There are so many things to marvel at when it comes to the Mets, and when it comes to the men who own and operate the Mets. The product, at present, speaks for itself, an endless string of banana-peel days and clown-shoe nights, much of it courtesy of a general manager whose shelf life has come dangerously close to expiration.
But as easy a target as Sandy Alderson has become — and make no mistake, if he can’t be blamed for the team’s injuries he is very much on the hook for the razor-thin roster of replacements that have caused this teetering wreck of a season — it is always important to remember: He just works here.