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Bob Melvin? You’re kidding me, right? Robert Paul Freaking Melvin? The team is in free fall and franchise value is plummeting like Madoff-backed securities, and you Fred Wilpon are poised to give the fans of the New York Mets one Bob Melvin?!
Bob Melvin? Really. Bob Freaking Melvin. You mean 493-508 lifetime Bob Melvin. Oh, that Bob Melvin.
The Bob Melvin with no ties to franchise history, no karmic capital with the shrinking fan base, the man who finished second to Wally Backman in the D’backs managerial sweepstakes before self-destructing. That Bob Melvin.
Seriously, Bob Melvin? Say it out loud….Bob Melvin. There’s hope for you! May as well hope for David Wright to strike out less than 200 times or Jose Reyes to crack the mighty .230 barrier.
Bob Melvin – the Bobby who is not named Valentine, the guy who is not our Leo Durocher, our Billy Martin, our Earl Weaver. That Bob Melvin. The Bob Melvin who will only encourage the mass exodus in June from the precincts of the Promenade and the over-priced and stupidly-named sections below.
Bob Melvin. That’s what Fred Wilpon thinks of you, Mr. Met Fan.
Bob Freaking Melvin.
Bob Melvin.
Bob Melvin.
Yes, Bob Melvin.
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