Pity the newsbreaker tasked with delivering momentous tidings on April 1, a date which, for some strange reason [1], gives everyone processing such information pause to wonder if it’s real. Indeed, it would be swell if the bulletin from the late afternoon of April 1, 2022 — that Jacob deGrom’s right shoulder is something short of shipshape and Bristol fashion — were standard lazy gag fare.
But, of course, it’s not. We were prepped for the sharp elbow to the face the night before when word went forth that Jake’s business shoulder was feeling tight, serving as a harbinger for the condition of the pit of our stomachs approximately seven seconds later. Jake wouldn’t be pitching Friday’s pretend game. Would Jake be pitching the following Thursday’s real game, the one slated to start the already delayed season?
We learned Friday he won’t be [2]. Or any games for a while. How long that while will last can be calculated via the Metropolitan abacus or whichever app you have handy. Take how long they say he needs to rest (four weeks); add how long you’d figure working out and ramping up will take (at least a month); factor in setbacks (because when aren’t there setbacks?); remember this is the Mets we’re talking about; and it was nice knowing you, Jacob.
I don’t really want to be that way. It’s a stress reaction in deGrom’s right scapula, not a tree falling in the forest directly on his head. Nevertheless, we make a sound akin to “AAUUGGHH!!” no matter how conditioned we are to learning Jake will miss his next start(s). This was going to be The Year of the Two Aces, the best pitcher in the world who’s always been ours and the other best pitcher in the world who somehow [3] is also ours. DeGrom and Scherzer/and to opposing batters murder! The good news is Max Scherzer’s hamstring tweak is said to be no real issue [4].
The bad news is WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY ABOUT MAX SCHERZER’S HAMSTRING?
Welcome to the Mets, Max. You probably didn’t even know you had hamstrings until you got here. We didn’t know the human anatomy comes equipped with all kinds of fragile doodads until we became Mets fans. Take the scapula, that bone that connects the humerous with the clavicle (now I hear the word of the Lord [5]). The scapula sounded familiar when Jacob’s was diagnosed. Matt Harvey had a scapula. I suppose we all have them, but it was Harvey’s scapula that, among other things, kept Matt from continuing to be Matt in 2017. He was out a couple of months and very shy of pitching remotely like the same Matt Harvey we’d known and idolized once he came back. Not that Matt Harvey by then more than loitered at that level, so let’s not lump all Met scapulas into one enormous pile of deGromified anxiety.
Have you ever heard of a scapula in any context other than a Mets pitcher having problems with one?
“Hey, Ted, how’s the scapula?”
“My scapula’s doin’ great, Harry — thanks for asking!”
Nope, never happens. No wonder the word “scapula” has such a low Q rating.
DeGrom’s popularity, on the other hand (the one he’ll have to use if he wishes to pick up a baseball in April), has always been stratospheric with the likes of us. We love Jacob deGrom. We wish Jacob deGrom could pitch every fifth day and then some. Jake and Max and three days of Jake because we can’t get enough Jake. Now, as far as we can tell, it will be Max, followed by that nice Chris Bassitt fellow — his first start to beam over Apple TV+, apparently — then Taijuan Walker, Carlos Carrasco, Tylor Megill/Trevor Williams/David Peterson or whoever doesn’t have a scapula reacting to stress. Trade talks [6] are in the air as well. So who knows?
We knew we had Jacob deGrom to throw our first pitch of 2022. Now we know less than we used to. Here’s to a speedy and comprehensive recovery for Jake. And for us.