If you watched the SNY Hot Stove Report (which will be shown again Wednesday at 6:30 PM on SNY), then you may or may not have picked up a few morsels of wisdom from Willie Randolph. In particular ….

• While discussing the end-of-season slump by Jose Reyes, Willie mentioned that it’s tough when “…your best player is slumping …”

Aha! So Jose is the best player on the Mets — not David Wright, Carlos Beltran, nor any other Met. Hopefully this means there is no chance he is traded for Johan Santana. OK, this isn’t a scoop, and it really means nothing, but interesting that he would refer to someone as “the best”.

At the end of the show, the happy, shiny, eternally optimistic Marty “Crepehanger” Noble began to respond to an email asking about Ruben Gotay’s chances for playing in 2008. Luckily, time ran out right after Noble extolled the virtues of Gotay’s energy off the bench and before he could fully bury the rest of his game.

All in all, a mildly decent show if you’re struggling between it and, say, “World’s Wildest Police Videos”, but otherwise not particularly enlightening.

• In response to questions about several players who had tough seasons or bad finishes (particularly, Reyes and Carlos Delgado), Willie’s standard answer was, “I’m confident in … I’m sure he’s going to bounce back.”

He referred to so many bounce backs I’m wondering if Randolph should incorporate pogo sticks into the spring training workouts.

• After being asked if the Mets need a “big starting pitcher”, Willie initially responded in the affirmative. He stated that the Mets needed to replace the innings that Glavine provided last year, and that “we’re hoping that by spring training we’ll do something … or during the spring we might be able to make something happen …”

So apparently the Santana, Blanton, and other rumors will continue. Although, Willie did also admit that the Mets don’t want to “make a knee-jerk reaction” or respond to the pressure of making a move. He also said that he was very happy with the guys he has, and that sometimes you need to give the younger guys a chance, that one of the younger guys such as Pelfrey, Humber, or Mulvey, needs to step up. Hmm … so … the Mets need to bring in a pitcher from the outside, but they don’t. As usual, Willie was remarkably non-committal and talking in circles. And contrary to popular belief, I find it charming.

My wife had an excellent quote in regard to Willie’s roundabout way of expressing himself:

“After listening to the Roger Clemens press conference and 17-minute phone conversation with Brian McNamee, Randolph was refreshingly definitive.”

Also during the Hot Stove Report, Carlos Delgado came on via phone. He stated

“… we know we had a good team, we had a good lead, it got to a point where … I’m not gonna say we assumed we were going to win …”

I cut off the quote there because, honestly: the minute someone — anyone — starts with “I’m not gonna say …” then you know for sure that it is EXACTLY what he wants to say. (For the record, he went on to blah blah about how maybe they should have focused better, you can’t assume, blah blah. You can watch / listen to all of his comments, as well as most of Willie’s, on SNY.)

We already knew that at least part of the Mets’ problem last year was that their collective head swelled to dangerous proportions, leading to occasional lapses of apathy. But it was nice that one of the players (almost) admitted to it; it kind of confirms our suspicions.

Sometimes, we can get an idea on the future by looking at the past. Some call this “learning from your mistakes”; if you don’t learn from mistakes, you call it “history repeating itself”. Before the Mets empty their farm system in return for the best pitcher in baseball, let’s go back 20 years, to the last time the Mets traded a bunch of youngsters to the Twins in return for a Cy Young Award – winning lefthanded pitcher.

On the trading deadline in 1989, the Mets sent four players plus a PTBNL to the Twins in return for Frank Viola. At the time of the trade, the Mets were mired in fourth place, seven games out of first, and looking up at the Montreal Expos, Chicago Cubs, and St. Louis Cardinals — with the Pirates and Phillies far out of the race in fifth and sixth (amazing how much the NL East has changed since then, eh?). The previous year, the Mets won the NL East, only to be soundly eliminated by the Dodgers in NLCS. This was a team much like our current 2008 Mets — they were expected, and built, to win now. So the Viola deal made a lot of sense, because the Mets appeared to be just one dominating arm away from getting back into contention — and their ace Dwight Gooden was lost for the remainder of the season due to a shoulder injury. At the time, Frank Viola seemed the ideal replacement. He was 29 years old, a local boy (St. John’s alum), had just come off a 24-7, 255-inning, 2.64 ERA, Cy Young season, and was generally considered to be one of, if not the, top lefthanded starters in MLB. Though the Mets had mortgaged some of their future by giving away three of the top arms in the system, it was assumed that Viola would be leading the Mets’ staff for at least the next 3-5 years, if not longer.

