People ask me what I do on an off-day when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for later in the spring. *

Off-days suck. They suck anytime. You've lost three of five, you've lost nine straight, you've finished the season having lost 90+ games and nobody particularly wanted the caps thrown into the stands, doesn't matter: An off-day is still howlingly empty, a void that's never full no matter how much fidgeting and resentment you pour into it. But off-days suck even more when you're playing well: When you're getting the bounces and the calls, the big hits and the little hits and the shouldn't-be-hits, an off-day is like someone pinching you and yanking you out of a sweet, gentle dream. And most of the time that nice dream isn't reclaimable when you smack back into the pillow.

So an off-day when we've just steamrolled the Cincinnati Reds? With the Yankees coming to visit? Thanks, schedule makers. It sucks on so many levels. It sucks to have an entire day of fretting about the Yankees, who are hotter than Newsweek's e-mail right now, without even the decent distraction of an old-fashioned National League game. It sucks to have a deep-breath day before a 10-day stretch that'll tell us something about this team and 2005 -- better to stay unconscious and keep taking the field than pause for unhelpful reflection. It sucks to have to fill a day with worries about our marquee free agent, lightning rod, spiritual leader, and newly beloved el jefe -- I don't wanna talk about Pedro's hip or the cortisone shot la la la I'm not listening to you. And most basically and perhaps even most importantly, it sucks to know a warm spring night is going to roll around with no baseball game to cradle, consume and consider. What am I supposed to do, go see Revenge of the Sith? Oh yeah, I'm also a Star Wars geek, I probably should go see Revenge of the Sith.

(Speaking of Revenge of the Sith, the only reason I haven't chastised you for the karmic poking of a wasps' nest that was the Collapse-o-Meter is that I know you've been lying awake nights regretting it on your own. Well, that and the fact that I was enjoying it too much. We Yankee haters are like sleepaway-camp counselors in a slasher movie -- we see the escaped lunatic plunge into the old well with a pitchfork bisecting him and we head back to our cabins for a night of hard-earned rest. And then ... NOOOOOO!!!!!! Will we never learn?)

By the way, the Reds are terrible. They're pathetic in the old sense of the word, "arousing or capable of arousing sympathetic sadness and compassion." Right now they're the knobby-kneed nine-year-old in right field praying the ball won't get hit to him, then closing his eyes when it inevitably is. (I know of what I speak: One horrible evening in 1978 I floundered after a ball hit over my head in right field, grabbed it, wheeled, fired, fell down and extracted my face from the clover to see I'd thrown it kind of near the bewildered center fielder. I wish I were exaggerating even a little bit. Ich bin ein Red.) The Reds make physical mistakes, mental mistakes, get screwed on calls, the whole bad-team shebang. They look like us after The Trade. And Dave Miley is, like, so fired -- he's already doing that drowning-manager thing of alternately flying into scary rages and staring out at the field in numb disbelief. Don't worry Dave, it'll be over soon.

Of course, I wish we played them again tomorrow, instead of not again until 2006. I wish we played anybody tomorrow. Let's play one!

* Apologies to 1962 New York Mets coach Rogers Hornsby. I hear he also played for the Cardinals or something.

Didja see the Mets game Tuesday night?
Yeah.
Who won?
Mets did.
Great! Who pitched?
Kaz...
Cuz I wanna know. Who pitched?
Kaz...
Like I said, cuz I wanna know.
You're not listening closely. Kaz!
Cuz I wanna know!
Kaz...he pitched.
Cuz who pitched?
Kaz!
Cuz without knowing who pitched, I don't really know what happened.
I know this is a stretch, but the pitcher's name was Kaz. Kaz Ishii.
Oh. How'd he do?
Kaz?
Yeah.
He pitched well.
Did he pitch long?
Yeah.
Did he pitch in the ninth?
No.

Who pitched in the ninth?
Koo.
I'm asking you as nicely as I can.
Koo.
I'll whisper softly: Who pitched in the ninth?
And I'm telling you who!
Who?
Koo.
You sure?
Yeah. Koo.
OK, I'll try to be a little more breathy. Mmmmm, baby, who pitched in the ninth? Ooooh, you're so sexy.
What the hell are you talking about?
I'm talking about you. You're sweet. Mmmmm...say, is this really necessary?
No!
Then why do I have to coo?
I don't want you to coo!
So why did you tell me to coo?
I didn't!
You said coo!
I said Koo!
Yeah!
I was telling you the pitcher was Koo!
Koo?
The pitcher's name was Koo. Dae-Sung Koo.
Oh. How'd he do?
Koo?
Yeah.
He ran into a little bit of trouble.

