When Putz joined the team, I was excited. He seemed like a great addition- dominating on the field and a merry prankster in the clubhouse. And that name! A Putz in NY- in the Mets’ bullpen!- how do you go wrong? I was all set to buy a Putz shirt at my earliest convenience.

And the season started well enough. It looked like we were going to ride Parnell, Putz, and Frankie to glory.

Then our boy JJ decides he can’t get it up in the 8th anymore.

And by “it”, I mean “adrenaline.” He apparently told the FAN that he had trouble “find”ing adrenaline when pitching in the 8th, that “that’s where those two or three miles an hour are, [in] that adrenaline”

Can someone give brother man a friendly “WTF?” for me? How the hell are you unable to get friggin amped enough to come in to a 1-1 tie, facing the best team in baseball, knowing you will wind up back in first if you can avoid the sweep, and MOW DOWN anything in a Dodgers uniform? Is there not enough at stake? Maybe Jerry Manuel needs to go above and beyond gangsta and “get medieval on his ass.” Better yet, go all Cheney on him and bust out the waterboard if he even allows a runner to make it past 2nd without getting caught in a rundown.

Too extreme? Maybe when JJ comes in, Jerry can hand him the ball with one hand, and stab him in the neck with an Epi-Pen using the other.

Something.