The Phillie Phanatic (a person/bird/thing I legitimately love more than most members of my family) is out for revenge. After traveling home to the Galapagos Islands to learn about his heritage and selflessly building homes for the less fortunate, what does he find? That a recent poll from the celebrity Davie-Brown Index ranked him as only the second-best mascot in the game … behind Mr. Met.

And yeah, I’m guessing the poll was 80% New Yorkers naming the only mascot they could remember, but that’s a travesty. A Jim Henson creation who has set the bar for mascot excellence for almost 40 years finishes behind a guy with a baseball head, because “baseball”. A f**king disgrace.

The Phanatic paid a visit to the New York Mets announce booth to address the situation, if we take “address the situation” to mean “polish Gary Cohen’s head” and make people wear cheesesteak hats. At least he got Cohen to say he likes his with whiz. The Phanatic isn’t as aggressive as I’d like him to be.

Video is below.

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I don’t believe that you can really judge a baseball team’s on-field success until at least May, once all of the kinks and bugs have been worked out, but I’ll go ahead and say now that one of the pleasant surprises of this early season is the 4-1, first place New York Mets. After an offseason of controversy and scandal involving owners Saul Katz and Fred Wilpon having to pay $162 million to the victims of Bernie Madoff’s Ponzi scheme because they allegedly knew about it and made money off of it, it’s nice to see a little good news coming out of Citi Field.

And that goes double for today, because the Mets are celebrating their 50th year as a Major League Baseball franchise. On April 11, 1962, the Mets played for the first time and lost 11-4 to the more intelligent and classier St. Louis Cardinals, which wouldn’t be a big deal except that they went on to lose 119 more times that season to set a MLB record.

But nobody cares about that, because New York sports means being positive all the time, or so the New York Post believes.

No matter: Five years after the Dodgers and Giants left the city for California, National League baseball was back.

And it didn’t even matter that the team stunk — or, as manager Casey Stengel famously moaned, “Can’t anybody here play this game?”

New Yorkers loved their Mets.

Not until 1969 did the team finally have a winning season — but that was the year of the Miracle: They won 100 games and the World Series, and the city went wild.

And New York needed it, because that poor town just can’t catch a break in sports. Not like those a-holes over in Pittsburgh and Chicago. No sir, those Pirates and Cubs can’t take a step without tripping over a winning season or a World Series.

In all seriousness, though, a winning Mets team would make for a good story this season, just so they can do it for this guy…

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I’ve divided this post into two helpful sections.

For Normal People: Relief pitcher (and possible Super Mario Bros. villain) Tim Byrdak decided to have a little fun at New York Mets spring training camp by putting on some underwear, growing a Fu Manchu mustache and running around flexing his muscles for the Brian Wilsonic enjoyment of all. According to Byrdak-Hogan (Hodak?), he’s got a big wrestling match with Andre the Giant and he’s gonna rip off his “freakin’ face”.

From Big League Stew:

But Byrdak couldn’t claim in good faith that he was just being an instructor because he enjoys having a bit of fun in the clubhouse. He dressed up like a football referee before a game last season and handed out penalties to teammates. He even started re-growing his Hulkster goatee before the season because he thought it’d look cool on photo day.

“I just want to let these younger guys know that it’s OK to have fun and that spring training doesn’t need to be so serious,” he said.

It does look like fun, but here’s to hoping he doesn’t have to field any grounders in those short-pants. You can check out video of the costume (and his excellent promo skills) below:

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Gary Carter died on Thursday.

He was, to most people, The Kid. A Hall of Fame catcher, a coach for Palm Beach Atlantic University, the guy with the most important single in New York Mets history in the 1986 World Series, a man who’d been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor last May. He was an 11-time All-Star, a 21-year veteran, a 3-time Gold Glove award winner, it’s hard to find a picture of him without a smile on his face and he died at a hospice.

I want to extend my condolences to Gary’s friends and family, but who am I to do that? I do wish them well. I wish death didn’t have to happen like this. Hell, I wish death didn’t have to happen. It’s mean. It doesn’t make sense, even when a doctor says “yeah, this is what’s happening to your brain” and you’ve got a year to plan for it.

The goal, I guess, is to be remembered. Gary Carter won’t have trouble with that. 78.02% of his peers made sure of that back in 2003. But right now — in the days immediately following the realization that he’s gone — how should we remember him? A paragraph of stats? Pictures?

It’s not a thing I figured out, but the memories are what matter most. I’ve been reading our goodbyes to him all morning … Marty Noble at MLB.com, Jeff Pearlman talking through Ed Hearn at The Wallstreet Journal, Jason Fry, a guy who loves the Mets more than anyone I’ve ever met, at Faith And Fear In Flushing. I make baseball players pretend to curse at each other for a living, so I found it hard to find my own words. I couldn’t. I looked for a video, because I’m a guy on the Internet.

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Attention: Flushing-area alcoholics — stop by your local Modell’s Sporting Goods on the way out and pick up a gross of discounted Mets merch, because Foley’s NY Pub and Restaurant is offering free drinks in exchange for Jose Reyes jerseys. It’s sorta like what happened in Cleveland, but with a better attitude and fewer bonfires.

The ad campaign, by way of The Hall Of Very Good:

“New York baseball is feeling a swirl of emotions as Jose Reyes heads south this winter. We’re giving Mets fans a chance to drown their sorrows, or celebrate, and bid adios to Jose, one of the best and most popular Mets players ever,” said Shaun Clancy, owner of Foley’s. “By doing this, we can have a little fun and donate to clothing drives for people who are less fortunate.”

So it’s sorta like sending all those TEXAS RANGERS WORLD CHAMPIONS 2011 t-shirts to Africa, but the Africa you’re clothing is down the street.

Take the drinks, New York, you’re going to need them.

"Sit down," yelled the no one behind them.

Miami Marlins owner Jeffrey Loria must be having a pretty good laugh right now, because we had mostly assumed that the rumors of his courtship of this offseason’s biggest free agents were a load of fish poop. The Marlins had been publicly enamored with Jose Reyes, Albert Pujols, Mark Buerhle and C.J. Wilson, but, by all accounts, their offers were riding a fine line between low-balling and insulting.

But low balls are better than no balls, because Loria flopped his big, ol’ pouch on the table as the winter meetings are kicking off in Dallas. The Marlins and Reyes have agreed on a 6-year deal worth $106 million, which ends the former Rookie of the Year’s 9-year stint with the New York Mets. The Mets wanted to keep Reyes, but they would need money for that and they don’t have any. Whoops?

By increasing their offer to Reyes, they knocked the Mets out of the running to hang on to their shortstop. The Mets were reportedly willing to give Reyes no more than five-year deal worth $75 to $80 million.

(Via the Miami Herald)

And that’s actually smart thinking by the Mets, seeing as Reyes will turn 29 next season, and he has missed 191 games over the last 3 seasons. That’s a pretty bold investment for the Marlins. I know what you’re thinking, though – don’t the Marlins already have a stud shortstop? Sure they do, but screw that guy!

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