If absolutely everything falls right (pt. 1)

This is often considered a depressing time of year even for those who aren’t Mets fans, but it’s especially bad right now for the Shea Faithful, what with… well, pretty much everything except reports of R.A. Dickey doing stuff.

So I’m squinting at Patrick Flood’s pre-preseason-preview and trying to think of if there’s any way the Mets could have one of those magical seasons where everything falls right, as unlikely as that now seems. So this’ll be a four-part series, I guess, in which I look at the position players and then pitchers likely to be on the roster and take a stab at making the most optimistic predictions for what they might produce for the club in 2012 to figure out if even then the Mets would turn out good.

And I’ll try to keep it at least vaguely reasonable. Technically the most optimistic prediction would be that every hitter on the team suddenly busts out a la Jose Bautista 2010, and the Mets become a ridiculous juggernaut that steamrolls the National League. But since Bautista’s case is exceptional, I’m not about to predict a 1.000 OPS for Ruben Tejada in 2012.

Catcher: Josh Thole has been about average offensively for a catcher in his career, and his ability to get on base and youth seem to bode pretty well for his future at the plate. He struggled defensively in 2011 after appearing to improve that part of his game in 2010. So if all goes well in 2012, he keeps getting on base, turns on a few more pitches for extra-base hits, and puts the defensive growing pains behind him. The most optimistic of the three projections on Fangraphs gives Thole an on-base heavy .736 OPS, but let’s go crazy and raise that to .750 and hope he can play average defense.

It’s hard to realistically hope for much from Mike Nickeas offensively, given his career Minor League numbers. But if we’re half-fulling here,  maybe Thole stays healthy enough to play the bulk of the Mets’ games behind the plate, Nickeas’ defense lives up to its billing and he hits well enough to prove an above replacement-level backup catcher. That doesn’t take much: Even a .600 OPS with good enough defense would do the trick.

First base: Ike Davis spent the first month of 2011 hitting about as well as we could reasonably hope he could, but given the long injury layoff I’d say it’s unfair to project a .925 OPS even in this useless exercise. But they are moving the fences in and we are trying to be as optimistic as possible, so let’s say Ike is healthy and stays that way and can maintain an OPS around .880 while playing his typically excellent defense. 

Second base: The most optimistic thing you can hope for at the keystone is that Daniel Murphy can hack it there well enough to avoid injury and embarrassment and keep his bat in the lineup. If Murph can maintain something around his .809 OPS from 2011 and just be better than Dan Uggla defensively, he’s a pretty valuable guy to have in the middle infield.

Third base: It was all the fences. David Wright again performs like his 2005-2008 vintage, when he was one of the very best players in baseball. He’s still probably a step slower defensively, but that part of his game improves a bit too as he grows more confident that he can again be awesome.

Shortstop: As with Davis and Murphy, with Ruben Tejada the most reasonable optimistic expectation would have to be that he’s capable of repeating something close to his offensive performance from 2011 over a full season. And there’s not much in Tejada’s Minor League past to suggest he should do that, but he’s so young and has always been so young for every level that we can still cross our fingers and hope he’s coming of age before our eyes, and that he can play capable defense at a premium position.

Backups: Ronny Cedeno sees some time as a defensive replacement and makes a bunch of fancy plays. Justin Turner forever wins the hearts of Mets fans everywhere with clutchness and grit in a right-handed pinch-hitting role. Neither needs to start that often, obviously, because all of the regular infielders are staying healthy and having career years.

How many wins is that infield worth? The way I see it — and again, I know this is all very unlikely — it’d have two legit stars in Davis and Wright, a solidly above-average player in Murphy and at least average guys in Tejada and Thole.

Donut-related hostility on the 6 train

The 6 train sucks at rush hour. It comes every couple of minutes, but it inevitably fills way past the threshold at which a commuter can enjoy an inch of personal space. And even despite that, plenty of idiots still block the doors at stops, refuse to move all the way into the train cars and shove their way on instead of just waiting for the next train like everyone else on the platform.

As the doors were closing at the 68th St. stop this morning, a guy tried to scramble in only to meet an unyielding wall of humanity. The door caught him on the side and jostled him forward into the train and into a collision with another dude, who, it turned out, had a deep, booming, Ving Rhames voice and a bag he was working hard to protect.

“MOTHERF@#$ER!” He yelled. “Can’t you see I’ve got f@#$ing donuts!?”

The first dude, inches away from and face to face with the angry donut-holding guy with nowhere to move, mumbled something inaudible as the train started moving.

“OH YOU WANT SOME OF THESE F!@#ING DONUTS?” the angry guy continued. “I’LL SHOVE THESE DONUTS RIGHT IN YOUR F@#$ING FACE!”

“Ay, dios mio!” said a woman holding a baby, sitting nearby. The perpetrator looked down and mumbled something else. Here’s my favorite part:

“YEAH, YOU BETTER F@#$IN’ HOPE THEY CHOCOLATE!”

