Maybe the most curmudgeonly column ever written in the New York Post

Hat tip to Can’t Stop the Bleeding for pointing out this Phil Mushnick column lamenting the trend toward body art on NCAA basketball players. Must be a slow day:

According to the Elias Sports Bureau, Division of Self-Mutilation, this NCAA tournament destroyed last year’s record for in-view tattoos as seen permanently burned into the flesh of young student-athletes.

I don’t care what your position is on this pop-cultural “advancement” — whether you recognize that it’s another mainstreamed gift from our prison systems and street gangs — but you’ll admit that it seemed half the starters in this year’s tournament were covered with tattoos. Covered.

From there, Mushnick goes on to spend the next several hundred words just cracking jokes about how difficult it must be for these NCAA basketball players to see the tattoos that cover their own bodies, including several about how the text must appear backwards when they see it in the mirror and so they should consider having it written backwards. Poignant stuff.

I don’t have any tattoos and I’m not planning on ever getting any. Obviously I don’t begrudge anyone the right to ink themselves blue, it’s just way too permanent of a commitment for me.

I did watch a friend endure some pretty serious tattoo regret one time, though. It was heavy stuff, too. I was with him after he got his sixth or seventh tattoo, and I guess he didn’t like it, and he became really regretful and freaked out a bit about the permanence of what he had done to his body.

He got over it, though, and now has two full sleeves. That’s the happy ending.

Finally

I’m busy today, so in lieu of more content, enjoy this series of parody commercials from Mr. Show.

I’m pretty sure these came out in reaction to Hellman’s Dijonnaise, a product that combined mustard and mayonnaise in precisely the way demonstrated above, save the stripes. For a while, I’m pretty sure Dijonnaise was the only mustard you could get a Shea Stadium, which really sucked if you didn’t like mayonnaise.

Incidentally, Boar’s Head Pepperhouse Gourmaise is delicious, and should be excepted from any conversations making fun of mayonnaise/mustard hybrid products.

Season in preview: Starting pitchers

With Opening Day now a week away and with little else to write about, I’m going to attempt to preview the 2010 Mets, position by position, over the next seven days. Or maybe do a few posts like this one and then run out of steam. We’ll see.

I’ll start with starting pitchers, because starting pitchers have “starting” right there in their description, and because pitchers are “1” in the lineup card. I’ll end with relief pitchers, even though they’re also technically No. 1 in the lineup card, because we’ll have a better sense of who they are by then.

The format will be whatever the format is on this post. I’m going to figure it out as I go. That’s jazz, baby.

The starting pitchers in April: Johan Santana, Mike Pelfrey, Oliver Perez, John Maine, Jon Niese.

Overview: Yesterday, during WFAN’s coverage of the Mets’ Grapefruit League game, Wayne Hagin lamented the team’s need for a pitcher like Chris Carpenter, who could do to the N.L. East what Carpenter did to the Central last season.

“HELLO!?” – Herm Edwards.

Now, look: Carpenter went 10-0 against the Central last year, and that’s pretty nuts. But few pitchers in the Major Leagues are as qualified to dominate opposing hitters as the one fronting the Mets’ rotation. Johan Santana, assuming health, is not the problem.

Behind him lay question marks that have dotted just about every Mets season preview before this one: Pelfrey, Perez and Maine.

Color me slightly more bullish than most about the prospects of those three. Pelfrey, as noted earlier this offseason, was more a victim of the defense behind him than the demons inside him in 2009. He has been hit hard this Spring, but he has been throwing more breaking balls — something that should help him stop relying on Luis Castillo’s (complete lack of) range for groundball outs.

I’m mildly concerned that a more varied arsenal could make Big Pelf more vulnerable to injury, but assuming Jose Reyes regains most of the range he had before his hamstring injury, Pelfrey should bounce back from his rough 2009 as more of those groundballs bounce into the gloves of able defenders.

Perez enters the season to about the lowest expectations of anyone ever making seven figures not named Gary Matthews Jr. (or Andruw Jones, or maybe Barry Zito. OK, there are a few, but you get the point). It’s becoming increasingly clear that he’s not Sandy Koufax, no matter what Scott Boras says, but thanks to either a return to health or his conditioning program or new-found focus upon his first wedding anniversary, his velocity appears to be back to its 2008 levels.

If the results follow, the Mets will have a wild and frustrating but ultimately league-average middle-of-the-rotation starter in Perez. It’s annoying, but the Good Ollies and the Bad Ollies balance out and make for Just OK Ollie.

