Well, hell. You beat me to it. But since we're in agreement, let's walk down memory lane for a moment.

This is from Keith Hernandez's excellent If at First..., one of the better year-in-the-life books written by a pro athlete. It's from the 1986 chapter, found in the paperback edition. I've been thinking about it for a couple of days.

After we beat Montreal two out of three games our second trip in there, in early August, Backman snarled, "They're buried."

"Hey, Wally, cool it," I urged him. "That'll just steam them."

"Tough," he snapped.

August, June.

1986, 2006.

Doesn't matter.

They're buried.

I'm going to Friday night's game against the Orioles. I have three standing ovations planned.

One will be for the home team, returning to its headquarters office after the road trip from heaven.

One will be for Melvin Mora. It will be his first appearance at Shea since he was traded away in 2000. He was one of my favorites long ago and I always like to let my favorites from long ago know that I haven't forgotten them.

And a completely non-sarcastic one is reserved for the pitching coach of the Baltimore Orioles, Leo Mazzone. THANK YOU for taking your current position. THANK YOU for leaving your former employer. THANK YOU for packing up your genius and leaving none of it behind in Atlanta.

Leo Mazzone's in Maryland, which means the lights have gone out in Georgia. And that is why I am as sure as one can be without being totally sure about anything in life (a blanket "just-in-case" for injuries, lightning, falling objects from the sky...because you truly never know) that the Mets will win the National League East.

Mike's Mets had the headline of the week this morning: Things To Do in Atlanta When You're Dead. It's not like the Braves "faithful" really put baseball games high on their agenda to begin with, but I anticipate backyard barbecues and trips to The World of Coca-Cola will increase exponentially down Peachtree way over the next few months. And October? Well, I don't know who's going to win the Wild Card, but let's just say Turner Field appears available for dances, Youth for Christ jamborees and rock 'n' roll shows when Games One and Two of the National League Division Series will be going on elsewhere. That thing the Braves do in the Eastern Division? It's done.

Any team can get ungodly hot for a few days as we did in Arizona and continued to be for the first two games in Philadelphia. But wins like today's, the one that sealed the sweep and, for my two bits, the fate of the Phillies, are what separates the top of a division from the remainder of a division. Forget Trachsel's serviceable six innings (subtract Pat Burrell and they'd have been tremendous) and forget the four-run first if you can, even though four-run firsts have become a Met trademark. Dig on this sequence from the top of the fifth when the Mets were leading 4-2:

• Reyes doubles.
• Chavez bunts him to third.
• Beltran drives him home with a fly to right.

There. That's it. That's the beauty of these Mets. That's what I like to call the Build-A-Run Workshop. During a pause in our ongoing offensive onslaught — I was a bit nervous that Lidle had calmed down since Wright's three-run blast in the first and that Burrell hadn't yet been arrested on charges of cruelty to Met pitchers — we manufactured a score when we needed one. Nothing fancy; everybody did what he had to do. Jose hit and ran. Endy executed. Carlos B. drove a ball.

5-2...boom! Those actions provided Trachsel enough breathing room to give into Burrell when it got 5-4. From there, we were revisited by our old friend, the invincible back end of our bullpen. Remember that? Remember Heilman, Sanchez and Wagner from early in the season? Remember when we played one-run games and usually won them? It was the big three from the seventh, eighth and ninth innings who made the difference.

Their role has been diminished of late. The games haven't been close, so it's been starters and long/middle relievers keeping opponents at bay while our ridiculously awesome lineup took center stage. Yet it was somehow appropriate on the afternoon that we clinched all there is to clinch in the middle of June that we resorted to our core competency as the difference-maker.

It was more than competent.

Whether it was a restored arm angle for Aaron, necessary rest for Duaner or mental replenishment for Billy (those phans really got to him, huh?), it worked. Nine Phillies up, nine Phillies down in the final three innings. Those guys can hit, but they didn't. With every opportunity to pull one of those patented Vet/Cit comebacks on the Mets — for whom a one-run lead has never seemed to be enough in that part of town — the home team couldn't do spit.

The Phillies may rally for a run at the Wild Card, but the East is out of their reach. The Braves have enough talent to find second place and make it count, but Leo Mazzone is in Baltimore and Roger McDowell, whom we'll always love, ain't no Leo Mazzone. The Braves' viability in 2006, from what I've seen, hinged on their ability to outlast the Marlins whom they beat in three walkoff heartbreakers last month. Last night, the Marlins turned the tables on the Braves, making Atlanta look like the all-rookie, all-thumbs, all-out-of-their-element pretenders. It wasn't the first time the Braves looked that way either. The Nationals? There's only so much Alfonso Soriano can do before he's traded.