Unfortunately, things didn’t turn out quite as planned. Viola went only 5-5 for the Mets in the second half of ’89 as the Mets finished in second place, six games behind the Cubs. He did have a strong 1990 with 20 wins, but fell off to 13-15 in 1991 and was allowed to exit via free agency after the season. It was a good decision from the Mets point of view, because Viola won only 26 games over the final five years of his career, before calling it quits in 1996.

Though the timing and circumstances of the Viola trade was different from now, it was comparable to the Mets’ interest in Santana in terms of desperation and perception — specifically, the switch to “win now” mode. Although you can’t argue with making some trades that will help the team win now — after all, the current Mets roster does appear to have the talent to go all the way — there needs to be a responsibility in regard to the long-term effects of any deal. Of course, it’s a delicate balance, and it’s not easy. But we need only look to the past to see how quickly a “contending team” — one that was flush with young talent — can become also rans.

The shortsightedness of the Viola trade was symptomatic of the Mets’ gross mismanagement of player personnel that began immediately following the 1986 World Series Championship. After beating the Red Sox in that magical October, the Mets made a series of trades that emptied the organization of bright minor league prospects and youthful, up-and-coming MLB talent. The theme of selling the future to improve the present started with the Kevin McReynolds trade in December, 1986, peaked with the Viola deal, and ended sometime in the early 1990s — though not because the Mets realized their stupidity, but rather because the organization had effectively run out of tradeable talent. The scariest point of all is that the Mets in the late 1980s had a seemingly overflowing amount of prospects in their farm system; a sharp contrast to the current situation on the whiteboard in Omar Minaya’s office.

Let’s go over a handful of the trades that effectively decimated the Mets’ organization, beginning with the McReynolds deal.

December 1986: Kevin McReynolds, Gene Walter, and Adam Ging for Kevin Mitchell, Shawn Abner, Stanley Jefferson, Kevin Armstrong, and Kevin Brown (not THAT Kevin Brown).

A lot of Kevins going back and forth. McReynolds was the key to the deal from the Mets’ POV, as Ging never graduated from the minors and Walter was a little-used LOOGY. Mitchell became an MVP on the West Coast, Abner was one of the most highly touted prospects in the organization at the time (think: F-Mart), and Jefferson was also a strong prospect who became the Padres’ starting centerfielder in 1987 (think: Carlos Gomez).

Forget arguing over whether this was a good deal or not, and focus on the fact that the Mets gave up Mitchell, Abner, and Jefferson — all big trading chips at the time — in return for the 28-year-old McReynolds. On the one hand, the Mets believed they were getting an All-Star outfielder who was about to enter his prime. On the other, they gave away a package similar to what would today be Lastings Milledge, F-Mart, Gomez, and two decent AA pitchers. At the time, the deal made sense because the Mets had plenty of youthful outfielders in the system and McReynolds was expected to be a fixture for years to come. This deal may not have hurt so much had the Mets not continued with their irresponsibility in trading away youth.

June 1989: Lenny Dykstra, Roger McDowell, and PTBNL (Tom Edens) for Juan Samuel.

Ouch. One of the worst trades in the team’s history. But forget about that, and look at it from the perspective of sending away the 26-year-old Dykstra and the 28-year-old McDowell, for the 28-year-old Samuel, a guy who was probably in reality over 30 (Dominican Republic birth certificate) and on the downside of his career. Edens wasn’t a terrible prospect, either, spending seven years in MLB as a serviceable middle reliever.

July 1989: Frank Viola for Rick Aguilera, Kevin Tapani, David West, Tim Drummond, and Jack Savage.

We went over the Viola side of the argument. You probably know Aguilera went on to become one of the most dominant closers in the AL in the 1990s, and Tapani had a respectable 13-year career as a #2 / #3 starter. Interestingly enough, West was considered the biggest coup in the deal — he was the Mike Pelfrey of the organization at the time, only better. Drummond wasn’t a tremendous prospect, but at the time was considered a Major League ready pitcher (and he did break into the Twins bullpen in ’89 and ’90); think of him as Carlos Muniz. Savage was the PTBNL and essentially a throw-in.