As for Maine? Well, I’m a little concerned about Maine. Not about his couple of shaky Spring Training outings or his talent — he’s got that, I think — so much as his ability to stay healthy. Maine has pitched progressively fewer innings in each season since throwing 191 in 2007, and the vagaries of his “shoulder weakness” last year are at least a bit concerning. I’ve speculated before that Maine might have flourished under Rick Peterson, noted for his expertise in biomechanics, but what do I know?

I know this: Maine’s strikeout rates have plummeted nearly as quickly as his innings totals, which is concerning. That could be a whim of the reasonably small sample of innings he pitched last season, but it could mean whatever Maine was using to fool hitters so effectively in 2007 isn’t doing the trick anymore. The velocity on his fastball has remained static and he has thrown a very similar mix of pitches, only less effectively. It could be the injuries, but it’s troublesome regardless. I’m rooting for the guy, but there are red flags all over the place.

The fifth guy, Jon Niese, I like. This I’ve covered.

The starting pitchers in September: Santana, Pelfrey, Perez, Niese and Nelson Figueroa.

Why’d I put Figueroa there? Just a guess. Trying to pick what will happen in September in March is a fool’s errand, and there’s a reasonable chance Figueroa is not even on the team next week, no less six months from now. Consider his name on that list as a stand-in for whatever fifth starter/long-man/fill-in guy they settle on when one of their starters gets injured or proves ineffective, assuming Jenrry Mejia has either hit his innings limit or been made a reliever.

I’m guessing Maine will be the starter that doesn’t last the year based on the red flags listed above. Pelfrey has been a horse for the last two seasons, Perez will have to suck really hard for the Mets to give up on his contract, and Niese’s only major injury has been the freak one he suffered last year.

There’s also a solid chance the Mets go out and trade for a starter if they’re in contention near the trade deadline and one or more members of their rotation is hurt or performing poorly. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

How they stack up: I always think it’s a bit silly when, before every postseason series, newspapers run down the teams position-by-position to determine which team has the advantage where, because it doesn’t work like that. Derek Jeter isn’t facing Jimmy Rollins in the World Series, he’s facing the Phillies.

But I’m doing that here because it’s easy and I’m already 900 words deep into this post and I need to find a quick way to wrap it up. Jazz, like I said.

The way I see it, the Mets’ starting rotation is probably the third best in the division, behind the Braves and Phillies and ahead of the Marlins and Nationals. (Ooh, bold stance Ted!) I came to this conclusion via an incredibly complex scientific process which is far too complicated to detail here.

Next up: Catchers, which won’t take nearly so many words.

Items of note

Adam Rubin expects both Sean Green and Bobby Parnell to open the season in Triple-A. Cool. I suggested that plan a week ago but assumed it’d never happen. Now the Mets just need to pick Kiko Calero over Jenrry Mejia and all will be well.

Patrick Flood has an excellent and lengthy writeup from the parking lot at what used to be Tradition Field.

Somewhere in the middle of the Venn diagram circles for weird, pathetic and hilarious falls this article. I’ve seen Battlefield Earth, incidentally.

I hope Joe Mauer got a .444 necklace.

Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds

I made bacon yesterday.

Not in any sort of figurative sense, either. I quite literally made bacon.

I don’t want to get too bogged down in the details because I basically followed this guy’s recipe, with a little help from this guy’s recipe, and so there’s already plenty of details online about how to cure and smoke bacon. It goes like this:

1) Acquire pork belly. This was by far the hardest part. I could only find one place in Westchester that had any — a Latin market in White Plains. I was hoping for a five-pound slab, but he only had a couple two-pound pieces left, but whatever, bacon is bacon, so I took ’em.

Then you rub salt and brown sugar on the pork belly:

Then you stick it in plastic bags in the fridge for a week to let it cure. The salt draws moisture out of the pork. Osmosis. This is exciting because it’s like a delicious science project.

After a week, you rinse the pork belly and smoke the pork belly for a few hours. I used hickory, because that’s the standard in bacon-smoking. A lot of people say, “oh, use applewood” because you hear “applewood-smoked bacon” a lot. But I’m pretty sure you only note “applewood-smoked bacon” because it sounds fancy when it comes from Wendy’s, and because noting that it’s applewood-smoked is distinguishing it from most bacon, which is hickory smoked. And since this is my first foray into smoking bacon, I figured I’d use old reliable hickory.

Three hours of low-heat smoking later, we have bacon. Sort of.

