Willie Randolph's postgame analysis of whatever we collectively hallucinated in Pittsburgh was harsh. (I had vague hopes of Willie turning over the buffet table, though I knew better — that tradition seems destined to end with Lou Piniella's departure from the managerial ranks.) I can only imagine, though this may be giving a confounding team too much credit, that the various postmortems on the plane to D.C. were harsh as well. But mostly, I was happy that Tom Glavine would be on the mound, his 300-win resume and perfectionism demanding a certain focus from his teammates that had been missing 24 hours earlier. (One of the most-embarrassing memories of an embarrassing period in Mets history remains the sight of Glavine staring out at Roger Cedeno, clearly dumbfounded that a) anyone could play the outfield that badly; and b) that he'd willingly signed up for a team with such players on it.)
Glavine got that focus , thank goodness — and we all got the kind of run-of-the-mill win that's chiefly memorable after blowing 5-0 wins to last-place teams, but welcome all the more for that.
The lasting memory of this game won't be Glavine mixing his pitches the way he once could do routinely, or the sight of Mike DiFelice (now our No. 1 catcher, yipes) chugging into third. Rather, it was Reyes and Castillo turning a CGI-assisted double play. Apparently they've been practicing shovels and transfers in the Matrix. (Castillo, in Keanu Reeves voice: “I know the pivot.”) Good thing, too.
Postscript: This Tim Marchman discussion of Pedro will have you roaring like a “Braveheart” extra by the end. Pedro Martinez is no ordinary man, and every time he's ever been doubted he's shoved it right in everyone's face. It won't be long before he does it again. From Tim's keyboard to the baseball gods' ears.
Martinez may be a legend, but then so is Tom Seaver, and no one expects him to help the Mets down the stretch.
I hate myself for laughing.