Uncle Cliffy and the Awful Truth

"I have friends there, and they say it's just not a good mix," Cliff Floyd said.

"Not a good locker room?" Mike Francesa asked, pressing the point.

"Not a good locker room," Floyd confirmed.

* * * * *

Over the last several years, one of the most persistent questions around the Mets has been whether there's a problem in the team's clubhouse.

The collapses in 2007 and again in 2008 (though I hesitate at calling 2008 a "collapse", given the talent deficit on that team) fueled the fire and lent the storyline credibility.

In response, players on the team, the manager, the general manager and everyone else has been quick to refute the point. They say the problem isn't the guys in the clubhouse, the problem is winning and losing.

Yesterday we finally had a guy break ranks (so to speak). To my mind, in the exchange above, Cliff Floyd, our beloved Uncle Cliffy, confirmed what many of us have suspected: the Mets have a problem in their clubhouse.

Here's what I want to know though: who are the "friends" Floyd's referring to?

We all know he and David Wright are tight -- so I'm going to assume Wright is one of Floyd's confidantes on this topic. Who else?

Looking at the team's active roster, there are 7 players left on the roster from 2006, not counting Wright. Those players are: Pedro Feliciano, John Maine, Mike Pelfrey, Oliver Perez, Anderson Hernandez, Jose Reyes, and Carlos Beltran.

I'm going to wager that Hernandez wasn't on the team long enough for him and Floyd to be in close contact. Ditto Pelfrey, Perez, and Maine.

I honestly don't think Jose Reyes could get down about anything, so I'm guessing it's not him. That leaves Feliciano and Beltran.

Between the two of them, Feliciano seems much more likely to fess up to something like this, but I have no idea if he and Floyd were friendly; relief pitchers and outfielders wouldn't have a lot of natural overlap.

So what about Beltran? Maybe, but he seems like the strong, silent type, the kind of guy who wouldn't want to get mixed up in some rumor mill type story.

Who knows... I guess when I started this exercise I really thought we'd be able to get somewhere.

Perhaps my methodology isn't scientific enough. For all I know he's talking about guys like Billy Wagner or Ramon Castro, who were there in 2007-2008 but not 2009. Plus, Floyd was a bit of a journeyman in his career -- there's nothing saying the friends he's referring to are people he knew from his days on the Mets.

* * * * *

Either way, the point is that we now have it on pretty good authority that there's a problem in the Mets' clubhouse. One of its most popular former players is now saying it, and he's likely saying it on the basis of the team's presumed future Captain, David Wright.

You could argue that saying there's a problem now is a bit self-serving for Floyd; in the interview, his departure is cited as a turning point for the clubhouse, so one could see where it's to his benefit to perpetuate this storyline.

But I don't take Cliffy for that kind of guy. I think he's just telling us what he knows, and I don't think any of us are too surprised to hear it.

If he's right,well, we've had our misgivings about this team all offseason. Unless Jason Bay is a game changer in this regard, it doesn't seem team chemistry is going to help them cover up their flaws.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Ya Gotta Give 'Em Hope

The dead of winter is upon us.

Though we have the excitement of the Super Bowl this week and the promise of pitchers and catchers reporting soon afterward, in these frigid February days, baseball feels a long way off.

And so it was with great delight that I discovered a godsend of a new recording on my DVR. It was MLB Network's profile of the 1986 season.

Now, nothing could ever possibly top the 1986 Mets tape ("A Year To Remember"), but this video provided a great overview for the uninitiated (such as Little Miss Citi, whom I made watch the tape with me even though she was clearly desperate to go to bed).

The hot foot? Check. The four arrests in Houston? Check. The NLCS? The World Series? Game 6? Check, check, and check.

Reliving the memory of '86 is always going to bring a smile to the face of any Mets fan, but as I watched the recording (again) last night, I was struck by something new. As I wrote to some friends:

"MLB did '86 last week and I watched it last night. You know how the story ends of course, but what struck me (perhaps because of the time of year we're in now) was the beginning -- about how clear it was going into Spring Training that the Mets were loaded and the only question was 'how good are they going to be?'

Needless to say, it's a far cry from 'if this and if that then maybe will we be good enough?'"

As I've already lamented on this site, the difference between 2010 and each of the past 5 years is that there's so little hope attached to this season.

Mets fans are angry and bitter over the way the last few years played out, there's no denying that. But the sense I get is that what Mets fans are really angry about is the sense that in 2010, management hasn't given us a reason to hope. With ESPN reporting yesterday that the Mets' wallets are closed until Spring Training, it doesn't look like that's going to change.