You know how bacon comes with the disclaimer that it’s only partially cooked? That’s the case here, as well. So it’s a little disappointing, because you can’t just rip into it right off the smoker and start eating delicious bacon. Also, that’s actual pigskin on the top there, so you’ve got to slice that off before you slice up the bacon for cooking.

And then, fear. Since I didn’t use saltpeter, the bacon doesn’t have its familiar pink color once I start slicing into it, and I grow concerned that I’ve just made straight-up hickory-smoked pork somehow. Which would still be cool, you know, but not bacon:

But I had no reason to worry. It’s bacon, alright. Shorter than most bacon, due to the size of the slab. And I burned it a little the first time cooking it — probably because, since I have no meat slicer, I had to slice it a bit thicker than regular store-bought bacon and it screwed with my bacon-cooking mojo — but it was still pretty obviously bacon:

As for the taste? Delicious, of course. It’s bacon. The best bacon I’ve ever had? No, probably not. But really good bacon regardless. Better than run-of-the-mill bacon, even (as if such a thing exists!).

It’s a bit salty even for bacon, and I think next time I’ll use a little more brown sugar to cut the salt more, or experiment with maple syrup. But no matter. What’s important is that I’ve moved from purely a consumer of bacon to a consumer and producer of bacon. I have lessened, by some tiny degree, the size of my bacon footprint.

According to this article, the average American, as of 2007, ate 17.9 pounds of bacon a year. That’s nuts. I initially figured I eat more bacon than the average American, but playing with rough estimates in my head, I really don’t think there’s any way I eat more than 1.5 pounds of bacon a month. And I really f@#$ing love bacon.

That means, especially when you factor in vegetarians and health-nuts and all the people who bring the average way down, there must be people who just eat bacon all the time. Like I mean really all the time. Like people who spend every waking hour eating bacon, driving up our national bacon-consumption rates. And bully for you, bacon eaters. I have nothing but respect for the choices you’ve made.

I will eat more than 1.5 pounds of bacon this month, I am certain, and so my efforts to cut into my bacon deficit will be mitigated by all this bacon I just made available to me.

But I will give some of this bacon away, too. For the first time in my life, I will give back to the world some tiny fraction of all the bacon I have taken from it.

Finally, I have joined the ranks of the baconmakers.

Not like the kind he had with Robin Ventura

A huge hat tip to the Scoreboard Gourmet for tipping me off to this:

Nolan Ryan Beef.

I guess I knew Ryan had a ranch, but I never stopped to think his beef might be available to me.

It is, and he guarantees it’s good:

After years of trying to find a consistent, high quality steak, I finally decided that the only way I could guarantee beef that was tender and good every time was to start my own brand. I gathered up several of my ranching friends and enlisted some of the top meat scientists and beef marketing people in the world. Together, we developed a program to provide you with guaranteed tender, all natural beef that would always be tender and tasty and a great value for families.

Meat science!

Nolan Ryan also has a blog through the site. It is not frequently updated, but it is incredibly well copy-edited, so that’s a plus. Also, almost all Ryan’s entries are about steak.

You might say, “oh, well that’s because it’s a blog on his beef company’s website trying to sell more steak, and he’s probably not writing these blog entries,” but I’m holding out hope that Nolan Ryan is a very careful typist who really likes talking about steak.

Bobby O is on board

Bob Ojeda also doesn’t seem to think Jenrry Mejia should be in the Major League bullpen:

Q: Do you think Jenrry Mejia is major league ready?

A: I am a big believer in you can’t get by with one pitch. When I was [in Florida] earlier in spring training, his other pitches were coming along, but the fastball is the only pitch he can depend on. And if there is a day when that fastball doesn’t show up, then he would have no plan B.

So there’s that.

Probably the coolest thing about Jon Niese

Shamik reminds me of probably the coolest thing about Jon Niese: He was born the day the Mets won the World Series in 1986.

And check this out: Josh Thole was born the day of the 1986 Mets’ ticker-tape parade. (Also, that is a hilarious Wikipedia find.)

After they dropped the first two games of that Series to the Red Sox at Shea, the Mets had an off-day on Oct. 20. In South Carolina, Reese Havens was born, and then the Mets took four out of the next five to take the championship. Coincidence? Yes. But still.

If that’s not enough to blow your mind, chew on this: Brad Holt was born when the Mets and Astros were tied at two games apiece in the NLCS that year, right before the Mets took a pair of marathons, the latter prompting the epic and notorious flight from Houston.

