Flesh & Blood: Day 7

Posted by Bob Greenberger on October 31, 2006

When last we visited the Predators, I was working with an outline from my partner in crime, Mike Friedman. He subsequently took my expansion of his two-page premise and expanded things even further.

However, when I received his next draft, nothing I had added remained. This had me confused. Since he was unreachable during the day, I fretted over whether or not we were out of synch or I misunderstood something. When we finally spoke last Wednesday, he was dumbstruck, not realizing what had happened. We went back through the drafts and figured out where we were and where we needed to go. Once that call was done, I was feeling much more secure about the whole thing.

And I began to write.

As of today, I’m about 8000 words into the book, completing two chapters. I just sent them off to Mike for his review.

The other thing I sent him was the Scorecard. As written, the outline only really named the protagonist and the antagonist with no physical description. Both characters had friends, associates, lawyers, etc. that needed names, personalities and descriptions. As I’ve been introducing them, I’ve been cutting and pasting the descriptions into a separate document for easy reference, especially for Mike who will no doubt season them to his taste.

This is a new step in the process for me. Usually the previous collaborations were set in a universe where we both knew the shorthand. This is new territory for us both so I figure the more reference maps, the better.

I also found giving the characters distinctive voices easier than some other works so I feel pretty good about this. I’ve written just a little with the Predators, to date, so am still getting a feel for them, but note I’ve automatically adjusted how I wrote those scenes.

I’ll be keeping you posted on the progress.

The Prime Time Season so Far

Posted by Bob Greenberger on October 30, 2006

OK, it’s a given that I have now and have always watched way too much television. Deb never ceases to be amazed by my encyclopedic recall of shows, and their channel and airtime dating back to childhood. There are few things we like doing better then settling in on the couch and watching some television after work or a long day of doing stuff around the house.

We’ve been so busy this fall, though, we haven’t even seen everything we wanted and there are numerous programs I want to see that Deb doesn’t so they have to be fit in here and there. Thank goodness for the DVR, which has transformed our lives. First of all, we miss nothing and secondly, by zipping through credits, titles and commercials, most shows are over in less than 45 minutes.

We are keeping caught up on most shows, but haven’t even started season three of Lost or sampled Six Degrees or The Nine. And no doubt there are other shows people recommend but haven’t engaged either one of us to sample let alone add to the regular rotation.

Here, though, are some thoughts on the season to date:

WAIT! There is more to read… read on »

Not Done Yet

Posted by Bob Greenberger on October 26, 2006

On Monday, I stood before the RTM and said we needed to make sure the job got done right before passing an ordinance. I was even quoted in the local paper saying that, and I said that knowing full well I had three ordinances pending in my sub-committee. As a result, despite my best hopes, last night was not out final meeting.

Four of us gathered last night and the consensus started with no one wanting to vote and approve the ordinances without Harry Ackley, our fifth, in attendance. Paul Fattibene, the attorney among the five of us, took my words to heart and presented a stripped down, cleaned up version of one of the ordinances as we met last night. To his credit, he made the language more consistent throughout and simplified other aspects. He credited our assistant town attorney, Eileen Kennelly, with the long hours and hard work any legal document for the town requires. He wished he had time for similar efforts on the other two.

The one he tackled, and improved, was our simplest one regarding Stone Walls. Yeah, we’re in favor of them. We also want to preserve them and intend to pass this with an eye towards maintaining them. Aside: did you know people go around Connecticut stealing stones from walls because natural field stone is a hot commodity?

We hashed through the Demolition Delay ordinance and again, made certain we were consistent and what we intended during committee discussions actually made it into the final language.

Finally, we tackled my rather long and somewhat wordy Tree Ordinance. Eileen said, if she could, it would be about one-third the length and the others agreed. We went through it, excising some of the language and shortening in other places. I held out for one thing the others thought might cause some concern among the RTM at large and we’ll see if I prevail at the final meeting. We then engaged in a rather long discussion as to what size trees we’re dealing with – too small and the entire thing becomes unwieldy, too large and then some precious others might be missed.