Could it all have been different? Was there some combination of moves out there that would have made this team feel like a winner again?

That's difficult to say. Sip was telling me the other day that John Lackey is one of the five best pitchers in baseball; I'm not so sure that's accurate, but he would have helped. Was there some might-have-been trade that would have put us over the top, some road not taken? Who can say?

The result is that everything about the present feels worse, and everything about the future feels less exciting.

It's frigid outside right now; it's been like that all week. It's not unlike any other February, I suppose, only this February, the promise of spring and summer shines a little less brightly, dampened as it is by the creeping anticipation of a lackluster season of Mets baseball.

- A.F.O.M.G.

What Do These Five Players Have in Common?

Ben Sheets. Xavier Nady. Jon Garland. Ronnie Belliard. Brad Ausmus.

On the face of it, these five ballplayers don't have a ton in common.

Some are infielders, others are pitchers. Some are known for their bat, others for their glove. Some are big money guys, others are bargain bin types.

After yesterday they now have a few things in common they didn't have previously, however.

For one thing, they're now all off the market. Each time I clicked over to Metsblog on Tuesday, the top story was about how each one of them had finally inked a deal for 2010.

Certainly the first three players, Sheets, Nady, and Garland could have helped the Mets in 2010, and you can make an argument that Belliard and Ausmus would have been fine additions as well,.

And yet none of them are coming to the Mets -- another thing they have in common -- in spite of our clear needs at pitcher (Sheets, Garland), catcher (Ausmus), second base (Belliard), and first base (Nady).

I'm not saying the Mets should have signed any of these players -- you could argue that neither Belliard nor Ausmus would have been an upgrade, certainly, and that Sheets wasn't worth the money or Nady the injury risk -- but with each passing day it becomes more and more likely that the list of guys we've got on the team today, in January, are the guys we'll be going to war with when the season opens in April.

If that's the case, I think we all need to have a good honest talk with ourselves about our expectations for 2010. To me, this is shaping up to be an extraordinarily expensive 82-win ballclub.

I want to be more optimistic, but our rotation simply isn't where it needs to be... I mean, do we even have a fifth starter? Our bullpen looks like the same mess as last year. We have weak links at first base, second base, and catcher. Our bench will probably suck again, although I think I saw that Argenis Reyes signed with the Dodgers, so there's that.

All in all it doesn't have the makings of a magical season of Mets baseball. That wouldn't be so noteworthy, only I have to say I was quite confident heading into the last four seasons, and I was optimistic, if not necessarily confident, heading into 2005.

Maybe I'm wrong about the group Omar's assembled, but from where I sit now, this is the first time in a long time that I'm heading into a season with such low expectations. But maybe that's just me.

- A.F.O.M.G.

Everybody Get Your Roll On, What!

Sunday was quite a day for the Glass Man, but even moreso for Little Miss Citi.

After I watched the Jets-Colts game at Sip's place, the two of us headed for Hill Country, where Little Miss Citi and a bunch of other Saints fans were about to watch their team in the NFC Championship Game.

The game was a rollercoaster. Brett Favre and the Vikings looked sharp from the get-go, scoring on their first possession before the Saints answered in kind.

It was a battle until the end, when, as Favre led his team down the field with the clock winding down on regulation, everywhere around me Saints fans were certain their dream season was slipping away. Most watched in disbelief, some had their heads down, others had tears.

Then the miraculous happened. An implausible penalty for 12 men on the field (after a timeout no less) pushed the Vikings out of field goal range before a flustered Favre threw an interception that pushed the game into OT. It was the miracle we were all left waiting for in '06, when the Mets loaded the bases before Carlos Beltran went down with the bat on his shoulders.

My table and the Saints fans all around me erupted; despair turned to bedlam.

Then they won the coin flip. Then they marched down the field. Then a kicker with ice in his veins stuck a 40-yard field goal with about as perfect a kick as you'll ever see.

The Saints had won, the Saints had won, oh my god, the Saints had won.

The displaced New Orleanians couldn't believe it. In the depths of the bar there were hugs, high fives, oh my gods, and tears here and there. When we emerged from the bar, where there was no cell phone reception, everyone had a million text or voice messages (including myself, strangely enough). After a quick review of these, the calls to friends and family began promptly.

It was getting late. But in the thrill of victory there was one more stop to make.

