The Mets lost, which is once again what they do: Carlos Carrasco was awful again and at this point one has to conclude he’s hurt, done or both; the bullpen was superb but it didn’t matter, as the offense didn’t hit enough or hit when it would have been useful.
The dregs of the game brought a jolt when Pete Alonso got hit below the helmet by Jose Soriano — a breaking ball, but an 88 MPH breaking ball, as this is 2020s baseball. (Seriously, by 2033 changeups will be delivered at 103 MPH. Shit’s insane.) Alonso took offense and there was some milling around and close talking; after the game, Buck Showalter fumed and talked about not saying certain things in public, which kind of sounded like retaliation is forthcoming.
Now there’s a way to complicate the Mets’ potential pursuit of Shohei Ohtani, the baseball unicorn looking at a year or so of settling for mere legendary thoroughbred status.
Which got me thinking….
Ohtani, late 2033: “With free agency upon me I had decided — though for obvious reasons I couldn’t tell anyone — that I wanted to be a New York Met. The fandom is so intense and knowledgeable, and I wanted to be final piece of the puzzle in returning that club to its rightful spot atop the baseball hierarchy. But then some pitcher of theirs — was it Peterson? Megill? honestly I could never tell them apart — hit me in the finale of this super-meaningless series, and I just lost all respect for them. I mean, hit O’Hoppe or, I dunno, drop Phil Nevin during the lineup exchange, but you’re going to risk injuring the reason everyone came to the park because some million-dollar arm, ten-cent head kid couldn’t control his breaking stuff? Does that really make sense? Plus the game was played at like dawn and was on some ridiculous network called Peacock, so I was already in a bad mood. Anyway, they made their choices and I made mine. And, well, my choices meant the Texas Rangers became a dynasty, starting with the late-career renaissances of deGrom and Scherzer, and their choices … let’s just say it’s sad to see what that club’s become.”
Or I dunno, maybe Ohtani, late 2033: “With free agency upon me I had decided — though for obvious reasons I couldn’t tell anyone — that I wanted to be a Seattle Mariner. There’s so much great coffee there, and I just love the Space Needle as an example of brash, optimistic architecture. But then, in the finale of this super-meaningless series against the New York Mets, their pitcher Peterson dropped me with a fastball in my first AB. He was defending the Polar Bear, who’d been hit the night before by one of those million-dollar arm, ten-cent head guys on our roster. So as I was lying there looking up at the belly of Delta 5696 to Charleston I thought, ‘This is the kind of fighting spirit that’s been lacking in southern California,’ plus I realized I could not only get coffee anywhere but was also about to have enough money to straight-up purchase Colombia. So I decided to sign with the Mets. I taught Peterson and Megill a few things and, well, the last decade kind of speaks for itself, doesn’t it? No, winning the World Series doesn’t get old. Oh, and I did buy Colombia and am very proud to have made it into the high-tech mecca and showcase of primary education it is today. Want a coffee?”
Hey, like the man once said, you never know.
I’m pretty sure Peterson and Megill are the same person – they look and pitch similarly, and I’ve never seen them together in the same photo.
It’s sad when the absolutely only entertaining aspect of a Met season is reading your posts. Been there too many times.