Mets top Marlins, Wright tops Strawberry

No need to fear the Fish! It’s not like the Marlins owners spent a bunch of money on new players.

Oh, wait.

The Mets hoist the Flag of Victory for the second game in a row against the rival Marlins, though the game was closer than the 5-1 final score would indicate.

Kudos to David Wright. His third homer of the year finally allows him to overtake Darryl Strawberry to be the team’s all-time runs batter leader.

Wright already holds the team record for career doubles, and could even catch Ed Kranepool for the lead in hits.

Jose is back? Mets salute former friend with Flag of Victory

I confess that after the Giants series and the number of Mets added to the disabled list this week, I wasn’t sure we’d see the Flag of Victory any time soon.

Things didn’t look good on paper, to be sure. The newly named nemesis from South Florida was making its first pass through town with the shortstop we know and used to love. Their ace hurler was on the mound and our better hitters still looks lost.

Heck, Ike Davis doesn’t look lost, he is lost. 

Shame on me for doubting. Johan Santana threw a gem. Not that he got any run support, mind you. But the Marlins bullpen gave the Mets a run, and Lucas Duda ripped a drive off a Fish pitcher to bring in the go-ahead run.

Frank Francisco remembered what closers are supposed to do, and we can hoist the flag proudly with a 2-1 win.

Twin defeat at the hands of Giants means a double dose of Gnomes of Defeat

Well, the only thing uglier than the Mets Saturday victory over the Giants was the double-butt-kicking dispensed by the Giants on Monday.

Hey, remember when we used to have a winning record? Now we’ve seen the Gnome of Defeat as many times as the Flag of Victory.

In the first game, Miguel Batista made a rare start, and made it perfectly clear why his starts should be rare – or non-existent, even.

On the bright side, and there aren’t many in a 6-1 loss, newcomer Jeremy Hefner came on after Batista and did not stink up the joint.

The second game wasn’t any better. Dillon Gee pitched as if he wanted to see how high he could get his ERA.

A 7-2 loss makes for a double dose of gnomes, but at least the Giants are headed out of town.

Sheepishly flying the Victory Flag as Mets beat Giants

Sometimes you proudly fly the Flag of Victory, and sometimes you sort of sheepishly but it out there and say, “Oh, we won. Hey, look over there!”

Mike Pelfrey got hosed, plain and simple. He pitched eight strong innings and was pulled in the ninth with a 4-1 lead because, well, you have to use a closer in a save situation no matter what.

Except, for the second night in a row, the bullpen stunk it up. It had help. Kirk Niewenhuis overran a fly ball, allowing it to drop in and the tying run to score.

Kirk redeemed himself in the bottom of the ninth. Sort of. He came up with runners on second and third and one out, tapped one to first base. Brandon Belt threw the ball to catcher Buster Posey for an out, and Posey’s throw back to first was knocked ajar by Scott Hairston’s slide.

That allowed Reuben Tejada to score the winning run, snapping the three-game losing streak and sending the Gnome of Defeat into hiding.

Jason Bay, friend to Gnomes of Defeat

We’re getting a little too friendly with the Gnome of Defeat.

The Mets newfangled bullpen has been in a bit of a funk, and managed to throw away a fine bottom of the ninth comeback on Friday against the Giants.

The team was down 3-2 and managed to get a run home, only to have Frank Francisco give it right back in the top of the 10^th inning.

The bottom had Daniel Murphy and David Wright leading off to fill second and first, moved over by Ike Davis.

That left men on second and third, with one out and Jason Bay at the plate. A fly ball ties it, and if there’s something Jason Bay knows how to do, it’s hit pop flies.

Alas, this time he strikes out.

Lucas Duda worked the count and fouled off a bunch of pitches before ending the game, and not in a good way.

Well, the Gnome of Defeat is still making the rounds in Lansing. Looks like he’s getting closer to the state Capitol.

Roaming Gnome of Defeat means Mets struggled mightily in Atlanta

The Gnome of Defeat apparently likes to hit the road, making his way around Lasning this week.

Sadly, his appearance means the Mets again fell to the dreaded Braves, 14-6. R.A. Dickey's knuckleball apparently can't flutter in the rain. And do you know what you call a knuckleball that can't flutter? Usually a double, if not a dinger.

