Shockingly, flipping the calendar to July did not, in fact, mean an end to the Mets’ woes.
Here’s the faintest of silver linings about this terrible, horrible, no-good, very very very bad season: awful, soul-killing, rip-your-heart-out losses no longer even leave a mark.
The Mets led Toronto by a cool 5-0 early Tuesday night, with Asdrubal Cabrera [1], Devin Mesoraco [2] and Wilmer Flores [3] connecting for home runs off a Jays pen reduced to calling audibles, what with starter Marco Estrada [4] out after a mere dozen pitches. Meanwhile, Zack Wheeler [5] was mowing down opponents. Surely a laugher was under way.
But no, these are the Mets. Wheeler tired, homecoming kid Jose Bautista [6] made an overaggressive error, and the Mets’ bullpen came in and was awful even by its low standards. Somehow, the Mets lost, 8-6 [7].
When the wreckage of this season is sifted through, Anthony Swarzak [8]‘s inexplicably awful campaign will be one of the exhibits to regard with sour disbelief. Swarzak had established himself as a pretty reliable reliever, and his signing seemed like an inarguably good move by the Mets. But he got hurt and has been simply horrendous since returning, pitching tentatively and ineffectively night after night. Swarzak made the mess worse and gave way to Robert Gsellman [9], who threw a not-low-enough change to low-ball hitter Yangervis Solarte [10]. He clobbered it for a three-run homer, tying the game. Then Tim Peterson [11], who not so long ago we had anointed as a savior by default, came in and gave up a two-run jack to Lourdes Gurriel Jr. [12]
Those are the specifics, but we all know they don’t particularly matter. The Mets, being the Mets, were going to fuck up somehow, leaving everyone involved to look grim while Mickey Callaway [13] calmly said his usual stupid shit. As the roof caved in I didn’t swear or sigh. I just shrugged. It’s been that kind of year. There’s a lot of that kind of year yet to go.