The Mets have no genuine competition in their division. Now that I've said that, those words are on my head. I'll accept them. It doesn't necessarily mean we'll steamroll through The Ted on our next trip south. It doesn't mean Jakey & The Fish won't annoy us as they gain experience. It doesn't mean Frank Robinson won't order some green kid to throw at one of our heads. And it doesn't mean the Phillies or Braves won't reappear amid some October situation. But I don't see any of these teams being a problem in the big picture, the one that's developed over the course of 162 games. I only see the National League East title back where it originated in 1969, back where it hasn't been since 1988, back where it belongs.

I see no competition from our competitors and I see no letdown from us. Again, allowing for ugly acts of nature or a horrible two-bus pileup, this team, our team, gives me no reason to doubt them. What if one or two of the pitchers has a poor stretch? We've already persevered through that sort of bump in the hump. What if one of the big bats slumps? We've lived through that, too. What if the bullpen...seen it happen and survived quite nicely.

I don't shout out loud proclamations of practical infallibility lightly. I have the longest, deepest, most tortured memory of any Mets fan you've ever Met, and my catalogue of things that have gone wrong can fill three Camden Yards warehouses. But I also remember what it was like to know that things were going to go well. I remember September and October 1969, culminating in the first time we played the Orioles for real. I remember the stretch drive of 1973. I remember all of 1986 and the awesome parts of 1988 and how we took off in 1999 and how we did what we had to do in 2000.

I also remember 1970, 1971, 1972, 1975, 1976, 1978, 1980, 1981, 1982, 1984, 1985, 1987, 1989, 1990, 1991, 1992, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998, 2001, 2002, 2004 and 2005. Those were seasons when I thought — sometimes for a moment, sometimes for six months — that something capital-S Special might happen. It didn't. I know capital-D Disappointment. I know all about tempting fate and not wanting to say too much and not wanting to feel too happy only to regret something too awful to contemplate.

I know that's not the case this year.

I know we're going somewhere we haven't been in quite a while.

I know we're gonna win something we haven't won in quite a while.

And in the name of the Casey, the Gil and the Holy Murph, I know that from now until the end of the regular season — at least — that they're not gonna get us.

First pitch of the rest of our lives, 7:10 Friday night. Stand up and cheer.

For the first time in public, I will now reveal my theme song for the 2006 Mets. I've been using it in my head since Saturday but have hesitated to mention it here because of loads of bad precedent where me and adopted Mets theme songs are concerned.

But bad precedent has left the building. Just like the Phillies' chances of overtaking us, just like the Braves' divisional streak, just like any doubt I had that the New York Mets are on their way to greater and greater things.

From the summer of 2003 — though far more appropriate to the baseball summer of 2006 — I give you t.A.T.u.

Not gonna get us
They're not gonna get us
Not gonna get us

Starting from here, let's make a promise
You and me, let's just be honest
We are gonna run, nothing can stop us
Even the night, that falls all around us

Soon there'll be laughter and voices
Beyond the clouds over the mountains
We'll run away on roads that are empty
Lights from the airfield shining upon you

Nothing can stop this, not now I love you
They're not gonna get us
They're not gonna get us
Nothing can stop this, not now I love you
They're not gonna get us
They're not gonna get us
They're not gonna get us
They are not gonna get us

We'll run away, keep everything simple
Night will come down, our guardian angel
We rush ahead, the crossroads are empty
Our spirits rise they're not gonna get us

My love for you, always forever
Just you and me, all else is nothing
Not going back, not going back there
They don't understand
They don't understand us

Not gonna get us
Not gonna get us

Nothing can stop us, not now I love you
They're not gonna get us
They are not gonna get us
Nothing can stop this, not now I love you
They're not gonna get us
They're not gonna get us
They're not gonna get us
They're not gonna get us

Time's up. Pencils down. Please pass your papers forward.

Let me look these over...hmmm...no...no...NO.

Class, the Regents is coming up next week and this practice test indicates to me that none of you are ready. I'm not going to embarrass anybody by name, but for the good of everybody, I'm going to read aloud some excerpts from your essays and discuss why they are wrong.

"The Mets won their seventh game in a row ON THE ROAD last night." Now, can anybody tell me what's wrong with that sentence? Anybody? We should all know by now that the New York Mets rarely win seven games in a row at all and virtually NEVER do so on the road. The Mets are traditionally a very mediocre road club.

"With the win, the Mets raised their mark on the road trip to 8-1." Again, that would be impossible given what we just went over.

