Francisco Lindor [1] didn’t start Thursday afternoon’s game, much as he didn’t finish Wednesday night’s. He was said to be suffering from flulike symptoms. As someone who’s been enduring some of those myself, I can relate. I don’t have a Joey Wendle [2] standing by to fill in for me, however. Wendle was an All-Star as recently as 2021, Lindor not since 2019. Without knowing anything else about their respective skill sets, you’d have to say shortstop was in good hands despite Francisco’s absence.
We know anything else. We know Wendle is…not an optimal infielder for nine innings this week, maybe not for any innings. Wendle had a rough defensive series, including on Thursday when he didn’t get what appeared to be a fairly routine forceout accomplished. It wasn’t as egregious as the double play attempt he made when a throw home was in order the other night, but it didn’t help. Wendle’s also had a rough offensive year. That doesn’t leave a whole lot of room for much else. The Mets must have seen something in Wendle in the offseason, something that still sparkled from that golden summer of 2021 when Joey was an apple of some American League decisionmaker’s eye.
Carlos Mendoza saw him and looked for a way to get Lindor in the game as soon as possible, congestion, coughing and runny nose notwithstanding. The usual starter replaced the caddy in the sixth inning, and not a sneeze too soon. The Mets had two runners on and trailed by three. If Lindor could stand, he could pinch-hit. He did and he doubled. The Mets, dressed as Mets for a change, were back in a game that seemed out of their grasp early — a nice way of saying Adrian Houser [3] started — yet never got away. The Mets were down, 4-0 in the fifth when Brandon Nimmo [4] and Starling Marte [5] each singled in runs. The Cubs, who I’m as sick of as I am sick in general (how are four-game series considered short in the postseason when they are so endless in the regular season?), snuck one more onto the scoreboard. Enough with their catlike third baseman and their center fielder who touches bases with his batting helmet and their catchers who are immune to plate-blocking regulations. Enough with the pitcher who thinks New York is the place where Spider-Man lives [6].
Then along came Lindor, readied by the trainers and intestinal fortitude and whatever it took. Or maybe it was such a nice day he insisted on coming out to play. Whatever. Francisco, despite not having been chosen as an All-Star in this decade the way Joey’s been, was the upgrade needed in the sixth…and the eleventh.
In between, there was Nimmo tying the game by driving in Lindor rather than letting him come down with a chill from being left on base; there were familiar Met relievers — Jake Diekman [7], Reed Garrett [8], Edwin Diaz [9] (2 IP!) — holding the fort; there was an unfamiliar Met reliever — Danny Young [10] — doing his best; and there were a pair of 9-2 putouts, Marte to Omar Narváez [11], one that extinguished a rally in the tenth, the other that kept another, in the eleventh, from raging out of control. The Cubs had already taken a 6-5 lead, but if we’ve learned anything from how extras operate in the Rob Manfred Dystopia, it’s that one run is often the new no runs after nine.
Mendoza wanted this game enough to use Diaz for two frames for the first time since his return to health, to use Lindor when maybe Lindor could have used a day in bed, to use a pinch-runner, even. The Mets hadn’t pinch-run since the seventh game of the season, when Zack Short [12], now with the Red Sox, was our go-to pair of feet. Tyrone Taylor [13] running for J.D. Martinez [14] as the ghost in the tenth didn’t lead anywhere, but it certainly indicated an awareness that losing three out of four loomed as unacceptable…just as calling up top pitching prospect Christian Scott for Saturday to stretch out the rotation, give Luis Severino [15] an extra day, and maybe find a path away from Houser’s every-fifth-day carousel of runners says something positive about priorities.
It all sounds great when it all works out. In the bottom of the eleventh, Brett Baty [16] was abra-ca-dabra’d to second; Harrison Bader [17] was HBP’d; and Lindor, flulike symptoms and all, did some slashing down the left field line. Here came the tying run, here came the winning run, here came the ice water pouring onto the sick guy. We’ll assume that was a gesture of celebratory [18] affection rather than wishing Francisco into the CVS.