Actually, there's no mystery as to how K-Rod will act as a provocateur. He'll save a close game, either at Citizen Bank Park or at Citi Field, and then raise the curtain on his one-man celebration: the new Mets' closer will point to the heavens, let out a howl that's a rung below primal and otherwise act as if he'd brought down the Berlin Wall.

You think the Mets and Phillies hate each other now? Just wait.

David Wright and Jimmy Rollins might act like they're allies during the World Baseball Classic — and for now, technically, they are. But give it about a millisecond after the U.S. team's final out and they'll be staring each other down again, like the North and South Koreans across the 38th parallel.

Enter Rodriguez, whose demeanor, body language — and, yes, his excellence — are all highly flammable. The right-hander is as flamboyant as he is talented, which is why he made so few friends last year while leading the majors with 62 saves.

There's a story that Yankee insiders have been telling since the All-Star Game last July. As the Stadium clubhouse was being prepared for the influx of American Leaguers, Mariano Rivera pulled aside Yankees clubhouse manager Rob Cucuzza and made an emphatic request.

Keep K-Rod's locker on the other side of the room.

Coming from the laid-back Angels, who are well-liked and well-respected throughout the AL, Rodriguez has never been exposed to this kind of animosity. He has no idea how closely he'll be watched, how his every action will be vetted by the anti-Met army 100 miles way.

When Rodriguez casually said the Mets, "are the team to beat" in the East, he probably meant it as a throw-away line. It might've been — in Anaheim. But not now, not in a rivalry that's got everyone tightly wrapped in its long tentacles.

Just wait until K-Rod's first save against the Phillies. Wait until he goes skyward with his index fingers. Just wait — the apocalypse is surely coming.