"The Mets began the road trip by taking two out of three in Los Angeles and then sweeping four in Arizona..." Class, what did I tell you about injecting fantasy into your essays? These have to be supported by fact. The Mets do NOT go to the West Coast and enjoy that kind of success.

"...before taking the first two games in Philadelphia, 9-7 and 9-3." This shows not only a poor grasp of the subject matter, but little relation to reality. The Mets wouldn't travel all the way across the country as is suggested here and score that many runs, even in that ballpark.

"The first-place Mets..." Please, students, ground your work in probabilities, not wishful thinking.

"...opened up an 8-1/2 game lead..." I'm sure you mean "closed to within an 8-1/2 game deficit".

"...on the Phillies." What's wrong with this passage? Anyone? That's right, it doesn't mention the Braves. The Braves are ALWAYS the first-place team. This whole paragraph needs rewriting.

"The Mets jumped on losing pitcher Brett Myers right away." You have to refer to Brett Myers as a winner and explain how he beat them as per usual.

"Rain fell on Citizens Bank Park, interrupting the game while the Mets built up a large lead..." You can't use the word "interrupting" when you mean "postponing". They're not synonyms. We all should know by now that the rain does not cooperate with the Mets in Philadelphia. I mean if that's your proposition, that the Mets were actually winning in the first few innings against Brett Myers, which can't possibly be right.

Here's something that looks promising: "The only problem the Mets faced was when rookie Lastings Milledge did not run hard on a fly ball to right that was mishandled by Bobby Abreu…" Well, that part is wrong, since Bobby Abreu is a Gold Glove fielder. But a Mets rookie not running hard is correct. Let's read the rest of the sentence.

"...and Milledge was thrown out at home." Good! Good use of fact.

"However, the incident had little effect on the outcome of the game."

No, no, NO! When a Met rookie doesn't hustle and is thrown out at the plate, it turns the entire game around. People, we spent a week studying the Timo Perez chapter. Frankly, I expect better from you.

I don't see anything in anybody's essay about how Chase Utley broke the Mets' heart. Nothing about Jimmy Rollins running wild. No Pat Burrell home run. Not even a big pinch-extra-base-hit for David Dellucci. And where's the climax in which a Mets reliever comes in and gives away the winning run? Very sloppy work, class.

And what are these references to "41-23"? This may not be a math class, but you have to be accurate when using numbers. How is it possible that all of you made a 10-game error? Perhaps the Mets are 31-33. But how am I to believe they're EIGHTEEN GAMES over .500?

Did anybody get this essay right? I'm looking through your papers...everybody got a hit...everybody scored a run...the bullpen was nearly untouched...the Mets score at will...the Mets make great plays...the Mets pitch…the Mets win…the Mets have the best record in the baseball...the Mets appear to be the best team in baseball...

Class, this is extremely disappointing. The academic year is coming to an end and I thought we had made some real progress on the subject of the Mets. We are going to have to really hunker down and review the material once more. Let's open our textbooks again. I'll just grab my teacher's edition here, the one with the answer key...

Wait a second. This is an OLD version of the book. These answers are out of date. This text isn't applicable at all to the Mets we're studying now. Everything you learned about them before June 2006 has been rendered invalid. The Mets have rewritten what it means to play textbook baseball.

Class dismissed.

The Mets beat the Phillies silly! Survived a rain delay before things were official, the short porch and the Satanic ministrations of Angel Hernandez! Thrived under those conditions, even!

Hush.

The final West Coast swing of the year, a harsh road trip with a jaunt to Philly as a chaser, ends tomorrow and the worst we can do is 8-2!

Shhhh.

We're 8 1/2 games ahead of Philadelphia and 12 ahead of Atlanta!

Nuh! Don't say nothin'.

We're 41-23, 18 games over .500!

Bite your tongue.

The only teams to reach 40 wins faster were the 1986 and 1988 squads!

Inside voices, please.

On this trip we've outscored our opponents 73-35 and blasted out 108 hits!

You can whisper. We're right here.

The last time we didn't score in the first? June 6th! I can barely remember June 6th!

Yes. We know. Shhh.

But...but...but....

I know. Listen. Hear how quietly I'm talking?

Yes.

But you can still hear me, right?

Yes.

OK. Listen. I'm going to say something. The New York Mets are the best baseball team on the planet.

YES!

Shhh. No need to shout. Can you say what I just told you? But quietly this time.

No need to --

No, you incredible goof. The thing before that.

Oh. The New York Mets are the best baseball team on the planet.

That's right. Good night.