On the bright side, David Wright tied Darryl Strawberry in the Mets' all-tme runs batted in ranking. And Kirk Nieuwenhuis batted leadoff, reached base four times, scored half the team's runs and is making sure Andres Torres regrets that Opening Day injury.

Gnome of Defeat makes an Atlanta appearance

Well, you knew the Mets wouldn't get through the Atlanta House of Horrors without the Gnome of Defeat making at least one appearance.

Johan Santana just didn't have it, through he wasn't helped by the Mets defense, which has not been spectacular outside of Jason Bay's Endy moment on Monday.

Johan lasted just 1.1 innings, giving up 6 runs on 4 hits.

On the bright side, David Wright continued his hot hitting, with a little bit of a streak going there.

Ike and Gee send Braves, Gnome packing

Ike Davis seems back -- and chases the Gnome of Defeat away.

The Mets bounced back from Sunday's bullpen meltdown to beat up the Braves 6-1.

Dillon Gee was sharp, taking a 1-1 battle against Tommy Hanson into the sixth inning.

But Hanson apparently didn't see the highlights from Sunday's game in Philly and thought he could get one over on the previously slumping Davis.

That wa a three-run mistake, as Davis deposited one over the fence. Josh Thole continues to swing well, and Ruben Tejada made up for his skunky day in Citizens Bank Park with a double and a RBI.

So the Flag of Victory flies proudly and the Gnome of Defeat is sent packing, possibly for a road trip to Lansing.

Gnome of Defeat tells us that Mets fail to sweep Phillies

Living in Michigan, I’m surrounded by people who might not be able to hear quickly whether the Mets have won or lost.

Oh, there are lots of places they hear about the Tigers. And it’s possible that many of the neighbors care more about the team from Motown instead of our Big Apple-based heroes.

But, well, they should care about the Mets, too.

I like to help my neighbors. They’re nice people, even the one around the corner who never waves back. So since Opening Day I’ve developed a system that allows them to see instantly whether the boys in blue and orange – and only occasionally black – emerged victorious from that day’s contest.

On those days, the mighty Flag of Victory flies proudly outside the Mets Guy home, alerting all that they can rest that night that good things happen and the world is in its rightful orbit.

Then, on the rare days when the Mets are not entirely victorious, the Gnome of Defeat appears. The gnome, a gift from my mother, is not entirely sad. He knows that there is usually another game tomorrow and reminds people to keep their chin up and hope for better things and injuries to the Phillies.

While the flag is anchored to the house, the Gnome of Defeat roams freely and there’s really no telling where he is going to show up. There’s an alternative Flag of Victory, too, that might go mobile.

I’ve been posting photos of the flag or gnome on Facebook after each game, but my colleague Angela suggested that I post them somewhere else with a quick recap. She’s one of those Tigers people and Brandon Inge likes her. She also might not like her Facebook news feed cluttered with flag and gnome photos.

So we’ll start with today’s 8-2 loss to the dreaded Phillies. The Mets had a nice performance from Mike Pelfrey, who held the Phils to just run through six innings. Sadly, there were three more innings, and Terry Collins brought in the bullpen.

Ruben Tejada picked today to do bad things, and wild pitches, bases-loaded walks and bumbled plays by out-of-position outfielders did not help.

But Ike Davis got out of his funk and launched one that darn near landed in Bull’s Barbecue.
So, the flag comes down and the Gnome of Defeat is roaming freely on the lawn.

Trying to embrace the Randy Myers year, but without the nastiness

The Mets are loudly celebrating their 50th season this year, but I’m being a little more sedate in celebrating my 48th, which arrives today.

Looking at the list of Mets who have worn No. 48 is not inspiring -- though it gives us some hope for the year ahead.

The essential “Mets by the Numbers” by John Springer and Matthew Silverman tells us that the team has issued the number 18 times, all to pitchers and coaches who used to be pitches – with the exception of Red Kress, a former shortstop who did, in fact, appear in four games as a pitcher.

Kress was a coach during the 1962 season and promptly died at its conclusion, becoming the first late Met.

Joe Nolan was a catcher with No. 48, but be never made it into a game during his very short stint with the team, so he doesn’t really count.

Others with 48 on their back included Nino Espinosa, Randy Tate, Juan Berenguer, Pete Schourek, Pedro Martinez – but not the one you’re thinking of – Glendon Rusch and Ed Glynn, who was perhaps more famous for being a Shea hot dog vendor before taking the mound.

