Silly Mets, Bens In Flight and DJ LW3

Carlos Beltran lacks originality. Which is unsurprising for many reasons, but most notably because he is a member of the New York Mets, and as such has already sacrificed his soul, dignity and independent thought to become part of such a heinous, heinous organization. In this instance, Beltran decided to tell Jimmy Rollins, via the national media, that the Mets were the team to beat this year. Those who were not in a coma or in the grips of a hazy heroin binge (Big Firm, who thankfully is finally getting the help he so desperately needed) this time last year will remember that Cousin Jimmy said, well, the exact same thing about the Phils. We can only assume that this “prophecy” is the result of the Mets picking up two-time Cy Young winner Johan Santana from the Minnesota Twins for a few dollars more than a completely irrational, utterly insane amount of money, and despite that I didn’t even know the Twins existed since Kirby Puckett (RIP) retired, the guy appears to know how to throw a ball slightly better than Ryan Rossito. That being said, one Venezuelan pitcher an unstoppable juggernaut of team does not make. Just ask Oogie Urbina. The Gooch aside, the Phils haven’t lost any of the kings and cuzzes that were responsible for our ascent to greatness within the NL East last season, and in that same vein, the Mets haven’t gotten rid of any of the key contributors (no, famed pederast Paul Lo Duca does not count) to their awe-inspiring spiraling of the toilet bowl which led to them sacrificing a seven game division lead at the end of last season. J-Roll has yet to respond, but when he does chances are it will be more than slightly hurtful, possibly anti-Puerto Rican and certainly 100% true. We’ll keep you updated.



Moving on, the NBA All-Star game allegedly happened yesterday. As of press time I still have no idea who won, and frankly I don’t give half of a shit. Not only because Sammy D was criminally absent from the event, but simply because I refuse to watch all-star games in any of their various manifestations. If I wanted to see a lot of tall, black, athletic dudes score excessively with little to no competition or contention, I’d have a party for my friends and all the white girls I know, and invite the Temple and Villanova basketball teams. At least that way I’m not drinking by myself staring at a TV. Anti-all-star (should there really be that many hyphens?) game sentiment aside, some spectacular shit did manage to go down at the dunk contest. A black superman, pastries, a St. Joes alum…it actually was worth watching and not describing. Thanks to the wonders of youtube, you can do that here:



Speaking of the NBA, our own LW3 wrapped week two of his radio show on 100.3 The Beat yesterday. Being the dedicated DR Editorial Staff member that I am, I have yet to actually listen to it. If anyone has and can offer playlist selections or a review of some manner, feel free to comment below, or e-mail to thedalembertreport@gmail.com.

Finally, I want to take a moment to give a big fuck you to the writers and producers of The Wire. After 4 and ¾ seasons worth of frightening dedication on my part, doing what they’ve done to me is unconscionable. Since many fans may not have OnDemand and are therefore unable to watch the episodes a week in advance, I won’t go into specifics, but those that do and have watched the episode can probably guess what I’m talking about. So, to Ed Burns, David Simon and co-writer of the episode Dennis Lehane, I put you all on official warning that should I see you walking down the street between now and the time I inevitably stop caring, you’re going to have some shit thrown at you. Literally. I’m not above that.