3 out of 4
2 out of 3
2 out of 3
3 out of 4
2 out of 3
2 out of 3
2 out of 3
My muscle memory still works. I still remember, even from the lofty heights of first place, how to be disgusted with my team as if it hasn’t been living in first place practically every night of this season. It didn’t matter to me at the close of business Sunday that my team was 23 games over .500 or 2½ games ahead of its closest competitor (a game better than it had been a week earlier) or as secure as could be in putting a deposit down on a playoff position well before postseason berths are officially issued.
My mostly wonderful team lost to the Cubs, 3-2, in one of those games that was there for the taking for nine innings but got given away or left on the table in most of them. Bleh! Bleah! Bleech! Whichever sound you choose, I was making it between 5:30 and 6:00. It was a game that shouldn’t have been lost, yet it was lost. There were approximately a hundred and twenty-three (rough estimate) flyouts into the wind. There was a dumb decision to attempt to score from second on a single into short left field made by the same runner who cleverly evaded a tag that led to a run hours earlier. There was an error of commission by the third baseman who must have invested in pork belly futures Saturday because he’d saved his club’s bacon twice. There was relief that wasn’t on the heels of so much relief that was. And there was the other team figuring out how to accomplish the feat I enjoy least in a matchup against my team: beating them.
The manager of my team is always reminding me, through the media, that the other team, whoever it happens to be on a given day, is capable of winning a baseball game. That message has been absorbed by his players who repeat its essence after infrequent instances of non-wins on their part. The worst element of this alibi is it is largely true. Nobody should ever beat the first-place Mets, but occasionally somebody does.
It happens because not even the 2022 Mets can win them all.
2 out of 4
2 out of 3
2 out of 3
1 out of 3
3 out of 4
2 out of 3
1 out of 3
3 out of 3
3 out of 3
I needed a half-hour to decompress from Cubs 3 Mets 2; to rationalize that bad days happen to good teams and vice-versa; to remember that although my worldview is often susceptible to the last thing it saw — Lindor getting thrown out at home; Escobar fumbling a double play grounder; Smith’s arsenal being turned back on him in the form of sharp grounders finding holes — overwhelming the larger or more significant sample sizes of the things that preceded it. This is not just a day-to-day instinct. These Mets have four All-Star selectees among them. Three were Mets in recent years. When recent years did not go swimmingly, I was willing to toss each of these recently certified stellar Mets overboard.
Not that I have that authority, nor do I have the attention span to construct hypothetical trades (not even for Juan Soto). But these past two winters, I swear I wasn’t attached with epoxy to anybody who couldn’t help the mopey Mets of 2020 and 2021 turn the corner of Roosevelt Avenue and Seaver Way in 2022. If I could have been convinced a transformation could have been achieved without the contributions of Messrs. Alonso, McNeil and Diaz, let’s just say it wouldn’t have taken a whole lot of convincing. And I wasn’t holding onto budding star starter David Peterson (5 IP, 0 ER Sunday) with both hands, either.
Glad nobody listened to what I was thinking. Glad somebody thought to hire a manager who knows what he’s doing, even when we’re left to wonder (Saturday night’s one-bullet bullpen roulette) what the hell he’s doing. Buck Showalter comes along after his tactics work, as they somehow did when he stuck with Yoan Lopez, or after they don’t, explains himself, moves on, and I nod. He tells us maybe not what we want to hear, but what we need to hear. I imagine he addresses his charges similarly. A bigger wonder than “why didn’t you have anybody warming up to replace the 27th man who allowed the tying run and put additional runners on base?” is why we were left to sift through deviants and amateurs as managers when this guy was out there just waiting for another dugout to fill.
I don’t have faith in Buck Showalter’s Mets. I have confidence. It’s a world of difference.
2 out of 4
1 out of 3
2 out of 3
2 out of 3
3 out of 4
0 out of 2
2 out of 3
0 out of 2
Crummy game Sunday. Aesthetically displeasing weekend. Where was that beautiful Wrigley Field to which we only get one exposure per season? Covered in clouds. It rained, it murked, it blew in. Whatever became of “a real Wrigley Field game,” one of those 12-10 jobs we’re conditioned to crave at the sight of Waveland Avenue? We got the other kind: 2-1; 4-3; 3-2. Yawn. I was hoping to depart the non-statistical first half on a high, not only sweeping the Cubs, but reveling in Wrigley for something beyond its cup-snake charmers. The Friendly Confines ain’t what they used to be. Then again, neither are the Cubs. I guess the latter is for the better.
We left behind the ivy taking three of four. We do a lot of that wherever we go, wherever we play. That’s how confidence is cultivated. The Mets won this series. They won the series before it, against a much more relevant rival in Atlanta. The Mets have played 29 series. They’ve lost five of them. They’ve tied three of them. They’ve won all the others. Rarely have they swept series, but they’ve methodically done all the taking they’ve needed to. Being methodical adds up. Boy, does it add up. The Mets’ record of 58-35 is their second-best ever after 93 games. It’s probably their second-best at the All-Star break, too, but since “the first half” is a malleable concept annually (the 1986 Mets played 84 games before the break; the 1999 Mets played 88 games; the 1980 Mets played 78 games), I’m not bothering to look it up.
