Amazing Reyes, How Sweet the Sound

Work for me is a Yankee-dominated environment, like most everywhere on earth, so when Mets news passes through the grapevine of orange-and-blue-bleeding diehards it does so barely above a whisper. To speak of the Mets at full volume is to encourage a bevy of snide remarks from enemies within earshot, or worse, a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. It has gotten to the point where we are able to communicate volumes by minutely changing the set of our scowl, and a finger drawn across the throat can variously mean "Glavine is starting today", "Piazza's groin!!!?!", or "Good morning, how is your wife?".

The news today was so horrible that all skulking was forgotten, and a compatriot blurted it from across the room, his expression putting me in mind of a kid on a corner hawking newspapers whose headlines announced that he was adopted.

"We're trading Reyes for Soriano! We're trading Reyes! Can you believe it?"

For a second, I could. Not a split second, either, but a full blown second during which my stomach dropped out and my gorge rose higher than the pitch count of a Marlins prospect. Then I realized I wasn't a Red Sox owner and should stop getting dramatic and throwing hissy fits every time I heard that something didn't go my team's way. I asked him where he'd gotten the scoop, praying for his source to be Gammons. When I heard it was radio, I wasn't sure what to think. I contemplated swearing vigorously. Then I realized I wasn't Kyle writing a blog post solely designed to attract new readers by making a Google search for "Heater Mitts Sucks [unprintable]" point to our site. I calmed down and took a listen of my own.

Just my luck: ESPN Radio was talking about Gonzaga, which I assumed to be like the tallest mountain in Japan or something, so I had to flip to my favorite New York duo since Roberto Alomar and Rey Ordonez skipped town.

The Mad Dog was arguing with Mets callers.

"Soriano hits .300, forty homers, forty steals, 110 RBI, 120 runs. You can't tell me Reyes is going to turn into that."

"Sure Soriano is twenty-eight years old. But Reyes could be older than twenty. You know all these Dominican players, when they make it big, lie about their ages."

One caller compared Reyes to a very young Jeter, which was enough to rouse Mike Francesa's face out his own ass long enough for him to rumble, "What? So now Reyes is Jeter? Come on! Give me a break!"

Thankfully a news update broke in at that point, announcing that Fred Wilpon and Jim Duquette had issued a statement completely denying the trade rumor. "No way Jose," Wilpon said, probably without smiling.

I read later in this article on the Mets' official site that he made a point of going out to speak to Reyes personally. I liked that. I liked Reyes’ response, indicating a desire to stay with the Mets for a long time, even more.

He's going to be great, he's very young, he's cheap, and we're not winning a game over eighty even if we're lucky this season.

Even so, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to score a couple of seats in which several co-workers and I can watch the most promising ballplayer in New York and name him as such without fear of termination.