Again, let’s not argue whether it was a good deal. Rather, compare this to the aforementioned McReynolds deal — it was another case of recklessly dealing away an abundance of youth. Also in comparison, the Mets felt they were protected at the time, since they had youngsters such as Ron Darling, Dwight Gooden, Sid Fernandez, and Randy Myers already at the MLB level. But the madness continued …

December 1989: Randy Myers and Kip Gross to the Reds for John Franco and Don Brown.

Even in hindsight, this doesn’t appear to be such an awful deal from the Mets’ POV. Myers was a 26-year-old, up-and-coming closer while Franco was already established and two years old. As it turned out, their performance and longevity was similar. But the fact the Mets got older, that they might have overpaid, and that they sent away another decent trading chip (Kip Gross was a decent prospect at the time), it was another straw on the camel’s back.

December 1991: Kevin McReynolds, Gregg Jefferies, and Keith Miller to the Royals for Bret Saberhagen and Bill Pecota.

The last of the big-time prospects, Jefferies, was sent away along with McReynolds for Saberhagen, a 28-year-old with both a Cy Young and a serious arm injury in his recent past. The Mets grossly overpaid for Saberhagen, who at the time of the deal was still a question mark in regard to his health — there were questions as to whether his elbow would hold up (it didn’t).

This trade in particular sums up the problem that was about to destroy the Mets as an organization. They were desperate for Saberhagen because Viola didn’t pan out, Sid Fernandez was eating his way out of MLB, and Gooden was sniffing his way out. Had the Mets had held onto Aguilera, Tapani, West, Drummond, and some of the other arms dealt away, perhaps they wouldn’t have been in this predicament. To make matters worse, McReynolds was part of the deal — the guy who they acquired when they began emptying their prospect pool. Although Jefferies didn’t quite live up to his billing, he was still a solid, borderline All-Star who could hit and play several positions. But the Mets weren’t able to turn the 24-year-old Jefferies and McReynolds into more youthful depth — which was a disgrace. Instead, they continued to deplete the youth in their previously brimming system without giving back.

About the only significant young players the Mets brought in during this period were David Cone — and many feel that was a stroke of luck rather than genius — and Jeff Kent, who was sent away before reaching his potential. You may remember the Mets sent Kent away for Carlos Baerga, yet another former All-Star on the downside of his career.

Are you seeing a familiar pattern here? Mets trade away their youth, get older and older, all in the name of winning today. It’s happened before, it’s happening again. Here’s something fun — go take a look at the 1992 Mets roster. You’ll see Willie Randolph there, as well as other aging former stars and has-beens such as Eddie Murray, Bobby Bonilla, and Vince Coleman. Take a good long look at that team, and then consider what the 2010 Mets might look like if they empty the farm for Johan Santana.

So the previously silent Roger Clemens decided to let the entire world know “the truth” on 60 Minutes, thanks to some old-fashioned poking and prodding from 90-year-old Mike Wallace. The show will air this Sunday, but don’t bother rearranging your social schedule or setting the TiVo to see it. Wallace is too old to ask the tough questions and the only interesting words from Roger’s mouth is pure “Palmeirospeak”.

That’s right, Roger speaks candidly about his relationship with trainer Brian McNamee, and addresses the issue of being injected. And now the “big bombshell”: he ADMITS to being injected! Though, not with steroids.

Yes, Roger pulled a “Palmeiro” — or at least, set himself up for one. While it will be nice on Sunday to directly hear Clemens vehemently denying taking any performance-enhancing drugs — rather than getting that message through a conduit such as his lawyer — the question is not whether or not he did PEDs. The question is whether he stole the “not knowingly” tactic from Rafael Palmeiro or Barry Bonds. As you’ll hear on Sunday, it would appear that he’s using Palmeiro’s tried-and-true method of claiming he was getting injected with B-12. No doubt there will be something in the future pinpointing Clemens’ use of steroids and/or HGH, and he’ll harken back to this 60 Minutes “admission” of injection and claim he thought that McNamee was shooting him up with vitamins. Sure, Roger, we believe you — athletes of your stature rarely question the substances that are injected into their bodies. You’re all just a bunch of ignorant racehorses, wrapped in million-dollar bodies.

But then, the obnoxious assertions against the allegations that fly in the face of logic and assume that we are all blithering idiots comes right out of the Bonds Book of Denial — so maybe it wasn’t Palmeirospeak after all.