Dan Murray’s 1999 Mets tenure was brief, but he’s one of three Murrays to appear on the team and offers hope that there’s an affordable, game-worn Murray Mets jersey out there.

Aaron “Bleeping” Heilman’s bad pitch to Yadier Molina is the reason I witnessed the Cardinals in Game One of the 2006 World Series in Detroit and not the beloved Mets. So we're not going to dedicate the year to him.

That leaves reliever Randy Myers. Famous for wearing camo when not clad in pinstripes, Myers had a couple fine seasons in the Mets pen, including 26 saves and a 1.72 ERA in 1988.

Fans were sad to see him go when Myers was traded to Cincinnati for John Franco, who became a Mets Hall of Famer.

Myers became one of Cincy’s fearsome “Nasty Boys” bullpen that was key to the team’s World Series win. And he set a then-National League record with 53 saves for the Cubs in 1993.

So I’ll try to navigate this year without the pain of Heilman, because we’ve had enough already. But I’ll take the lesson of Myers to heart. It might seem like things are going well, but a change of scenery might be what it takes to bring out the very best in me. But I’d like to avoid the camo, if possible.

The epic search for the coolest LEGO ever

I've decided this is the coolest LEGO ever – and pretty
elusive, too.

Caroline and I discovered its existence when we saw a display in Target. But you just can’t buy the Statue of Liberty. LEGO sells figures in sealed bags, and the sixth series has 16 figures. Some are pretty cool, like a Minotaur. Some kind of suck, like a crying little kid with a Teddy bear.

We spent more time than we cared to admit squeezing bags trying to see if we could feel the crown. We ended up with two Minotaurs and a surgeon.

We thought it might be cheaper to find the figure on eBay,but, well, it was not.
There’s a huge LEGO store in Chicago’s Water Tower Place right next to American Girl Place, no doubt to give dads and brothers a place to which to escape.

The store sells all kinds of individual blocks, so I hoped there would be some Lady Liberties there without the guesswork.

There were all kinds of sets and blocks, but nothing separating our favorite national landmark. We asked a clerk, and he pointed to a bin of the familiar little bags.

I started squeezing bags when Joshua, another clerk, came over and asked which figure we were looking for.

“That’s a popular one,” he said. “But there’s a trick to finding her.”

Two of the figures, Liberty and a flamenco dancer, have a solid, triangular shaped base instead of the usual bendable LEGO legs.

We dug into the bin, squeezing the bags. Joshua was an expert. “This is a flamenco dancer,” he said, fingers squeezing the triangular brick. “This one might be Liberty, but I can’t be sure.”

We assembled stacks of certain flamenco dancers, and possible Liberties. As with Target, this went on longer than we care to admit.

“Wait!” Joshua said, holding a bag. “This is a Liberty, I can almost guarantee it. I think I can feel the torch.”

I had to believe the fine-fingered expert, so we moved over to the register with the bag and a Star Wars stormtrooper key chain for Caroline.

After paying for our treasurers, Joshua pulled out a pair of scissors. “Ready for the reveal?”

Slicing open the bag, I reached in and pulled out a green block – confirming that the elusive Lady Liberty figure was in hand.

I was excited. I think Joshua was relieved.

'Always assume the camera is on and the mic is hot'

I bonded with my daughter over make-up. Normally I’d say that’s not a good thing for a father, but we had a pretty good reason: I needed to look my best for national television.

The political world’s spotlight was on Michigan last week. Rick Santorum and Mitt Romney were campaigning hard to win the state’s Republican presidential primary and gain momentum heading into this week’s “Super Tuesday” showdown.

I’ve been part of my media group’s team covering the campaigns, specifically keeping an eye on Santorum. The former Pennsylvania senator was coming off a trio of wins and was neck-and-neck with Romney as Election Day neared.

That’s about as good as it gets for a political junkie.

Our jobs at the newspaper have changed a bit in the last year, moving beyond print and even the website. We had a role in an afternoon radio program for much of the year. And the nice folks at WGVU, our local public television channel, have invited me to appear a number of times on “West Michigan Week,” a Sunday morning news talk show.

It’s been said that I have a face for radio and a voice for print, but they keep asking me back.

