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Jose: Know what you can do with that batting title?

EDITORIAL: Jose Reyes is as miserable an excuse for a pro athlete as I’ve seen.

Photo Credit: Cliffview Pilot
Photo Credit: Cliffview Pilot

How do you spell loser? Spot this guy the

I am a lifelong Mets fan. It hurt bad when Tom Seaver was traded, when Molina’s home run cleared the fence, when Soscia’s homer changed a season, when Timo Perez jogged around the bases, when the great collapse a few years back brought such embarrassment.

But on the final day of the Mets’ 2011 season, the organization hit a new low. If ever there was good reason for an asterisk next to a record, this is it.

Making it even more galling: It happened 70 years to the day that Ted Williams famously went 6-for-8 in a doubleheader on the final day of the 1941 regular season to become the last major leaguer to hit .400. Going into the day, Williams could have sat out with his historic achievement safely tucked away.

But no: He played BOTH games.

After bunting for a single today — how low can he get? — Reyes begged out of the game, right then and there. Didn’t even stay in to run the bases. His only concern was trying to preserve what might be a National League batting crown.

Jerry DeMarco Publisher/Editor



(I rooted last night for Ryan Braun of the Milwaukee Brewers to get three hits tonight to pull ahead of Reyes — and then to remain in the game and get at least one more. I also watched onetimet Met Marco Scutaro play an outstanding shortstop to try and will the Red Sox into the post-season.)

Reyes, on the other hand, can take a hike. And after what Collins did, allowing the little princess to sit, I’d have no trouble with him following close behind.

Collins CRIED during his post-game news conference as he tried to rationalize what he knew in his heart was a gutless decision to let Reyes call the tune.

Where’s the little girl, Terry? Where’ the little girl??? Ahhhh … There she is.

(Not for anything, but did I miss a meeting? When did MEN stop playing this game?)

This is inexcusable. On a team that needed him to play over his head to even have a chance, Reyes not only got hurt — again — but stayed out an extended length of time while his team was still technically in the wild-card race.

By quitting, Reyes basically said he couldn’t care less about the paying fans. If folks didn’t consider him a selfish buffoon before, this should nail it.

Instead of a standing O — which, for the life of me, I can’t figure out — the fans should have reworded the familiar “Jose, Jose” chant: “No way, no way. No way, no way.”

What’s more, I’d like to see ownership have the stones to fine him AND Collins for today’s humiliation. Make the total the amount spent on tickets, parking and concessions by the loyal, faithful fans who turned out on a weekday afternoon to watch their out-of-it team find yet ANOTHER way to embarrass the organization.

See, if Reyes leaves, Collins will  have to manage a group of players who themselves had to be shaking their heads. The bench wasn’t filled with vets who’ve flirted with batting titles. It was loaded with youngsters getting a lesson from the man who is supposed to be their leader.

Hey, Terry: You got an entire off-season to grow a pair.

As for you, Jose: 

From Day One, the New York Mets organization treated you like gold. You had probably the classiest ballplayer in all of baseball providing a daily example for you right across town. But at 28 years old and with nine years of pro experience, you used the grand stage to tell the fans who supported your nonsense to piss off.

You disrespected them. You disrespected your teammates and your organization. You disrespected baseball itself. I wouldn’t be surprised if you missed the all-out, hard-played professional baseball that made last night’s epic night so memorable. My guess is you were watching the meaningless Brewers game, rooting against Braun. You probably did that annoying little samba of yours after you clinched the batting title.

Time to do that girlie dance somewhere else, Bozo.

You could do genuine Mets fans a favor by going to another National League team. Then we can head to CitiField next season and root for you to finally tear that balking hamstring.

Better yet, we can watch you cry like a baby when you do.

Adios, loser.



 


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