2 out of 3
2 out of 3
2 out of 4
2 out of 3
3 out of 4
By six o’clock, I wasn’t any longer bothering to stress the Sunday loss to the Cubs. Susceptibility to the last thing I saw notwithstanding, it was easy enough to brush off. Rest up, fellas, I’d tell the players if they hadn’t already jetted to their vacation destinations. Tune up, I’d tell the front office (bullpen roulette can be chancy and another bat would be swell). Overall, everybody in orange and blue, keep doing what you’re doing in this year of years that thus far pales historically only in comparison to 1986. You’ve got my confidence. And my faith, in case you need it.
Well said.
or: WS
as in: World Series
So: WFS
IMHO, it would have better to send Mazeika up in the 9th with instructions to not swing at anything, if he ever wanted another major league at bat. That way, you would have given Nimmo a chance to hit with 2 outs. Instead, J.D. Davis hit into one of the least surprising double plays of all time.
I don’t really know if you can be a Major League manager and act on thoughts like that, both about the situation and the players involved.
But I like to believe that if I saw it, Buck saw it, too.
Small silver lining: Drew Smith really didn’t pitch badly. All the hits were off of pretty decent pitches.
No, final crucial hit off Smith was a smash to center. CF with average arm has good shot at runner at plate but Nimmo has no arm AND likes to play deep. He does best he can out there and chases things down but really hurts in some key spots (and note throw that got Lindor at plate easily).
Smith, like Lugo, teases with one good outing inevitably followed by bad done. Has been that way for over 2 months now. Holderman by far the better bet right now (and Ottavino)….
And we MUST stop waiting for Davis and Smith to turn it around. Smith should be back in AAA and they should give Vientos a 7-day audition before trade deadline.
Hey DAK442,
Kingman was one of my all-time favorites. In 1984, when with the A’s, he made an appearance at a Batting Range near Rockaway Beach, and I took a picture with him. And he could not have been nicer.
I agree. After taking 3 of 4 for yet another series win and squeaking out 2 wins on Saturday that easily could have been — maybe should have been — losses, the frustration from Sunday’s loss didn’t linger for long.
And, at your July 8 post, I commented, “Besides the big 3 against the Mets, the Braves will be playing 7 against the Nationals until the all-star break. So just holding onto the current division lead or even losing just 1 game off of it into the all-star break would be a win.” The Mets division lead was 2.5 games on July 8 and it’s 2.5 games now. That’s a win.
In the long run, the bats and bullpen losing the game and wasting Peterson’s good work can be beneficial by reminding the front office that the Mets have clear weaknesses to fix for the division race and, looking ahead, the play-offs. The Braves are mashing lesser teams while the Mets are barely beating lesser teams mainly due to the slumping offense that’s giving little cushion to a bullpen that isn’t lockdown. Improvements need to be made for more room for error.
I’m eager for deGrom’s return after the break. But he won’t be coming back as a workhorse. I assume he’ll be treated with kid gloves for the rest of the season so the load on the bullpen won’t be helped by his return. Maybe extra days between starts, too. And with the extra careful handling, deGrom may break down again anyway considering he hasn’t dialed down the 100-plus velocity in his rehab starts.
So here’s an interesting thing about deGrom’s return. He’s not coming alone. Tylor Megill and Joey Lucchesi (remember him?) are both due to come off the IL in a couple of weeks as well, assuming all goes as planned. That gives us eight starting major league pitchers on the active roster, nine if you count Trevor Williams. That will give deGrom plenty of cushion, even in the middle of a pennant race. The ones who should be concerned are the relievers currently residing on the bubble. It’s going to be very interesting watching how Showalter, Hefner and company handle the pitching moving forward. I think it qualifies as a good problem to have.
That said, I share Eric’s concern re deGrom blistering the radar guns. I hope the trainers know what they’re doing.
And Greg, I couldn’t agree with you more. The fact is, despite the Mets’ excellent first half, they never put together one of those gaudy win streaks that impresses the casual fan. Some people see this as a lack of consistency, which is ironic given that this is perhaps the most consistently sound Met team I have seen since at least the late ’90’s. One can quibble with some of Showalter’s specific moves, but that’s true of any manager. (If I had a dollar for every time I heard some yoyo on the ‘FAN claim that his grandma could manage better than Davey Johnson…) The bottom line is, Showalter has the team playing excellent fundamental baseball, and they don’t let a loss or two get them down. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked forward to a second half season with more anticipation and excitement. LGM!
This article on Megill https://www.newsday.com/sports/baseball/mets/mets-tylor-megill-f31u1jt7 (if you don’t have a Newsday subscription, the article is referenced here https://www.audacy.com/wfan/sports/mets/velocity-spike-could-be-reason-tylor-megill-hurt-shoulder) quotes Megill blaming his rise in velocity for his similar shoulder injury to deGrom’s and planning to dial back his velocity.
Presumably, Megill’s diagnosis and decision were made with the Mets trainers, which would imply that if deGrom continues to throw 100-plus, that’s deGrom’s choice, not the trainers’.
A takeaway from the Newsday article is that the shoulder injury from raised velocity happens with a starter-level number of pitches thrown in a game. Which implies a reliever can similarly raise his velocity without the same risk for that injury. Relevant to deGrom’s rehab, it also implies that the raised velocity hasn’t hurt deGrom at this point of his rehab because his starts have only reached about a 40 pitch count. But once deGrom increases his pitch count enough to be activated, he’ll cross the threshold for re-injury risk if he keeps throwing 100-plus.
I hope deGrom learns from Scherzer. Scherzer doesn’t throw 100-plus. His fastball sits 93-95 and touches 97 when he reaches back for extra.
How perfectly representative of the season that Jeff McNeil was hit by a pitch at the All Star Game. (Although I’m sure McNeil wouldn’t appreciate the irony.)
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