Pelfrey and Sosa and Pray We're Not Toasta?

1. The greatest pitching rotation of my lifetime—and if you're not of an age to remember Earl Weaver's greatest Oriole staffs, I suspect you'll second this without objection—was the Atlanta Braves' staff of the early 90's. 

Maddux, Glavine, Smoltz, and Avery: The Four Aces.  "Feared" wasn't even the right word for that pitching rotation.  Envied is the word. 

Everybody wanted four solid starters like that.  They had power, finesse, righties, and lefties...it was the perfect, scientifically-balanced starting rotation.

In retrospect, then, it was probably a little arrogant of me to say to a friend in the preseason that if Pedro Martinez stayed healthy, the Mets' rotation this year could beat it. 

I hasten to add, I said "If Pedro stays healthy", in tones suggesting it was just slightly less likely than peace in the Middle East. 

And with that small caveat granted, I think the remark was defensible as a bit of spring hyperbole: Pedro may be no mid-90s Greg Maddux, but Glavine, on the best day of his life, wasn't as dominant as Johan Santana. 

Oliver Perez may be more erratic than Smoltz, but John Maine would seem to have less flame-out potential than Avery. 

And if El Duque Hernandez got healthy-- a prospect just slightly more likely than peace in the Middle East-- the team would even have a fifth starter, a reliable iteration of which those Braves could never really claim.

Of course, I am still a goober.  Those Braves staffs weren't notable for how good they could have been if they'd stayed healthy—they were notable because they did stay healthy, year after year, in a manner that was, quite frankly, a little frightening, while potentially more talented staffs dropped like flies around them. 

It was all but unforgivably arrogant to compare a staff that hadn't worked an inning to that quartet, and if you're looking for the guy who jinxed the Mets' chances in 2008, it's probably me.

In my defense, we did get almost four innings out of Pedro before he broke down this season...

2. As a further objection, I think there should be some sort of bylaw enacted in the National League: If you're going to hit a game-winning home run off the New York Mets in 2008, I have to know your name.  How can you earn my everlasting enmity, otherwise?

I don't think this is too much to ask.  I'm not an uneducated fan.  I've even read a Baseball Prospectus or three in my time. 

Yet, I cannot identify more than six guys on this 2008 Marlins' team, and that makes it just awfully hard to curse them out when a guy like Robert Freaking Andino pops one in the bottom of the 10th.

Name tags, Florida.  A major-league journeyman or two.  Just promise me you'll think about it.

3. I finished my baseball viewing day by checking in on the Dodgers and Giants last night. 

It was a tight, low-scoring game, and I really have no idea who won. 

I do know that Vin Scully called it alone, sans color commentary, and if you haven't had the experience of listening to an old-pro announcer call a game without all the superfluous bells and whistles, well, you really must try it. 

I don't think you should call yourself a baseball fan if you can listen to Vin Scully calling a game and not want to smile.  He's my favorite announcer in the league today.

Spots 4 and 5 in this daily wrap-up are now reserved for Mike Pelfrey and Jorge Sosa, much to my dismay...