I was particularly pleased that the meeting stayed focused and on topic. We’ve been together since July 31, seven or eight meetings in all, and have hashed through the issues so knew what we intended. Now it was making certain we did right by the town.

In the end, all three went back to Eileen for final drafting and then come mid-November; we’ll meet for the final time to review and then vote on them. If all three pass, as I expect them to, then they get forwarded to the Town Clerk and our RTM Moderator for scheduling. Town rules call for ordinances to be held over for a second month of discussion before voting. Therefore, it’s likely that these three will be discussed in the first months of the New Year, which may make for a nice gift to the town before the ugly budget battles begin.

If it’s Monday…

Posted by Bob Greenberger on October 24, 2006

If it’s Monday, I must be at a meeting. Three weeks out of four, Monday nights are public service nights for me and last night was no exception.

We had a nice and easy agenda at the RTM which everyone hoped would mean an early close so we could enjoy our bi-partisan socialable soda at the beginning of the Giants-Cowboys game.

The first three items were appointments to various boards and they easily got lumped together on our consent calendar (which basically means all the committees involved had unanimous positive votes).

Next up was a parcel of land being donated to the town. We couldn’t act on it last month because we needed more information and then got the information too late to consider at our committee meetings last week. Turns out we need a survey, a title search and a ground sample taken to ensure nothing toxic awaits us. So, once again we have held it over to the December meeting to see if the donating family wants to provide us with such materials.

The final item was one that I watched closely because it was an ordinance written by a fellow member and with three of my sub-committee’s about to be finalized, I wanted to see what will happen. This was an ordinance that would prohibit the RTM from seizing private lands through eminent domain in order for private developers to benefit. This is an outgrowth of the Supreme Court’s decision regarding our neighboring town of New London.

At the caucus, it became clear that several of the lawyers in the group felt the language needed tightening up, an opinion the assistant town attorney agreed with. It was decided that we’d hear some of the pro and con discussion and then move that the ordinance be referred to our standing committee on Legislation & Administration. I was asked to do that and as the meeting unfolded, did just that.

Turns out, though, that the ordinance was standing over a month, per procedures, and was to be discussed anew at the November committee meetings. After vigorous debate, my amendment went down in flames (not the first time I’ve taken one for the team). I wish leadership had realized the futility of the motion so I could have avoided that. Ah well.

We were at the bar, just after kickoff, so things went swimmingly after that. In fact, I had a wonderful conversation with Peter Ambrose, my Finance Committee vice-chair, really getting to know him for the first time which was a plus.

Tomorrow night we get back to my sub-committee for what I hope will be the final meeting.

Flesh and Blood: Day One

Posted by Bob Greenberger on October 23, 2006

Work is finally beginning on Predator: Flesh and Blood which is a good thing since it’s already being solicited in Diamond’s Preview catalogue. When Mike Friedman initially invited me to join him on the project, it was back in the spring when he had a tight window and didn’t think he could hit the June delivery date without help. Since we have collaborated several times in the past, we were comfortable with each other’s style and figured this would be good and maybe even fun.

Mike prepped a two-page outline for 20th Century-Fox’s approval which should have been delivered sometime in the spring, giving us the two-three month window to write the manuscript and deliver in June.

20th didn’t approve the outline until August. The licensing arm of any major media company is usually understaffed and the people there overwhelmed with Work That Must Be Done Now as opposed to something not going on sale for what seems like forever. 20th, Paramount, Warner Bros, ABC, etc. all have the properties they’re pushing today because there’s a movie about to be released or a TV series about to debut. Anything not associated with those timely projects usually takes a backseat. While the Predator franchise is still a very important one to 20th, there is no movie the novel is tacked on to so things like novel proposals get read when time permits.

Mike and I have been through this before as has our editor, Rob Simpson. We figured a revised schedule would still enable us to write and him to edit and still make the pub date Dark Horse needed for its marketing and budgetary needs.

