2009 is over, expectations lowered

I for one am relieved to be done with this torturous season. I'm sticking my Mets jersey in the back of the closet. Mets blogs? See ya when the winter meetings roll around (oh right... except for this one). This season has been like a bad girlfriend. I'm not really sure why I stayed with it so long, but boy am I glad it's gone, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to forget it ever existed. Sorry liver, but you might have to work overtime a few nights to completely erase that 6-month debacle from my memory. Thankfully I have short hair, or it might have all been ripped out by now.

But of course the offseason is here, and hope springs eternal. My Seahawks are already doing their best impression of the Mets (and themselves from last year). The Rangers are buoying my spirits for the time being, but I'm preparing for another broken heart in April, at which point the Mets will be ready to sweep up whatever is left of my ability to care with a broom made of Carlos Beltran's legs. I'm ever the optimist.

While I'm sure the Mets will pull a Mets and sign some overpriced free agent and get every major media outlet buzzing about them, I'm tempering my expectations indefinitely. Injuries are one thing, but this team will struggle to break .500 as long as Omar and Jerry are piloting this nosediving plane. Omar is king of the 3-man bench. His roster mismanagement is embarrassing. When the morons on Baseball Tonight are questioning your moves, you're in over your head. Jerry needs to be dropped off at the nearest garbage dump (presumably Staten Island). He is completely inept, incompetent, and incapable. I'm sick of Jerry and his "hunches." It's nice to have a gut feeling once in a while, but to completely discount statistics in your decision-making is just plain arrogant. You know what Jerry? I have a hunch that you suck as a manager. I have hunch that you'll be fired in the middle of the season. I have a hunch that you're having an affair with Fernando Tatis. Sometimes I get the gut feeling that you know absolutely nothing about baseball. Ooh, this is easier than it sounds. Someone hire me as a manager!

Instead of "You gotta believe," the Mets might want to consider changing their inspirational slogan to "What the hell were you thinking?"