Here’s how it works: player uses the “unknowingly used” gambit to appear the victim, while simultaneously claiming to being completely oblivious to the fact that no naturally occurring substance could possibly push him to previously unreachable levels. It was all in his dedication to the workout, wasn’t it?

The Mitchell Report states what we’ve all guessed for a decade: Clemens was able to become the best pitcher in baseball history in his late 30s in much the same way Bonds was able to become the best hitter in history during the same age range — from technology, and specifically, performance-enhancing drugs.

Let’s get serious here … when you get into your early 30s — never mind your late 30s — your body starts breaking down. The things you could do as a 25-year-old are no longer possible. Hand-eye coordination starts to regress, the speed with which you can move your arms and legs slows, reaction time increases, and recovery becomes a more difficult process. You don’t have to be a professional athlete to know these things — all you need to do is drink a little too much one night, and try to wake up and go to work the next morning. Ain’t so easy anymore, is it? If you’re still under 30, then ask one of your elders. Or take a look at the stats of guys like Robin Ventura, Todd Zeile, Dale Murphy, or Jim Rice — specifically, check out their numbers before and after their early 30s. Funny, isn’t it, how their average and power just plummets? Yes, at least part of it has to do with conditioning, but even a tremendous commitment to conditioning does not turn an aging ballplayer into something other-worldly.

There is no doubt that Roger Clemens was one of the hardest working ballplayers of his era. His training program is legendary. The same could be said of Bonds. But there is no way we can believe that these athletes were able to be three or four times as good in their late 30s as they
were in their 20s — not without some chemical help, anyway. To quote Vizzini from Princess Bride, it’s simply implausible.

What IS plausible, is that these players are in denial. I pulled this directly from Wikipedia:

Denial of fact: This form of denial is where someone avoids a fact by lying. This lying can take the form of an outright falsehood (commission), leaving out certain details in order to tailor a story (omission), or by falsely agreeing to something (assent, also referred to as “yesing” behavior). Someone who is in denial of fact is typically using lies in order to avoid facts that they think may be potentially painful to themselves or others.

Denial of responsibility: This form of denial involves avoiding personal responsibility by blaming, minimizing or justifying. Blaming is a direct statement shifting culpability and may overlap with denial of fact. Minimizing is an attempt to make the effects or results of an action appear to be less harmful than they may actually be. Justifying is when someone takes a choice and attempts to make that choice look okay due to their perception of what is “right” in a situation. Someone using denial of responsibility is usually attempting to avoid potential harm or pain by shifting attention away from themselves.

Denial of impact: Denial of impact involves a person avoiding thinking about or understanding the harms their behavior have caused to themselves or others. By doing this, that person is able to avoid feeling a sense of guilt and it can prevent that person from developing remorse or empathy for others. Denial of impact reduces or eliminates a sense of pain or harm from poor decisions.

Denial of awareness: This type of denial is best discussed by looking at the concept of state dependent learning[1]. People using this type of denial will avoid pain and harm by stating they were in a different state of awareness (such as alcohol or drug intoxication or on occasion mental health related). This type of denial often overlaps with denial of responsibility.

Denial of cycle: Many who use this type of denial will say things such as, “it just happened.” Denial of cycle is where a person avoids looking at their decisions leading up to an event or does not consider their pattern of decision making and how harmful behavior is repeated. The pain and harm being avoided by this type of denial is more of the effort needed to change the focus from a singular event to looking at preceding events. It can also serve as a way to blame or justify behavior (see above).

Denial of denial: This can be a difficult concept for many people to identify in themselves, but is a major barrier to changing hurtful behaviors. Denial of denial involves thoughts, actions and behaviors which bolster confidence that nothing needs to be changed in one’s personal behavior. This form of denial typically overlaps with all of the other forms of denial, but involves more self-delusion.

Sounds all too familiar, from too many players, doesn’t it?

Legally, there likely won’t be enough evidence to put Roger Clemens behind bars — and I’m not convinced a steroid user should be jailed anyway. But he’s already convicted in the court of public opinion, and some weak interview on 60 Minutes won’t change that. Rather, it makes him more despicable.

Please, Roger, spare us from the assumption that we are morons — it’s not becoming. We know you’re desperate to get into the Hall of Fame, but you’ll still have a strong chance of making it, even with the knowledge of your misdeeds. Americans tend to be forgiving — but only when the perpetrator admits to his mistakes and asks for forgiveness.