We cabbed it to Bar None, the LES bar that caters to fans of both the Saints and the Vikings.

When we got there the last of the Vikings fans were collecting their things, which included signs taped the wall that read "We Dat!", a play on the Saints' rallying cry, "Who Dat Said They Gon' Beat Them Saints?"

Saints fans had taken over both halves of the bar, but in the back room where Saints fans hold court each week, the scene was pandemonium. Everywhere people were dressed in gold and black, dancing to New Orleans rap that, trust me, you've never heard, but that everyone in that room knew ALL the words to.

Every now and then a really drunk person would come up to you to talk about how great it all was, and could you believe it? The Saints were in the Super Bowl?

(It got me thinking how great it would be if there were a Mets bar somewhere. I suppose out of towners have an advantage in that they NEED a place like Bar None to watch the Saints. Without it, there's nothing saying you'll get to watch that week's game (unless you've got the NFL Network), whereas for us, we can watch that night's game on SNY from the comfort of our homes day in and day out.)

It was great to see how excited those fans were. It's been said over and over again by now, but it really does seem that no team means more to its city than the Saints do (the Red Sox are probably contenders, but the Katrina element and the symbol that the Saints have become takes them to another level).

The Saints still have one more victory to get, and it'll be against a doozy of an opponent, that's for sure. But for one night, the New Orleans quarter of New York City had a night like it had never had before.

After a year of disappointment for the Mets, I was glad I got to be part of that type of excitement again.

- A.F.O.M.G.

A Rex Rx for the Mets?

With the Jets in the midst of a magical playoff run, the New York press has trained an adoring lens on the team's coach, Rex Ryan.

Hired after former Head Coach Eric Mangini was let go following a second straight playoff-less disappointing season, Ryan took over and let his voice be heard.

In his initial press conference, Ryan talked about meeting with President Obama during his first term in office; suggesting, that is, that the Jets, those perrennial losers, would be winning a Super Bowl some time in the next four seasons.

It was the kind of talk that hadn't been associated with the Jets in a very long time. They say it changed the culture around the team. Since then, Coach Rex has kept on talking, calling his team the favorite in games they had no business winning, penciling a Super Bowl parade onto the team's calendar.

Though they had an uneven regular season, the Jets defied the odds to make the playoffs, and have kept on winning since then.

It's raised the question in some minds as to whether or not a brash, talkative coach like Rex Ryan isn't exactly what the Mets need to reverse their culture of losing, too.

* * * * *

Here's the thing about Rex Ryan, and all other coaches for that matter: his style is only endearing for as long as his team continues to win.

No matter what happens this weekend, Rex Ryan has earned himself an offseason of positive press for taking a team with a rookie quarterback to the AFC Championship Game.

But what happens next year if Ryan keeps talking and the team regresses? His tough talk would grow old real fast. His constant jawing would be said to put undue pressure on his players. Their failure to respond to it would be taken as a sign that the coach had "lost the clubhouse".

From there, if you add on another disappointing season, then Rex Ryan is essentially Eric Mangini reincarnate.

* * * * *

At the end of the day, being respected by the fans and a media darling has very little to do with your style, and everything to do with whether you win or lose.

Rex Ryan could be the Joe Torre of football coaches and he'd be getting great press because his team has gone far in the playoffs.

Speaking of Joe Torre... look at the Mets. After the disastrous final season under the fiery Bobby Valentine, there was actually a time whne people thought a calm, strong/silent type like Art Howe, a Joe Torre type, was EXACTLY what the Mets needed.

Two years later, Howe was branded a complete disaster because his teams were always terrible. Performance, as always, trumped style.

* * * * *

I was a big Jerry Manuel fan when he first came in. Forget about everything else, he turned that 2008 team around and nearly led a tremendously flawed club to the playoffs.

Last year, of course, was a complete disaster, and Jerry deserved some of the blame. Obviously the injuries overtook everything else, but the team played sloppy baseball from start to finish. Images of Ryan Church missing third base were as characteristic of 2009 as Reyes or Delgado or Johan or anyone else going down with injury.

As such, since the season ended, there have been various calls that Manuel needs to be replaced.

The people making this argument say we need someone with more personality, someone who's gonna shake the malaise off of guys like Carlos "No Knees" Beltran. Many of them say we need a guy like Bobby V.

I'm for keeping Jerry Manuel, personally. But if we DO end up making a change, I submit that we don't need anybody who fits any kind of personality profile.

All we need is somebody who wins.

- A.F.O.M.G.