This is when life intruded. In the spring, Mike was writing and tutoring. Plenty of time. Over the summer, Mike stepped into a cocoon and emerged in late August as a middle school English teacher, now working in Brooklyn. This meant several things: he suddenly lost three hours a day in commutation time, he had to begin graduate classes that ate up two nights a week, he continued to tutor and he still had one other writing commitment…plus time for his wife and kids.

We talked about it and Rob gave us new dates which I thought could be met with a lot of effort. Mike was less certain but also recognized he’d be leaning on me a little more than he first thought. For example, he was going to expand the two-page outline into more of a fleshed out story and begin writing the first chapter to set the tone. There really wasn’t time for that. Instead, yesterday, I finally sat down and began making the roadmap.

I was taught by former Trek Editor Kevin Ryan that a good road map keeps you on track. Also, every scene had to have something at stake and had to be about something. My problem was always the middle of my stories where I tended to meander. The map, with well defined chapter breaks, has been my savior more often than not. I reread Mike’s outline, thought about what he told me he envisioned for the characters, and then looked over John Shirley’s Forever Midnight, Dark Horse’s first Predator novel. Our story would be set in that world without necessarily referring to it or contradicting so many other Predator novels that precede us. I sketched out the main characters, named others who were going to be key players. I figured out where things needed to be stretched and filled in. I added chapter breaks, mentally estimating how many words each chapter needed to be in order to hit the 70,000 words or so our book was contracted to be.

All in all, a fine afternoon’s work that made me feel a lot more comfortable. Before this, it was Mike’s notion and by adding to it, it became our story. I sent it off to Mike and Rob to make certain they were fine with the pacing and elements I added. Mike has been writing up additional notes and will now append it to the outline.

In theory, by Thursday night, I can come home, and after dinner begin writing Chapter One. We remain on a ridiculously tight deadline and I can only hope the first draft flows quickly. For the first time, I’ll be feeding Mike chapters rather than do an entire draft and hand it over. Should be an interesting ride.

A Memorable Wedding

Posted by Bob Greenberger on October 22, 2006

Deb and I have reached that stage where we have now attended the first wedding of children we are friends with. It’ll be a while, I gather, before we do this again, but it was interesting an milestone of some note.

We’ve known Chuck Rozakis since he was three and watching him grow into the unique individual he has become has been never less than entertaining. He is so much like his father Bob, but yet has certain eccentricities that can only come from his mother, Laurie. And then there are aspects that are his and his alone.

We’ve heard many a tale about the women he’s dated at high school and then at Princeton, but that only meant we could tell Rebecca was someone special. Meeting her cinched that. I recall one Thanksgiving where the two of them (and Robbie, Kate and others) went at it about Buffy, Angel and assorted other pop culture shows and it was clear, they were a perfect complement for one another.

At their engagement party over the summer, we met her parents, Jim and Debbie Gillespie, and we can see where she gets her self-confidence and charm. Rarely have I seen two sets of parents get along as well as these four.

As a result, we’ve been looking forward to the wedding for some time. With Katie in Cairo, and sadly disappointed about missing the event, the three of us trooped down the Jersey Turnpike to the Cherry Hill area on a sunny, gorgeous fall day.

Chuck was handsome in a tux complete with tails, white gloves, top hat and cane. Rebecca was stunning in her gown, which featured colorful embroidery along the bodice and atop her elbow-length gloves. The ceremony featured friends doing readings and their friend (and my fellow lunchmate) Jennifer acted as cantor.

We went to the facility’s wine cellar for the cocktail hour and as I passed one group, I heard the words, “Yeah, I had a story published in Strange New Worlds…” that naturally stopped me dead in my tracks. I introduced myself to Emily P. Bloch, who had her first story in the most recent SNW anthology. Her eyes went wide, proclaiming she had just this week read my story in the Tales of the Dominion War collection. So we babbled on for a while, with me encouraging her to come to Shore Leave next summer. Emily wound up sitting next to Robbie at the reception and the two talked Geek all afternoon.

After a pleasant cocktail hour, the reception began and with each passing hour it proved more and more unique. Some highlights include a delightful father-daughter dance to Big Band music. Since Laurie didn’t want to collapse into a puddle of tears during the mother-son dance, she and Chuck took to the floor and had a best 2-out-of-3 thumb wrestling match as the DJ played a song about not dancing. The Princeton pals certainly knew how to do the appropriate moves to music rescued from their college days.

