After last night’s thriller [1], today’s game was almost certain to be a letdown — but unfortunately it was worse than that. It was the inverse of last night, with the key plays going minutely but decisively the Giants’ way. Omar Quintanilla and Daniel Murphy were just a bit slow trying to turn the double play with runners on the corners and one out in the fourth, giving San Francisco what would be a decisive second run [2]. With the tying run on third and two out in the sixth, Wilmer Flores cracked a hard grounder off Madison Bumgarner’s foot that took a funhouse bounce to Buster Posey at first. And with two out in the ninth and Matt den Dekker at second, Anthony Recker’s bit for Satinesque glory was denied — the hard shot he hit down the third-base line was foul by a couple of inches.
So it goes sometimes, in good years and bad. And now we’re down to the Mets’ pursuit of being bad enough [3] to sign free agents without surrendering a first-round pick (because we’re of course going to sign notable free agents), and to awaiting the arrival of Wilfredo Tovar, slated to be Met No. 968 in The Holy Books. (Call off your vigils — he had a 2012 Bowman Chrome card I’d missed.)
Oh — and we’ll get David Wright back, probably tomorrow night in Philadelphia. Wright’s apparently still sore, but determined to give the few remaining fans some chunk of their money’s worth. (He’d also like to hit in Philadelphia — David Wright is no fool.)
If that seems like thin gruel as the fire burns down and winter begins to growl at the door, don’t mutter. You’ll tell your grandchildren how David Wright was one of the few things that kept us going through these lean years, and how awesome it was to see his faith and ours repaid with those three consecutive titles. Well, at least the first part.
Earlier this summer a little moment reminded me of why I should never take Wright for granted. The Mets were in D.C., and Wright wound up near the stands, in possession of a ball that had landed foul. He looked into the seats and found himself a few feet from three fans — a pretty young woman wearing a Nats top and two dudes in Mets gear who could charitably be described as nondescript.
The woman in the Nats top beamed at Wright. The dudes kind of stood there. Wright looked at her, hesitated — and handed the ball to one of the Mets fans.
We don’t deserve him, I thought — not for the first time, and not for the last.