You think that sucked?

Yeah, this installment of the Subway Series was bad, but not nearly as bad as the script of Prometheus. And I get that you might share your office with some obnoxious Yankee fans and put extra stock in the three games, even realizing that they’re only three games against an opponent outside the Mets’ division in the course of a 162-game series. And you probably recognize that Prometheus is a summertime sci-fi action thriller, not exactly Oscar bait.

But though a series including a blowout loss with Johan Santana on the mound, a couple of solid starting-pitching efforts wasted, a slew of strikeouts in big spots and a bullpen meltdown culminating in a walk-off Yankee Stadium home run, it’s hardly as taxing or as baffling as the plot of Prometheus, a movie apparently aimed to clarify one moment in another movie from 33 years ago that mostly opens up dozens more questions that need clarification.

Why is the cyborg the most relatable character? Why does he start acting irrationally and in some way that doesn’t seem to benefit his maker/programmer, even though he’s a cyborg? Why is handsome-ass Guy Pearce in the movie to play an old guy in awful old-guy makeup when there are hundreds of capable old guy actors looking for work? Why does the dialogue seem like it’s written by a 9th grader? Without SPOILERing this, why are certain humans affected certain ways by the things that happen in the movie when other humans are affected in other ways? Why do they bother doing the thing so many movies do now where they set up an obvious sequel when nothing about the movie really makes me care what happens next?

And yeah, just like enjoying a brutal series of Mets losses is still way better than not watching professional baseball games, Prometheus was still great to look at as a computer-graphics spectacle. But really, if the outcomes are going to be so wholly unsatisfying, why bother with things like standard nine-inning games or a loosely rendered plot? Next time maybe just have a home run derby or a story-free celebration of contemporary computer-graphics technology in IMAX 3D and we’ll all enjoy the awesomeness without the accompanying heartache and confusion.

Idris Elba and Scott Hairston are still sweet though.

We had Internet issues in the office today so I couldn’t do much work for a while this morning. Luckily, one of the producers who sits across from me was working on some piece about Mike Piazza that required him to sit there watching Mike Piazza highlights on his monitor. They were awesome because so is Mike Piazza.

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About Ike

Per request.

Before the season, many Mets fans — myself included — expected Ike Davis would be one of the Mets’ best players, if not the Mets’ best player. Now, we talk about Ike Davis like he’s the worst kid on a Little League team. We celebrate his few loud outs and commend him for working deep into counts and excuse him when he’s victimized by what looks to be a questionable call by an umpire.

All that stuff has happened, no doubt. On top of everything else, Davis has very likely been unlucky this year. He’s got a .202 batting average on balls in play — well below his career .301 mark — despite an 18.5 percent line-drive percentage that actually betters his career rate. Still, he’s not putting as many balls in play, striking out more than he ever has before. And he’s not walking as much as he has in the past, either.

It’s not good. And the measures taken to fix Davis thus far don’t seem to have worked. Every time he appears to be coming out of his funk, he goes 0-for-4 with two strikeouts.

Early in the season, I was certain it was a bad idea to demote Davis based on a miserable slump over a small sample. As the sample grows larger and Davis continues to struggle, I’m no longer convinced it’s a bad idea. Davis and Terry Collins maintain that the first baseman needs to right himself at the big-league level, but he looks so lost that it seems like it can’t hurt to right him in Triple-A first. One-step-at-a-time type stuff.

With Jason Bay ready to come back and roster shuffling afoot, it’s hard to argue that the Mets’ best lineup right now includes Davis playing in it. I suspect his defense — currently maligned after he booted a ball last night — has prevented some throwing errors by his teammates, but it’s hard to imagine he has saved them anywhere near as many runs in the field as he has cost them at the plate.

If the Mets were already fading in the standings, it’d seem reasonable to stick with Davis until he turns it around. But the longer they stay in contention, the better the likelihood that they’ll be in contention at the end of the season. And if that’s the case, they’re going to want every win they can get. Davis, right now, is costing them wins.

But then regression is a powerful force in baseball, and there’s still more evidence that Davis is a capable Major League hitter than that he isn’t. If 12 more of his batted balls to date had fallen in for singles, his batting average on balls in play would be right near his career mark and he’d have a more palatable (but still bad) batting line around .230/.290/.345. That would, I suspect, be enough to stave off the demotion talk, especially with the Mets comfortably above .500.

Which is to say: I don’t know. People expect (and often provide) firm opinions on things like this, but the complexities and inherent randomness in baseball lend the sport to wishy-washiness. Maybe the Mets send Davis to Triple-A and he turns it around immediately, then comes back in a few weeks and leads them to the playoffs. Maybe they do, it crushes his confidence and he struggles all season. Maybe they stick with him and he goes to town on Yankee Stadium’s short right-field porch next weekend, then enjoys a prolonged hot stretch to match this slump. Maybe they stick with him and he stinks all year.

I am firm in my ambivalence on this one. Sorry. Call it a copout if you want, but I’m not going to argue on behalf of something I don’t fully believe.