We were seated with my fellow ex-DCers, former editors Alan Gold and Janice Race, former Production whiz Rick Taylor and former proofreader Gary Race along with spouses/partners and a couple that had no DC connections but we’ve all known for years and therefore fit right in.

Debbie Gillespie told us to stick around after the music stopped and the staff began flipping the room for the 6 p.m. wedding and reception. People milled about and I strolled to the car to put things away when I saw the trademarked Princeton marching band jackets.

Fresh from the just won Princeton-Harvard game, members of the current band and alumni friends of the bride and groom had conspired to arrive to serenade the couple. They conveniently brought Rebecca’s flute and a tambourine for Chuck, plus their jackets. Kate, the maid of honor, played her bass drum with gusto. As the newlyweds came out of the facility, the first drum beats echoed and the look on their faces was rather priceless. They quickly donned their jackets and joined in. The remaining handful of guests were treated to five or so numbers with most played from memory. I don’t think Chuck and Rebecca could have any more surprised or pleased. The plaid jacketed band received more than its share of quizzical looks from just-arriving guests.

As we drove north, all three of remarked that it was one of the most memorable and enjoyable weddings any of us had experienced. It was certainly unique, pretty much just like the bride and groom.

Season Over

Posted by Bob Greenberger on October 20, 2006

He just stood there. Bases loaded, two out, two strikes and he just stands.

This has been a tiring and ultimately frustrating week and now all the analysts will chime in and the pressure will mount on GM Omar Minaya to bolster the pitching.

But it wasn’t the pitching that failed the Mets this week. We got two who-would-have-believed-it performances from erratic Oliver Perez and gems from Tom Glavine (in game 1) and John Maine (in game 6). The pitching, both starters and bullpen, did pretty much as expected despite the glaring absence of Pedro Martinez and Orlando Hernandez.

It was the hitting that was absent. Forget the 12-5 win and focus on Endy Chavez being 0-12 with runners in scoring position, or David Wright’s under .200 average, or the total absence of clutch hitting from Jose Valentin. Time and again, the Mets missed the key hit. They weren’t moving runners over, they were swinging too early in the count and not making the opposing pitchers work.

Twice they put Cliff Floyd up and twice we hoped for his Kirk Gibson-moment. After he failed the first time, I would have thought twice about putting a guy who can’t run up at bat. Floyd isn’t accustomed to pinch hitting, hasn’t really hit in a few weeks and showed how rusty he was with poor timing. Deb and I argued over the value of having my personal fave, Julio Franco, up there in lieu of Floyd last night but he hasn’t been delivering either.

They got beat by the better team.

I spent much of last night watching in the family and then running into Deb’s office and watching on MLB.com’s gamecast as I IM’d with Kate. She was finishing a mid-term paper and watching on the same site. We anguished over every missed opportunity and I tried to describe what it was like watching Endy Chavez’s amazing catch at the wall. It was odd hearing her describe the sunrise over Cairo as the game wound down.

And both us began rewriting Ernest Thayer as the game ended. My good pal, Michael A. Burstein, did a much better job than me. Herewith, his updated lament (with a minor tweak courtesy of Peter David):

(With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer, and to Carlos Beltran, who did his best.)

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the New York Mets that day:
The score stood one to one, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Rolen got to first, Molina’s turn at bat
Made it clear to one and all the game shouldn’t end like that.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, “If only Beltran could but get a whack at that—
We’d put up even money now, with Beltran at the bat.

But Floyd preceded Beltran, as did also Valentin,
And the former one was injured, while the latter wasn’t “in”;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Beltran getting to the bat.

But Valentin and Chavez to the wonderment of all,
Hit two singles in a row, they really slammed that ball;
And though hopes were pinned on Reyes, after Floyd’s depressing stance,
With Lo Duca loading bases, it seemed the Mets might get to dance.