With focus on Michigan politics getting sharper, CNN on Friday came looking for some local expertise to appear on camera. The call was bounced to me. A CNN producer asked for some background about which issues were important in the state, and why Santorum seemed to be doing well in the state where his chief rival was born.

I was to be at the WGVU studio for make-up at 3:45 p.m. on Sunday, with a “chair time” of 4:05 and a “hit time” of 4:15. I learned all kinds of new terms.

Oh, and would I like a car to pick me up?


I decided to drive myself, and Caroline and I headed down to the studio very early, adopting her marching band mantra of “early is on time,on time is late and late is unacceptable.”

Much debate went into the outfit, and we settled on my blacksuit and red tie with little drawings of the White House that look like stripes.

Mary, a make-up artist, soon arrived and opened a bag full of all kinds of cosmetics. She must have sensed I was nervous and eased my fears by telling me how everything worked.

As she dabbed foundation and concealer on my face, Mary told me that she’s called fairly regularly to WGVU to make up people appearing on CNN and FOX. The local stations don’t like allowing the cable networks to use their facilities, but the public television station gladly allows its studios to be rented.

“It brings a lot of money into the station,” she said. “You’re helping a lot of people just by appearing, so don’t be nervous.”

Mary said most of the people who pass through are friendly, especially former GOP candidate Herman Cain, who appeared earlier in the week and impressed all with his charm and singing.



Properly made up for my first time ever, we walked down the hall to the studio. It is the same room where we film “West Michigan Week,” but set up differently. There was a bookcase on wheels that gets used as a library-like backdrop, but today the producers choose a green screen to project a photo of the Grand Rapids skyline.

There was a chair on a platform with a little table with a glass of water, set up facing a camera.

Students working in the studio set me up with an earpiece through which I’d hear the program and instructions, and a microphone clipped to my jacket with a battery pack slipped into my jacket’s pocket.

Then we waited.

There wasn’t a monitor, since live television isn’t exactly live, as there is a slight delay. So I’d be having a conversation with a camera lens.

I could hear the show in the earpiece, and then I heard a voice. “This is control in Atlanta. We’re going to do a mic check. Can you count to five?”

Finally, the moment came. I was being interviewed with a Detroit Free Press editorial writer. I’d been mentally preparing answers, but the first question was unexpected: Why did my newspaper endorse Romney? I had an idea why, and I was part of the interviews with Romney when he campaigned for the nomination in 2008. I think I pulled it off.

Caroline snapped this on a control room monitor. Grand Rapids was not really behind me.

The second question was about the top issues. The Detroit writer went first and covered the jobs issue. This time I was ready. Our “West Michigan Week” show on Friday was with a pollster who told us about how Romney’s Mormon faith could be an unspoken problem if the race is tight. I think that one went well.

Then I heard, “OK, we’re clear.”

Here’s something I learned. I assumed the camera was on me only when I was talking. What I didn’t realize was that the network was running a shot with me, the Detroit writer and the host. I licked my lips a couple times when the other people were talking because they were so dry in the studio. And, well, now everyone watching knows that.

“Always assume the camera is on and the mic is hot,” a veteran television reporter told me the next day at a Romney rally.

My Lansing Bureau colleague Brandon snapped the great screen shot that I've posted, well, everywhere.

Wall Street Journal radio called on Monday and asked for an interview. Then C-SPAN sent word it was looking for someone to talk about the race during the Santorum Election Night – and then ABC News radio also wanted someone to talk on air about the event.

Election Night parties are staged largely for the media.

Campaigns want images of their candidate giving a victory speech before an adoring crowd in a packed room beamed out around the country. What folks watching at home don’t know is that there are as many media people in the room as there are adoring supporters.

The ballroom in Grand Rapids had a decorated stage, with Santorum’s banner hanging behind the podium.

But much of the rest was set aside for the media, which platforms and lights, and lots of tables for reporters to bang out stories on laptops. There were miles of cords and cables.

I found my new friends at C-SPAN – very nice people -- early in the night and they walked me through what would happen. It would be very different from the CNN appearance.

No make-up, green screen or empty studio this time.

