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[Mike Francesa and Chris “Mad Dog” Russo in full 1990s WFAN mode]
MIKE: Alright, lemme tell ya somethin’, folks — the Mets were hopin’ to get back to that championship form from 1921 to 1923. You remember those teams — loaded, clutch, gritty. But this? This was not the way to do it. Not even close. This was ugly!
MAD DOG: UGLY! OH MY GOODNESS, MIKEY! FIFTEEN TO THREE!! FIFTEEN!! YOU CAN’T GIVE UP FIFTEEN RUNS IN A PLAYOFF GAME, MIKE!! IT’S A DISGRACE!!
MIKE: You can’t. You absolutely can’t. That’s a no-show. You spot yourself a 3-0 lead in the second inning, you got some momentum, Huerta hits the two-run homer, you’re thinkin’ “okay, here we go, Mets baseball.” Then the bottom half comes — boom! Six runs. Game over.
MAD DOG: SIX RUNS, MIKEY!! And that’s not even the worst of it! They give up four more the next inning! I mean, at that point, I’m lookin’ at the scoreboard like I’m watchin’ a football game! 10-3! What are we doin’?!
MIKE: Peters? Couldn’t get out of the second inning. Couldn’t get out of the second inning! Diaz comes in, walks four guys in one inning. That’s not postseason baseball, that’s a fire drill.
MAD DOG: And how ‘bout Milwaukee?! Give ‘em credit! Cesar Malagon — FOUR hits, five RBIs, home run, triple shy of the cycle. The guy’s playin’ like he’s Babe Ruth in a beer commercial!
MIKE: Yeah, the Brewers — listen, they came to play. Malagon was terrific. Garcia, Tidwell, Dominguez — all hit. That lineup was relentless. Eighteen hits. Eighteen!
MAD DOG: And this is a Mets team, Mike, that’s supposed to have experience. They’ve been there! They won titles! And they come out like this? You’d think they hadn’t played baseball since the Hoover Administration!
MIKE: Look, you can’t win in October if you kick the ball around — three errors, sloppy defense. The pitching’s a mess, the bullpen’s gassed by the third inning. You do that against a team like Milwaukee, you’re not comin’ back.
MAD DOG: Not a chance! And I don’t wanna hear “it’s just Game One.” No, no, no! Game One sets the tone! You can’t get smoked by twelve runs and say “we’ll be fine.” YOU’RE NOT FINE!!
MIKE: (chuckling) Dog, you’re not wrong. If the Mets don’t bounce back tomorrow, this thing’s over before it starts.
MAD DOG: Over! Done! Kaput! Pack the bags, boys, go back to Queens!
MIKE: Fifteen-three. An absolute embarrassment. You wanna get back to championship form? Start by not losin’ like that.
MAD DOG: HA HA HA! Fifteen to three, Mikey!! FIFTEEN!!!
MIKE: (deadpan) Yeah, Dog. I saw the box score. I can read.
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