Then from a million throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Beltran, mighty Beltran, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Beltran’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Beltran’s bearing and a smile lit Beltran’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ’twas Beltran at the bat.

Two million eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
A million tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Beltran’s eye, a sneer curled Beltran’s lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Beltran stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the changeup pitch it sped—
“That ain’t my style,” said Beltran. “Strike one!” the umpire said.

>From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
“Kill him! Kill the umpire!” shouted someone on the stand;
And it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Beltran raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Beltran’s visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
This time it was a curveball, and the umpire said, “Strike two!”

“Fraud!” cried the maddened Mets fans, and echo answered “Fraud!”
But one scornful look from Beltran and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Beltran wouldn’t let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Beltran’s lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And Adam Wainwright holds the ball, and now he lets it fling
And now the crowd is screaming because Beltran doesn’t swing.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Metsville—mighty Beltran has struck out.

– Michael A. Burstein

26

Posted by Bob Greenberger on October 18, 2006

I’ve always taken the position that age is but a number and how you feel – emotionally and physically – determines your real place in the grand scheme of things. The one allowance I used to make was when I turned 50, figuring the half-century milestone might be something momentous. Now that the days toward that anniversary tick off with seeming speed, it no longer looms like some heavy burden.

The same can be said with my wedding anniversary. Twenty-six years ago today, Deb and I got married. Last year, reaching the Silver Anniversary mark, we bowed to convention and celebrated the event. Readers here may recall we went away for a brief mid-week break followed by the kids throwing us a surprise party. When it came time to determine plans for this year, Deb shared my opinion that 26 is a mere number and didn’t merit anything over-the-top.

Still, we’re not ignoring the day by any means. We’ve hidden cards for the other to find during the course of our normal routines and tonight we’ll go out to dinner, sampling a new Indian restaurant in Fairfield. Afterwards, we expect to just snuggle on the couch, hoping the Mets’ bats wake up and force a game 7.

I will continue to marvel how Deb puts up with me, my strong opinions and slightly OCD ways. I delight in spending time with her, even if it’s just side-by-side on the daily commute. Even mundane chores and errands are improved when we’re together. There’s always something to talk about and if we lapse into silence, it’s a comfortable one. We’re certainly attuned to each other’s attitudes and moods, picking the other one up when needed. And we share pride in the accomplishments of our children, our careers and our lives together. This way, we’re ready to stand by one another through the times promised in the traditional vows. So far, we’ve endured sickness and health, etc., etc. and can certainly delay that “death do us part” phrase.

We’re looking forward to the future together, planning trips, home improvements and projects that will continue keeping us together.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way. So, here’s to us!

Ah, the Weekend

Posted by Bob Greenberger on October 15, 2006

We go to work for five days, often dreaming and counting down to the weekend. Sometimes it’s for social reasons; sometimes you just have stuff to do. We love seeing our friends and family don’t get me wrong, but there are times we can just feel pushed to the limit. And sometimes you’re on the go so often you yearn for a quiet weekend.

This was our first quiet weekend at home in something like five weeks and the only one for the next four. We took advantage of this oasis and scheduled nothing. Which is to say, we didn’t do nothing but we did it at our pace, ensuring we didn’t stress ourselves. Getting home late after the Mets game on Friday meant we would be tired and catching up on rest throughout the weekend, but that turned out to be fine.

Errands got done and pleasantly, got done together. You know it’s a quiet weekend when the big thrill was buying a new crock-pot and a new fall jacket for me. I got my deskwork done, bills paid, e-mails sorted and cleaned up. Cleared away other debris in the home office and even did some serious work on my next big project, more about which another time.

We indulged a bit in our dinners and even caught up on some prime time we had stored on the good ol’ DVR. Magazines and newspapers got read, some home repairs got done – all in all just what we needed.

Now we can start looking forward to the next oasis, a month away.

Game 2

Posted by Bob Greenberger on October 14, 2006

Things never quite go according to plan.