I was to balance on a crowded platform with my back to the podium so the adoring supporters would serve as a backdrop. Other reporters and their camera crews were out of camera range, but within an arm’s reach.
Again there would be an earpiece to hear the host, and there was a little stand with a volume control before me, waist high. One of the producers attached a small microphone to my lapel, and used duct tape to make sure the wires stayed hidden and attached to the sport jacket’s lining.
Producers were just a couple feet away, monitoring the activity on a laptop.
This session went longer, with the host asking questions about the atmosphere at the party and why Romney seemed to be struggling in his native state. We also talked about Michigan going for the Democratic candidate in past presidential elections, and the value of being a swing state.

I was careful not to lick my lips – this time.

Santorum came out around a half-hour later to give a not-quite-concession speech, and then the national media packed up and headed out to Ohio – to find other print reporters for their 15 minutes of national fame.

My awesome Cornerstone students were on hand and documented every moment of the C-SPAN appearance.

Thank you, Gary Carter

When we lost Donn Clendenon not too long ago, I noted how difficult it was to see the heroes of 1969 growing old and passing on.

Today I realized something more difficult, and that’s losing the heroes of 1986 before they have a chance to grow old.

I looked for a baseball card that best summed up my memories of Gary Carter, one with that mega-watt smile that seemed to show us how much he loved playing baseball.

Then I figured there was no reason to stop at just one.




Gary Carter helped make it fun to be a Mets fan in the 1980s. And unlike some of his teammates, he remained a role model.

Hostess cards and the betrayals of 1977

I’m in a bad place this week -- an ugly place. Which means it is a good time to talk about the 1977 season and the Hostess set.

As we said earlier, 1976 was a fun, buoyant time. We had no idea what kind of nasty storm was approaching.

Part of the problem is that I’m too loyal to people, teams and places and I always think that people, teams and places whom I give love and devotion will continue to treat me and mine well. So I spend a fair amount of time in shock and disbelief when they do not.

Yeah, I know.

So the 13-year-old Mets Guy took the events of 1977 very personally.

The team stumbled out of the gate, with manager Joe Fraizer getting bounced after a 15-30 start, replaced by Joe Torre, who became the Mets first player-manager, with the player part lasting about two weeks.

Then came the massacre, the June 15 trade deadline that found the team shipping Tom Seaver to the Reds for four players. While management was at it, it sent Dave Kingman to the Padres.

I distinctly remember watching the news on television, pounding on the floor that Charlton Heston at the end of “Planet of the Apes.”

The team spiraled down for the remainder of the season, finishing 64-98, the Mets’ first last-place finish since 1967.

Making it worse, the Yankees won the World Series and most of the neighborhood kids jumped on the bandwagon to the Bronx Zoo as Shea became Grant’s Tomb.

Not me, of course. I voiced outrage over Steve Henderson getting robbed by Andre Dawson in Rookie of the Year voting and expected Pat Zachary to be the new staff ace.

The Hostess set was again 150 cards, five of them Mets. That includes Seaver and Kingman. The others are Jerry Koosman, who suffered a 20-loss season despite a respectable ERA, Jon Matlack and Felix Millan.

The design is pretty drab – though not as drab as what was to come—with white borders and player names in a semi-circle.

Looking back, I realize that heading to Cincinnati was painful but probably the best thing for Seaver, who piled up wins, pitched his no-hitter and would have been handed a fourth Cy Young Award had writers not gotten swept up in Fernando Mania.

Hopefully I’ll look back at the events of this week in the same way.

Hostess baseball cards in 1976 fit in with good times, bicentennial

The Hostess sets printed on the bottoms of snack boxes between 1975 and 1979 looked pretty similar, with the white borders and simple listing of a player's name, team and position.

Except, of course, for the 1976 issue.

The cards have bold red, white and blue bars across the bottom – making sure they'd blend in perfectly with everything else during that magical bicentennial year.

The patriotism that flowed in the wake of the 2001 terrorism attacks is the only other time I remember seeing so much red, white and blue. That was for healing. But in 1976, it was for celebrating.

It was a good time, even for Mets fans. Slipped in between Watergate and the Carter malaise, people were upbeat, thinking boldly.

Hawthorn elementary school did the unthinkable, conducting a massive carnival to raise enough money to send the entire fifth and sixth grades to Philadelphia for a day, a spot that was easily considered Bicentennial Central.

This was an adventure of the highest order – the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall and Ben Franklin's privy, which was cooler when we learned what it was. Remember, we were 12.

