The Mets misbegotten season took another dopey turn yesterday at Shea as the Mets brass bungled the long-awaited Piazza-to-first experiment. Who is driving this rent-a-wreck anyway? It sure isn't GM Steve Phillips anymore. It's simply a matter of time before he's fired. Art Howe? Mmmm, not likely. ("I didn't realize you say something on the radio around here it's all over the place before you even blink," Howe, the Mets' first-year manager, said. "It's a learning process for me." Can he truly be this naive?) That leaves Fred and Jeff Wilpon. Still, it's bewildering that an incident like yesterday can actually happen.
These days it seems the Mets sit around and devise new ways to humiliate themselves. The Mets moved seamlessly from haircut-gate to another episode of front office ineptitude. For five years, they shunned this vital subject. Then in one thoughtless afternoon - in the same week GM Steve Phillips and Art Howe said they had no immediate intentions to meet with Piazza - they ended up more slapstick about who's on first than Abbott and Costello.
The Mets' front office has a severe case of bone spurs of the thought process. In addition to all the gruesome things happening on the field and in the sick bay, the Mets have ticked off their best player, Mike Piazza.
They are a national example of how not to run a sports team: dawdle, and duck an inevitable decision. Then, when backed into an unfortunate corner by injuries, embarrass your big guy in public.
Mo Vaughn is fighting the good fight, looking to the best doctors across the country to try and find an answer for his painful, swollen knees. He seems almost hell-bent on having surgery to remove bone spurs that would likely return in just months. There are open questions about options he has for surgery that would allow a return to the field, not only this year, but possibly this career. My guess is that for all intents and purposes, Mo Vaughn is done. He may make cameo appearances, but his days as a feared hitter or even a productive one are now a memory.