All Good Things...

Last night, luxuriating in a 4-0 start, I debated noting that the Mets hadn’t trailed in an inning in 2007. I decided not to — as I wrote to my co-blogger, “Nah. We’ll point it out the first time it’s true.”
Today it was true — part of an unasked-for matching set that included 2007’s first errors, first boneheaded plays, first substantive bad luck and that first disgruntled feeling that follows losing a baseball game.
Smoltz-Glavine II wasn’t a classic along the lines of Smoltz-Pedro two years ago, or even Smoltz-Glavine I. It was long, grinding and slightly tedious, not just for the sloppy plays and the lousy conditions, but for the slow-motion demolition of the whole thing. I did a double-take realizing the Braves had batted around in that dreadful sixth, because it was more a bunch of minor bad things happening than the kind of pummeling that ought to come with Batman-style WHAMs and BIFFs and SOCKs on the screen. Double, single, line out, walk, ball dropped by Green, sac fly, walk, Baltimore chop 50 feet high off the plate, flyout. Ugh. Blame the heavens for Edgar Renteria’s plate job, but Green’s extra out sticks in the craw. For the life of me I cannot understand why baseball players persist in putting their sunglasses atop the brim of their caps on sunny days. (Or leaving them there once the folly of doing so has been demonstrated.)
I suppose you could take heart in a patient ninth inning that came just short. I wound up shaking my head, amused and annoyed at what a kick in the ass baseball can be. David Wright stealing second, putting us one hit away from a tie game and a re-evaluation of that revitalized Braves bullpen, looked like a heads-up play and a vapor-lock by Bob Wickman. Too bad the stolen base let Craig Wilson come off the line, leaving him in perfect position to snare Green’s liner just before it zipped by him. (Talk about it not being Wright’s day.)
“The line drives are caught, the squibbles go for base hits,” Rod Kanehl once said. “It’s an unfair game.” Green and Edgar Renteria can attest to that. On the other hand, the baseball gods don’t give out favors to those who don’t put their sunglasses over their eyes. Nor, I suppose, should they.