Nothing was missed. Even our school photos that year had a Spirit of '76 flag in the background.

The Mets did not suck. The team finished in third place, but with 86 wins, which was the franchise's second-highest total for a long time.

Dave Kingman bashed 37 home runs, steady Eddie Kranepool hit .292, Jerry Koosman had his big 21-win season and Jon Matlack had 17 wins.

Kingman started in the All-Star Game, played in Philadelphia, of course. The National League won, also of course.

As for the Hostess set, I count seven Mets among the 150 cards: Kingman, Seaver, Bud Harrelson, Jerry Grote, Matlack, Felix Millan, and Mike Vail, who is a short-print.

Vail's presence is notable, as he was the rookie whose brief success in 1975 led to Rusty Staub's unfortunate exodus to Detroit.

I only recently acquired the Seaver,and the photo looks like it was used on some Topps leader cards. I also have the Kingman and Grote.

The rest remain elusive.

We had no idea of the horrors that awaited in 1977, but 1976 was a good time for all.

Twinkies were fine, but the cards were better

I confess there was some sadness when I learned this week that Hostess was filing for bankruptcy.

It's not a love for Twinkies, you understand. I haven't enjoyed one in years.

But from 1975 to 1979, I'd rush to the Twinkies section of Dan's Supreme and Pathmark to turn over box after box, scanning the bottom for elusive Mets. There were cards issued in 1993, too, but that was different. We'll get to that.

But during the Topps baseball card monopoly, the company issued one set of cards. That's different from today, when the company also seems to have a monopoly but issues many, many sets.

But back in the 1970s, the only other cards out there were linked to the occasional food items, printed on the bottom of the box.

It wasn't easy to find the Mets. It was an epic search.

Consider that there 150 cards in the sets. These were some of the Mets “quiet years,” so there were not many of our players in the sets. There were three cards to a box. It's not like there were unlimited of Twinkies boxes.

On a great day, Mom needed something on the store when the shelves were stocked, and I could overturn the entire display searching for Tom Seaver, who was always the priority, or other Mets.

There were some difficult choices. Buying multiple boxes was not an option. And the stock was picked through pretty quickly given all the Mets fans in Massapequa Park.


On the bright side, I could make purchases confidently since the cards were plainly visible on the box bottoms. I didn't have to buy a box merely hoping that Bud Harrelson was nestled under a “golden sponge cake with creamy frosting inside.”

Let's look at each year's cards, starting with the 1975 set. The design in as plain as can be, which stood in sharp contrast to that year's wildly colored Topps issue.




The Seaver card is, of course, spectacular, even with the tape marks. Cut me some slack, I was 11.

I also rounded up a Harrelson and a John Milner. Tom and Buddy were snapped in spring training, and Milner has the beautiful Shea batter's eye in the background.

The Staub card was acquired later. Two years ago it was the subject of some magnificent sleuthing by my friends in the Crane Pool Forum.



I wondered if this was just the worst case of airbrushing ever. Topps back in the day would paint uniforms on traded players. And sometimes, well, let's just say no one was fooled.

There was a long-suspected photo connection between Hostess and Topps.

Note that the Expos logo is still clearly visable on Rusty’s chest. Topps often would leave collar trim in plain view, but never an entire team logo.

Then it appears an artist started adding Mets pinstripes on Rusty’s unstriped Expos jersey, then got distracted and stopped.

And keep in mind, this card is from 1975. Rusty was traded to the Mets at the start of the 1972 season.

Crane Pool Forum poster batmgadanleadoff offered a theory that maked great sense.

Rusty, it is known, had some kind of beef with Topps, because his cards do not appear in the 1972 and 1973 sets. His first Mets card is in the 1974 issue.

His guess is that the screwup with the Expos "elb" logo and pinstriping was not an artist's oversight, but that the photo was supposed to be cropped higher up, at around Staub's neck and through the shoulder line.

“I've seen several proofs of old Topps cards where the cap or helmet was airbrushed to reflect the player's brand new team,” he wrote. “In those proofs, the jersey top (former team) was left unaltered. The final card was cropped above the jersey.”

That makes sense to me. And I was convinced when the fine people behind the Ultimate Mets Database created this mock-up of what an air-brushed 1972 Topps Staub card might have looked like.


There are no such horror with the 1976 set, which we'll tackle next.