If you wanna go by what the New York Post says — and in this instance, why the hell not? — it’s time we got to the bottom (literally) of Bartolo Colon, so we can find out what else the guy might be hiding (besides another woman and a couple of kids). Who knows? Maybe Jimmy Hoffa is in there?

Colon is slated to be on the hill tonight against the Nats. But seein’ as how his two-timing backside was hauled into court Monday by Alexandra Santos, who claims the $7 million-sausage-in-a-uniform is a deadbeat dad, who friggin’ knows? I mean if it were me, there’s no way I could concentrate, but then I have a conscience — something that would keep me outta this kinda pickle in the first place. Colon, on the other hand, plays for the Mets. That and the fact that he’s been HIDING the pickle with someone other than Mrs Colon — and he’s able to sleep at night anyway — mean that a conscience doesn’t come standard on the Bartolo model. (Although 3 or 4 spare tires do.)

Can’t say I’m surprised. He’s a Met (whatever the hell that is) and as a result obviously can’t be trusted. If the Post’s article is true … well … Bartolo’s got some splainin’ to do. Although, I’m not sure Rosanna, his better half — or in Bartolo’s case probably just 15% — really gives a crap. She said she knew all about his other kids. Which means she knows about Ms Santos, too. Not sure why all that’s ok with her, but I’d guess it has something to do with the bank account Big Sexy keeps fully stocked. They sound like they’re made for each other.

Pretty sad for those kids if Colon is actually their father but he’s not willing to step up and support ’em. But hey, like I said, he’s a Met. Not that this isn’t a serious deal, but the funny side of all this is that the child-support case in question is listed on official papers as “Anonymous v. Anonymous.” Because of that, the only reason you, me and the Post found out that Bartolo wasn’t so anonymous after all, was because he’d represented himself in the custody dispute, thus his name was listed as an attorney. Which means Bartolo is not only an alleged dirt bag, he also has a fool for a client.

Joe Anonymous Schlombowski

I’m sitting here watching the Sox and Rays in the 4th, when the plate umpire has to punch out because of an injury. So now we got a delay in the game until the crew chief figures out what to do. But it’s not like the guy was carried off on a stretcher. He just strolls over to the Rays’ dugout on his own power. So … Just give another ump the gear and let’s go already! Nope. Gotta call the blue off the field, like the safety of the free world hangs in the balance.

Anyway, while all this is going on, we’re treated to the analysis of the TBS announcers, including former Met, Ron Darling. (Nice last name, pal.) Well, you know where the conversation goes, right? How it’s gonna be really difficult for the pitchers to sit there for an extra 5 minutes while the umpires are grabbing a sandwich or two in the clubhouse, deciding who’s gonna call the rest of the game. Of course the resident expert, Darling, chimes in, explaining what a hardship it is for a pitcher in this situation — like the unbearable 5 minutes he’s having to endure is gonna totally unravel his mojo.

So Love Muffin (I like that better than ‘Darling’) tells about how when he was playing, he was scheduled to pitch one day but it got postponed for one reason or another. But you know, he had to say goodbye to the family and … arrrrgggghhhh … go allllll the way to the ballpark … uuuuggghhhhh … make arrangements for comp tickets and … get this … since he pitched the next day, he had to go through all that TWICE!

Oh my God.

Good thing you could pitch, Darling, cuz if you’d had a real job you wouldn’t have lasted 15 minutes. Just the kind of guy you want in a fox hole with you.

When I hear crap like that (in addition to wishing I was within choking distance) I figure it’s a window into the world of the person who said it. Like the fact that he didn’t get to ‘play’ when he was expecting to defines adversity for the guy. What happens when he gets a hang nail … 911 and an ambulance to the ER?!

Remember Lou Gehrig, the “luckiest man on the face of the earth” while staring death straight in the eye? (I grant you, he was a Yankee not a Met. But to me, all ballplayers from New York are the same. Which, by the way, explains a lot about the Giants and the Dodgers.) So like I was sayin’, New York ballplayers went from playing-everyday-while-dying-of-cancer tough, to Mr. get-me-a-tissue-the-sky-is-falling candy ass. If that doesn’t summarize why the Mets suck, I don’t know what does.

Joe