On Wednesday, Robbie blew off a class and hustled from college to New York to join us on our journey to Shea Stadium and Game 1 of the NLCS. The weather was threatening but we all hoped to get the game in. Oddly, even though we had a fourth ticket, seven different people we invited along couldn’t make it. Our final thought was to scalp it at the stadium. We all met up at Grand Central, in the rain, and walked to Deb’s favorite area luncheon place to grab some dinner and then take the subway to Queens.

Arriving at Shea, we realized the rain was getting heavier and thought they might call the game. We went straight to our car, carefully parked near an exit, and got in to dry off and check WFAN for details. Based on the first comments we heard, the rumors about Cory Lidle being killed in the plane crash were confirmed for us. I thought Cory had a lot of potential when he broke in with the Mets and was sorry to see him go in the Tampa Bay expansion draft. I thought he had a pretty good year with the Yankees and his death was a sad event.

But I digress. Within ten minutes, the official word came that the game was called, to be rescheduled. We fired up the engine and slogged through the rain back to Connecticut and after a break, Robbie took one of our cars back to school since it was clear by then we’d be doing this all over again on Friday.

Fortunately, MLB decided to make it an evening game, guaranteeing he could join us and Deb’s coworker who originally had our fourth ticket, was able to be there, too. So far so good.

Thursday, the Mets, behind superb pitching from Tom Glavine, took Game One. By then, though, they had won eight in a row dating back to the regular season so I recognized the odds were stacked against them for a ninth. But, being a Mets fan, I remained hopeful.

Friday was cool but clear and we once again hooked up at Grand Central. We got to the stadium in plenty of time, grabbed sausages and watched the Cardinals finish batting practice. We were in the Upper Reserve, somewhere just past third base into left field, and four rows from the top of the stadium. Still, it was, in many ways, a superior view than the game we saw a week before.

We settled in and then Deb’s phone buzzed. She received a text message which read: “I’m on Mt. Sinai, what’s the score?” Yes, CairoKate was sending us queries from a historic point of the world, anxious to keep in touch. As a result, Robbie would text back the score every inning or so. We also were entertained by Linda Eder (one of Deb’s favorites) performing the National Anthem and we laughed when Jon Stewart bounced the ceremonial first pitch.

I kept comparing my experience last night to the one 1999 NLCS game we attended, the only one the Mets won against Atlanta. The air was super-charged back then, we were on our feet most of the night, and were hoarse well before the ninth inning. Last night, it didn’t feel the same, seemed to be maybe 80% of that. Guys two and three rows below us decided to use their attendance as an excuse to get quickly drunk on beer which meant they were super-charged and on their feet much of the night. Since the guy in front of me couldn’t see, he stood, forcing me to stand more often than I wanted.

The Mets struck early against Chris Carpenter, who clearly didn’t have his best stuff. He threw an awful lot of balls, walked a high number of players and couldn’t contain the Met offense. John Maine, though, seemed to keep losing focus and allowed the Cardinals to stay in the game so a 3-0 lead suddenly became 3-2, and so on, all night.

By the 7th inning, the drunken guys seemed to lose all self-control and sure enough, a fight broke out that left one guy with a bloody nose and a good half-dozen people involved just had their night ruined. A side note: no usher or security game by, we were too high up, too remote for their notice it seemed.

Willie Randolph’s plan was to use Guillermo Mota in the 7th, Aaron Heilman in the 8th and close things out with Billy Wagner in the 9th. This plan normally works well. However, Mota couldn’t get out of the inning, requiring Heilman to come in early and by then the score was tied at 6. Convention tells you not to bring your closer into a tie ballgame but Randolph went against such wisdom and brought Wagner in for the ninth. Here’s when things really fell apart and for the first time in my memory, Randolph removed his closer before the end of the inning. With Roberto Hernandez now pitching the score stood 9-6 and that was too steep a problem to surmount as the team went quietly in the bottom of the ninth. No late inning heroics, no walk off classics as happened early this season.

We stand tied at 1-1 with Detroit seemingly poised to close things out this weekend and rest until this series is over. The sports reporters from all media seem to think it’ll be the Mets in 6, but as the last few days prove, things don’t quite go according to plan so I’ll remain cautiously optimistic.