Also, draw your own conclusions here, but Captain Kirk Nieuwenhuis was born on Aug. 7, 1987, just a little over nine months after the conclusion of the ’86 series.

Items of note

This is a good story. I set out to make a joke about Ugueth Urbina, but after reading it, I don’t even want to. K-Rod seems like a good dude.

From reader Scott: Robbers hold up Taco Bell for food. Bad reporting, though. The story says they got “fried apple pies,” but I have to assume they got Caramel Apple Empanadas, which are delicious.

(Also, considering the longstanding urban legend that McDonald’s Apple Pies are loaded with potatoes, did anyone else find it a little bit suspicious that Taco Bell introduced Caramel Apple Empanadas at the exact same time they added all the potato products to the menu?)

Heath Bell is awesome.

The Mets are thinking about Chad Gaudin. I don’t know what they’re thinking, but maybe it’s “hey, remember that beard he had?” Also, it will never stop being funny to me that Cousin Mose from the Office is Ken Tremendous.

The Chris Carter Movement

In all the Jenrry Mejia hype, I haven’t spent a lot of time discussing the Mets’ 25th roster spot, which will ostensibly go to a left-handed bench bat.

According to Newsday’s David Lennon, the race is between Frank Catalonotto and Mike Jacobs, and Chris Carter has “no shot.”

Given the choice between the two, I’d take Catalonotto. Jacobs’ lone skill — his power — is not as valuable as Catalonotto’s combination of on-base ability and defensive flexibility. The Long Island native plays first base way more capably than Jacobs, plus can play the corner outfield spots and backup second base in a pinch.

It’s too bad if Carter really has no shot, though, because though he can’t boast the Major League experience of his competitors, he seems to blend a nice mix of their assets. He’s got power, as evidenced by the .493 slugging percentage he’s posted at Triple-A over the past four seasons. He can get on base, based on the .373 OBP he’s posted in that time.

And though he’s certainly no Keith Hernandez, he’s likely a better defender than Jacobs at first, and he can back up the corner outfield spots as well.

So why doesn’t Carter have a shot? Beats me. A bad attitude? Mental mistakes? His work ethic has earned him the nickname “The Animal” from Jerry Manuel, and he graduated from Stanford in three years.

Most likely, Chris Carter has no shot because Chris Carter is not a Major Leaguer. He only has 26 Major League plate appearances.

And that’s a funny thing.

What makes people Major Leaguers? Why is Mike Jacobs a Major Leaguer?

Mike Jacobs is a Major Leaguer because he was on the Mets’ 40-man roster and so got called up from Double-A at 24 in 2005 when Mike Piazza got hurt but didn’t go on the Disabled List. Jacobs hit a pinch-hit home run and then, when the Mets tried to send him back to the Minors, Pedro Martinez threw a hissy fit. So Jacobs stuck.

He went on a tear that lasted the rest of the season, and so from then on, Mike Jacobs was a Major Leaguer.

Maybe if Piazza didn’t get hurt, or if Esteban Loiaza didn’t leave that pitch over the plate or if Pedro wasn’t Pedro, Jacobs would’ve ended up in the Majors anyway. After all, he was crushing the ball in Double-A when he got the call. He had a .965 OPS. Mighty stuff.

But you know who else could crush the ball at Double-A? Chris Carter did. He posted a .960 OPS in his one brief stint there in 2005, then followed it up with four straight solid-to-excellent performances at Triple-A.

And so it’s not hard to imagine a situation in which Carter, and not Jacobs, could have been blessed with a timely opportunity, a whimsical ace and a month-long hot streak to carry him to four years of big-league fortune.

It was not that way, though. It was the other way. Jacobs is the Major Leaguer, Carter the career Minor Leaguer. Maybe the superior player and maybe the better fit for the Mets, but seemingly the less likely candidate for the Opening Day nonetheless.

Carter leads all Mets still in camp this spring with a 1.476 OPS. Of course he hasn’t had very many opportunities.

But I guess that’s just the thing.

There’s a movement brewing to get him on the club. I sense it’s in vain, and that it won’t be as loud as the movement to keep Jenrry Mejia off the club. Regardless, I’m on board.

And I’m not alone:

A poll on Amazin’ Avenue today on the matter yielded a shocking 80-percent support for Carter. Patrick Flood wrote a post a few weeks ago that touched on similar topics to this one and combined two of my favorite subjects: Quadruple-A players and The Clash.

Sign up. Join the movement. Free Chris Carter.