So according to the soon-to-be-today's Times, the Mets will figure out what to do with Heilman after soon-to-be-today's start. And Willie's not interested in sending Zambrano to the bullpen, even though in 2001 and 2002 he made nearly 70 appearances out of the pen. Curious, I'll grant you, but I'm having trouble getting up in arms about it. I don't think Minaya and Willie care that exiling Zambrano to the pen would be a back-page embarrassment and make everybody yell about Scott Kazmir again -- after all, one of the other possible outcomes is that Zambrano goes to the minors, which is even worse from a tabloid-avoidance perspective. This isn't their deal, for one, and anyway Kazmir's 0-4 with a 4.60 ERA. (I cursed him by making him a member of Jaison D'Etres.)

The visceral fan reaction here is that Zambrano should be sent down, released or shot. But actually I agree with Willie's dues-paying mentality here. It's wonderful that Aaron Heilman's made strides, but the idea that anyone would give a fig about Aaron Heilman being in the rotation, the bullpen, Norfolk or on the waiver wire would have reduced Metdom to horse laughs a month ago. He's earned the right to get a real look as a member of a major-league pitching staff, but that's all he's earned -- his big-league resume suggests promise at best, and while that's a lot better than not so long ago, it's still just promise. Zambrano clearly needs more than 10 minutes to fix -- How many minutes are we up to now, Dr. Peterson? -- but he's shown far better stuff than Heilman, his upside is obviously higher, and he's proven that he can succeed as a starting pitcher for stretches at a time. And where did he come from to make that case as a starter? The bullpen. Besides, while it's fun to twit Peterson, Zambrano's been obviously better since a 10-second conversation Peterson had with him on the mound in Milwaukee. He's still been annoying, goodness knows, working Leiteresque counts and letting a misplay unsettle him into a horrific inning, but at least to these eyes he's not the disaster he was.

(This is different from the idea of David Wright hitting eighth -- has that actually happened, by the way? There, Willie seemed to be hazing a young player who'd demonstrated he had better skills for hitting elsewhere in the order than those being pencilled in there, and whose attitude has always been above reproach. I still think Wright should be hitting second.)

Besides, it's May. There's time yet to settle Heilman/Zambrano/Ishii. I'm more concerned about the bullpen: I hope Scott Strickland's recalled and Manny Aybar dropped down the memory hole, particularly since it seems likely that we'll have a real long man out of the pen. I also wish they'd try anyone besides Nameless Koo in the dedicated-lefty slot, since he's been miserable at getting lefty hitters and helpless against righties.

What's that? We played a game today? Yeah, we did. One of those topsy-turvy affairs whose place in memory says a lot about what kind of non-baseball day you had. The Mets came from three runs down twice, Wright had a big day at the plate, Cammy made a great play in right, Matsui earned some redemption at the plate and in the field. After coming back to take the lead, Reyes made a moronic baserunning decision, we gagged on the chance to get insurance runs, Roberto Hernandez walked the leadoff hitter and paid for it, Beltran and Cammy failed to deliver, and one that should have been a thrilling W wound up a dispiriting L. Let's play two!

Maybe it was just the sunshine, but I choose to be inspired. Roberto got Edmonds and Pujols to hit weak little pops. They both fell in. It happens. Go get 'em tomorrow. And Aaron? No pressure.

Maybe this kangaroo court thing is apropos after all. Justice Glavine ruled in favor of targeting and hitting the inside corner for once and then sentenced the Cardinals to an hour-and-a-half of futile flailing, with no time off for good behavior. It was gratifying to watch, even though I still find myself desperately rooting for 24 Mets and simply trying to not root against the one who held court Friday night. Old story, but he's still Glavine. He and us, though, we're in business together, so for the good of the corporation, way to go, your, uh, honor.

I get cranky when I have to go more than 48 hours without a game, especially if the last one was a loss; imagine what I'm like all winter. I was still in low-seethe from Derrek Lee, and it was just a matter of when before distaste for the Cubs morphed into detest for the Cards. No offense to Will who sounds like a stand-up (and get-pelted) guy, especially with the Ankiel homage. Warn me if you ever plan to introduce us and I'll dig out ROJAS 51.

For a game I love so much, I do spend a lot of time hating. Catch me on some stray afternoon when the Cardinals are two months away on the schedule and I'll be like, yeah, Stan Musial, what a history, et al. This wasn't one of those afternoons. I hate the Cardinals. I hate the Cubs. I hate the Braves (stop telling me they're not so bad). I stick up for the National League at every turn, yet I despise 15 of its 16 franchises. And there are days I'm not so crazy about us.

As for the Junior Circuit, Chokeland and Seattle are conspiring to ruin a good bit. The Collapse-O-Meter is rusting from disuse, but I have faith. And hate. Oh, lots of it where grumble, grumble is concerned.

I'll tell ya what I do like. I like a night like Friday night when not only do the Mets win in record time (I dozed off after the first Floydian rip and was shocked that it got so late so soon), but the rest of the National League East cooperates as well and technology allows me to enjoy it as it happens.

I began to watch the Braves and Dodgers on TBS when it occurred to me that I could turn on XM and instead indulge in Vin Scully for a few innings. Man, that guy can do baseball. I didn't love him on NBC in the '80s but on the radio he's everything he's cracked up to be. He works alone, you know. Seeing as how the other Dodger voice belongs to Charlie Steiner, you can hear why. Anyway, Vin told pleasant stories about Horacio Ramirez and Bobby Cox (which is tough to do), gave updates on Eric Gagne's rehab and made the early innings sail by all too quickly.

Then he left to work the TV side which left me to fiddle with the dials and skip among West Coast transmissions, settling eventually on the Padres and Marlins. The San Diego announcer -- Jerry Coleman's homer of a partner -- kept promising us Hell's Bells and Trevor Time, and Trevor didn't disappoint. Marlins lose!

Back on TBS, the Brave booth was bursting with self-congratulation for having suggested Adam LaRoche hit a grand slam right before he actually did it. This gave the Braves a 4-2 lead in the eighth which looked solid...until Milton Bradley, unofficial spokesperson for MLB's Mental Health Awareness Month, hit his own grand slam. The Bravescasters went quiet. Braves lose! Combined with the Nationals' loss, we picked up ground on everybody, moved into third, and sit only 2-1/2 from the lead.

That's what I like.