Did he finish the game?
No.
Who did?
Loop.
Loop?
Loop.
If you insist.
Yeah, I do.
Didja see the Mets game Tuesday night?
Yeah.
Who won?
Mets did.
Great! Who pitched?
Kaz...
Cuz I wanna know. Who pitched?
Kaz...wait a second!
What?
I already told you all that.
I know.
Then why did you go back the beginning of this conversation?
Because you said loop.
I know I said Loop.
OK. Didja see the Mets game Tuesday night?
Yeah.
Who won?
Mets did.
Great! Who pitched?
Kaz...WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
I asked you who finished the game and you told me loop.
Yeah.
You acknowledge that?
Yeah.
Absolutely sure?
Yeah!
Fine. Then can I ask you something?
Go ahead.
Who finished the game?
Loop.
Here we go again...Didja see the Mets game Tuesday night?
Look, I don't know what your problem is, but I'm going to tell you everything you need to know right now, so pay attention: Kaz Ishii started for the Mets. He pitched well and he pitched long, but he didn't finish the game. Dae-Sung Koo came on to start the ninth but allowed two Reds to reach base. He was relieved by Braden Looper and Loop finished the game and recorded a save.

Oh. Why didn't you say so?
He didn't pitch.
Who didn't pitch?
Seo.
What?
You asked why I didn't say Seo.
Yeah.
And I'm telling you.
What are you telling me?
That he didn't pitch.
Who?
Seo.
That's rather dismissive.
Seo...he didn't pitch.
And, between you and me, a little rude.
Listen, Seo didn't pitch.
Who so didn't pitch?
I think you're confused.
Well, you're not helping.
Help me help you. What do you want to know?
Just that what you're telling me is the truth.
Of course it is.
Then, truthfully, who were those pitchers who you said pitched in the game?
Kaz, Koo and Loop...not Seo.
Then why did you say they pitched?
They did.
But you said not so.
That's right, not Seo.
Can you be honest with me for once?
I am being honest.
You are?
Yeah.
Kaz pitched?
Yeah.
Koo pitched?
Yeah.
Loop pitched?
Yeah.
That's what I wanted to know.
Well, that's what you should know. Those guys pitched.
Those guys pitched?
Not Seo.
Then who did pitch?
I'll spell it out for you one more time.
Please.
Kaz Ishii started.
Got it.
Dae-Sung Koo pitched in the ninth.
Got it.
Braden Looper finished the game.
Got it.
Not Seo.
Why are you in such denial?
Denial? The only thing I want to deny is that I know you. What's wrong with you?
Wrong with me? I asked you who pitched, you name three pitchers for me and then you tell me not so.
Yeah.
Then what am I supposed to do?
What's the big deal? Jae Seo didn't pitch for the Mets Tuesday night.
Jae Seo?
Yeah. Jae Seo's not even on the 25-man roster.

Aaaah! I think I understand.
Good. Why don't you tell me what happened in the game?
You sure?
Yeah.
You really sure?
Yeah.
You absolutely sure?
I'm absolutely sure. Go ahead already.
OK. Kaz started.
Uh-huh...
He pitched well but didn't finish the game.
Uh-huh...
Koo came on in the ninth.
Uh-huh...
But Koo couldn't get the final outs.
Uh-huh...
That meant Loop had to.
Uh-huh...
And he did.
Uh-huh...
Plus, Jae Seo wasn't involved in the least little bit.
I think you've finally grasped it.
In fact, Jae Seo was entirely superfluous to this little dialogue of ours.
Perhaps, but the important thing is you nailed it.
I did?
That you did.
At long last, I am accurate?
That you are.
And I am correct?
That you are as well.

So, all in all, you would have to say I am right.
No, he's on third.

Good night to be a Kaz. Ishii was good and Matsui was better, writing a storybook finish.

I shouldn't feel so confident so soon after losing five of seven, but I went about various household chores waiting more or less calmly for us to come back and grab this one. Maybe it was just not believing in Ramon Ortiz (who possibly had his Paul Wilson In Wrigley moment), or figuring the Reds would find a way to screw it up. I choose to believe it was remembering that among its quirks good bad and infuriating, our little team has a penchant for drama. But Matsui? In front of his tormentors? That's asking for a lot of drama.

(Additional tip of the cap to Looper, who came in looking PO'ed, threw bullets, and then offered Ed Coleman an uncharacteristically blunt and therefore interesting postgame interview. Yes, he hears fans boo and no, he wasn't too happy with Willie starting the inning with Nameless Koo. Him and several hundred thousand other Met fans.)

Oh, and the Mike DiFelice era began. This man has a ridiculous career, to which he can now add a one-assumes-brief tenure as a Met backup catcher. We've sure specialized in those over the last 10 years: Charlie Greene? Jorge Fabregas? Rick Wilkins? Gary Bennett? Joe DePastino? Tom Wilson? I'd half-suspect these guys are all the same guy, except that Gary Bennett did become a real catcher, Jorge Fabregas gave the most-irritating interview in the history of WFAN (he answered every question put to him with "No doubt about it..."), and Joe DePastino was tearing it up as a Long Island Duck before getting signed by the Blue Jays earlier this month. Amazingly enough, as a Duck he was a teammate of ... Kevin Baez. Now that's love of the game.