Postponing the Coronation

The script says that the New York Mets, bolstered by Johan Santana, impelled by David Wright, Jose Reyes and Carlos Beltran, and motivated by last year's run aground, steamroll through the National League East and on to the World Series.

In the words of the great sports philosopher, Keith Jackson, let me say, respectfully, "Whoa Nellie." Shea's denizens have a boatload of talent...and a Swiss cheese roster that collectively walks with a cane. There are still enough "ifs" to keep Willie Randolph stocked in Rolaids all season.

Procuring the services of the best pitcher in baseball for a sofa-sleeper and four jars of raspberry jam was a real coup. And teaming him with Pedro Martinez would create a daunting top two if only one of these things were anything like the other.

Besides sharing a name and a mother with the great Red Sox pitcher of the '90s, the Mets' Pedro Martinez bears only a passing resemblance. The old Pedro was young and strong, whereas the new Pedro is 36 and a walking medical chart -- when he's walking. The old Pedro scared people with his talent; the new Pedro remains talented, but not sufficiently so to retire batters from the disabled list. The old Pedro threw 200 innings; the new...well, you get the idea.

After whatever's left of Pedro, the Mets will rely on whichever Oliver Perez graces the mound this year. John Maine, Mike Pelfrey and Jose Sosa could team up to round out a killer starting staff, but that pain in your temple is the ghost of Isringhausen, Pulsipher and Wilson. And El Duque? El Puque! The guy is older than Bob Hope's jokes.

The bullpen looks solid with Billy Wagner as anchor and such lights as Aaron Heilman and Scott Schoeneweis, but they need a fully recovered Duaner Sanchez to achieve pennant quality. Anyway, bullpens are notoriously unpredictable.

And aside from center, third and short, the Mets sport a collection of question marks and colons old enough to require yearly exams. While you were admiring Moises Alou's impressive collection of breaks, sprains, pulls, tears, separations, dislocations, subluxations, tweaks and twinges, Carlos Delgado was busy finishing off a big bag of suck all by himself. A bad-fielding 36-year-old first baseman, Carlos accumulated a .781 OPS last year and neglected to get younger and better in the off-season. I know that you think of the great Blue Jay who smacked home runs around like he was white trash, but that guy retired in '05 and left behind Andy Phillips.

The Mets may have visions of adequacy at catcher, second and the other outfield spots. Ryan Church might be fine if he keeps his Jesus freak mouth shut and Ramon Castro might not be a black hole at the plate if he manages to get in the way of bunches of pitches, but Vegas isn't taking those bets.

In any event, a couple of off-years, a sprinkling of key injuries, a slow start, and pretty soon you're looking up at the Braves and Phillies come September. Hey, I'm just sayin'.