Between 59th St. and 51st, Donut Guy announced to the man in front of him and basically everyone else on the train that he was getting off at the next stop. He appeared to do so without incident and, fortunately for everyone, without in any way compromising his prized bag of donuts.

So if some basso profundo co-worker brought donuts to your Midtown office today, make sure to thank him profusely. He put a lot of effort into getting those donuts to you intact.

Guesstimate with me

You ever walk past one of those rotisserie chicken places and see like 30 chickens rotating on spits and wonder how many chickens available for sale in New York City are actively cooking at that moment?

I do, and I have ever since one of my friends first brought the subject up for debate. I’ve got a ballpark estimate, but I’m curious what you’d guess.

To clarify: I’m not talking about chickens people are cooking in their homes here, or else I imagine the number would be astronomical.

And I don’t mean raw chickens that are about to be cooked. I mean chickens cooking in restaurants and takeout places and supermarkets and anyplace else that might sell cooked chicken in the five boroughs of New York City on any given Wednesday night around 7 p.m.

[poll id=”52″]

 

Sandwich investigation continued

Then Mr. Berg asks if a burger is a sandwich, and even brings in the legal definition and NPR to bring us to a “protein encased in a bread product” (it’s quite the series).

Let me suggest something that may throw a wrench in the works: portability. After all, open-faced sandwiches are not only “stupid,” they have a French name: tartine. And why was the sandwich created if not for portability and ease of ingestion? Clearly, portability is part of this thing, even if it doesn’t end up in the definition.

Eno Sarris, EnoSarris.com.

Oh, Eno, portability is a big part of this thing. Fear not.

Ike Davis mending, Mets medical staff… who knows?

Good feature from Anthony Rieber in Newsday about Ike Davis’ recovery process. The bottom line? Davis is ready to go, but his ankle injury could linger in some fashion for the rest of his career. And it was at some point misdiagnosed by the Mets’ medical staff.

That report sparked a flurry of Tweets from Adam Rubin indicating other times the Mets have mishandled player injuries, but though some of them are quite damning, the cases — as Rubin briefly notes — are different than Davis’.

With Davis, the medical staff actually misdiagnosed the injury. Traditionally, it seems, the problem has not been the diagnoses from the medical staff but how the team acts on them, and there’s not a ton to suggest the problem has continued under Sandy Alderson.

Remembering Pascual Perez

Navin Vaswani at NotGraphs collected a bunch of solid anecdotes about Pascual Perez from the Internet. It’s worth reading, but it made me feel pretty old because about halfway through I realized it was pretty clear that Vaswani — as he later noted — never saw Perez pitch.

He was all those things and more, Navin. It was something to behold. He didn’t just wear the jheri curls, he lived them.

If I remember it right, Carlos actually proved the craziest of the pitching Perezes. The Wikipedia is blacked out and so is a good portion of my memory, so I can’t prove that now. But I remember him wildly signaling strikeouts from the mound and taking ridiculous home-run swings every time he came up to hit, and I remember aping both those things while playing stickball.

Melido, on the other hand, never did anything I can remember to distinguish himself as weird besides being Pascual’s brother, throwing a rain-shortened no-hitter against the Yankees then later joining the Yankees, and also having sweet jheri curls.

Via Steve Schreiber.

None of the above!

Do I really think Brewster’s Millions is the best baseball film ever made? No. It’s a really stupid movie. But it’s one of those awful movies that every time it pops up on one of my 15,000 DirecTV channels, I fall into some sort of drooling trance in which time stands still. I don’t know that I’ve ever watched the thing from start to finish, but I’ve probably seen it about 30 times in fits and starts. There are some things the film did well. First, it proved that you can stick John Candy and Richard Pryor in the same movie and not only render them completely unfunny, but you can in fact make them seem almost child-like. I mean, this is Richard freaking Pryor, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t use a single swear word in the entire film.

Bradford Doolittle, Baseball Prospectus.

I was pretty excited to see Brewster’s Millions on Baseball Prospectus’ list of 10 favorite baseball movies, but then I read the accompanying blurb. “Awful”? “Unfunny”?

Get your head out of the spreadsheet, son. Brewster’s Millions is a classic, and this dude at work who went to film school agrees. The premise is outstanding and the Richard Pryor is Richard Pryor. And “None of the Above” remains the only political candidate to which I could ever give my wholehearted endorsement.

Why national baseball writers should avoid writing team-specific articles

A couple of people pointed me to Jeff Passan’s ill-considered rip-job of the Mets for Yahoo! yesterday, but I was struggling to muster up the energy to write something about it, in large part because I didn’t know where to begin and in smaller part because I’ve come to hate indulging stuff like that with whatever little traffic I’d send its way. Luckily, Eric Simon took care of it.