Lupica Wept.

During last night's game, in the top of the second inning, with the Mets already leading 4-0, Met Matinee Idol and Merch-Mover David Wright came up with the bases loaded and two outs.

This was the moment Mike Lupica has been waiting for. This grand slam (or perhaps a sublime, bases-clearing double) was going to seal the deal.

The Mets would Officially take back the City.

This was the tipping point. The argument would finally be settled. New York City would belong to the orange and blue once again. This has always been an NL town, anyway. Nobody thinks the Tigers (now 30 games over .500) can beat Willie Randolph's team (now 15 games over .500) straight up.

Hunched over their keyboards, I'm quite sure the Met-Head writers in New York were salivating.

Even during the at-bat, as Wright was fouling off pitches, he did so with a certain elegance and a portentous swagger. Wright knew the grand slam was coming, you knew the grand slam was coming, Omar and Rickey knew the grand slam was coming, and the thousands of Met fans who had trekked to the Bronx -- 7 train to the 4 train (transfer at Grand (Slam) Central Station) -- and who wore their Mets paraphernalia with a little more sheen and pride these days -- they knew the grand slam was coming.

No more Yankees and their overwrought drama. Steinbrenner is so 20th Century. Nobody owns this city forever. New Kids on the Block taking down the Evil Empire.

I smell a Pulitzer.

On a 3-2 pitch, Wright popped up and the inning was over. (Unclear if Wright choked under the pressure of playing in New York, or if he'll ever be able to handle the pressure of playing in New York.)

In the next inning, ARod hit a grand slam.

A couple of innings after that, ARod hit a tack-on three-run hr.

(Don't look now, but Boo-Rod the Overrated has just two less RBIs than M-V-P Flavor-of-the-Month David Wright.)

Poor Mike Lupica. Now he'll have to write about Isiah Thomas instead.