." The Phanatic then pantomimed jumping-jacks for the next forty-five minutes.

Investigators trying to reassemble the sequence of events that led to the grisly slayings believe that Mr. Met showed up at Citi Field at his usual time and promptly began throwing baseballs at spectator's heads. When a security guard confronted him Mr. grabbed a 31 oz. maple bat and began bashing in the brains of fans and vendors.

 The game was delayed by the senseless brutality, and Mr's bullet-riddled body had to be air-lifted off the field by a medi-chopper. He is survived by his wife, two plush toys, a bobblehead and a keychain. The team is asking fans to remember Mr. Met in his better days, when he wasn't cracking your children's skulls with a Louisville Slugger. I think Mr. Met would have liked it that way...

Mr. Met

1962-2011

"His head was a baseball for some reason"

.

Did You Ever Notice...

... that Scott Hairston has the skull of a comic-book super-villain?

"Watch out, Radioactive Man!"

.

Luis Castillo: Human Diarrhea

Man or simian beast? One thing's for sure: he's no ballplayer. Not since he came to Queens in 2007. Luis Castillo came in under Omar Minaya's regime, part of Operation: Salsa, and he came here to make obscene money and die on the field and at the plate, occasionally looking sad or remorseful for the cameras after a particularly flagrant fuckup.

Today the new Mets General Manager Sandy Alderson released this crippled troglodyte from his obligation to appear, and rather than eulogize the slob with career statistics let's just do what we're supposed to do when we see diarrhea in the bowl.

 

Flush.

.

Iggy The Gook

Ryota Igarashi. Met fans call him Iggy The Gook. Iggy's a Japanese Deviate. You know this. Look in his eyes and you know that it's true. There was a power failure at the Hello Kitty factory the day Iggy came down the assembly line... He was dropped by Godzilla as a child... God was blinking when the boy was born. But what do we really know about Japanese Deviates?

They love ketchup. Can't get enough. They love the sweet taste of ketchup and carbonated cola beverages. They also enjoy battery-powered AM radios, action calculators and popsicle sticks. And all we know about Iggy is that his most famous Met moment was on May 23, 2o10, when he came in for relief against the New York Yankees. It was the ninth inning and the Mets were up by five, but that didn't stop Iggy from imploding on national television.

You could blame the high-pressure situation, or the fact that this was Iggy's first appearance back from the DL, or maybe the guy just didn't get enough ketchup that morning. Whatever the reason Iggy began to sweat Kung Pow-style as he stepped on the mound, his body trembling, getting the ball and firing it back at catcher Rod Barajas as fast as he possibly could. He couldn't find the plate, could barely control his bladder. He walked Nick Swisher, threw wild pitches, and gave up hits to Francisco Cervelli and Juan Miranda. All three would score, all charged to Iggy as he was led off the mound in tears.

Iggy The Gook is a Japanese Deviate. He'll implode again... it's just a matter of time...

Somebody get this guy a drink.

.

Dinky Being Dinky

Some folks call him Peter Pan, the boy that will never grow up to be a man. Others call him The Great Gazoo, but if you got beaned you'd wear that helmet too!

Us Met fans know him as Dinky Wright: great bat, loads of strikeouts, not-quite-clutch, defensively adequate, and so in love with his own face that he can't go more than ten seconds without grinning like a lunatic.


Smile, Dinky!!!

.

Thank You, Omar

Thank you, Omar.

Thank you for the memories.

Thank you for the long-term contracts. Thank you for Oliver Perez. Thank you for Luis Castillo.

Thank you for your press conferences, in which you scuffled, and pureed the English language in a vain attempt to complete a sentence.

Thank you for refusing diversity on the team, stockpiling Latin players in a move so boldy racist it offended blacks, whites, Latins, and every other ethnicity in New York City.

Thank you for Tony Bernazard. Thank you for standing up to the Evil Adam Rubin, who was surely responsible for the collapse of '07, the botched firing of Willie Randolph, the injury-plagued nightmare of 2oo9.

Thank you for showing us that a dyslexic plaintain salesman from Puerto Rico could magically rise up the ranks of the MLB to destroy our favorite team from the inside, like a sun that's gone supernova, imploding in on itself. Thank you for making the Mets the laughingstock of the Major Leagues. Thank you for merengue night. Thank you for Putz. 

Thank you for being fired, and for removing your slimy hide from Queens, so that we fans can all begin the healing: racial, managerial, contractual. Baseball is resilient, and the Mets will surely recover from your reign.

Thank you for single-handedly trying to destroy the Mets. Thank you for being so inept that you failed at even that. And since international law prevents me from tracking you down and beating you bloody, I'll just have to thank you.

Thank you, Omar.

Omar Minaya

General Manger: 2oo4-2o1o

.