LOOK WHO’S NO. 6
OK, maybe that message isn’t inspiring enough to make a September scoreboard in Queens [1], but it’s true [2]: At this writing the Mets are a game ahead of the Braves for the third National League wild card, which is a fancy way of saying sixth in a league that now grants playoff spots to its top six teams. Moreover, they’re just a half-game behind the Diamondbacks for the second wild card (less fancy: fifth) and two games behind the Padres for the first wild card, AKA fourth.
Nine-game winning streaks will do a lot.
Saturday’s game against the Reds was one of those contests that might not be particularly interesting in the details but still says a fair amount about the mindset of team and fans. The Mets couldn’t scratch against Jakob Junis [3], who’d apparently gotten a deal on sliders at Costco; they hit ball after ball that looked mildly interesting off the bat but settled into an outfielder’s glove. They didn’t have a base runner until Mark Vientos [4] walked in the fourth and lacked a hit until Jose Iglesias [5] doubled in the fifth, all Junis gave up in five innings of work.
Meanwhile, Jose Quintana [6] was mixing up his pitches and hitting his spots in his bid for a 100th career win, and he was helped out by some remarkable defense, with Iglesias starting a 4-6-3 double play to erase a leadoff walk in the second and Francisco Lindor [7] initiating a twin killing in the third. The first of those looked like a magic trick: Iglesias smothered a Ty France [8] grounder moving to his left, pivoting on his knees to wind up in perfect throwing position, and then Lindor caught his feed low and to the outfield side of second, continuing his motion to throw to Pete Alonso [9] for the second out. The second was nearly as good, with Lindor snagging a Jonathan India [10] grounder to deep short on the backhand and somehow pivoting smoothly to hit Iglesias at second, with his double-play partner wasting not so much as a nanosecond on the pivot to nip India on the back end.
Both plays started with a combination of perfect instincts and muscle memory — Iglesias rolling just so to be able to hit Lindor at second, Lindor converting his momentum heading into the hole into the energy needed to throw — and were completed thanks to economy of motion against a pitilessly ticking clock. The Mets will miss Jeff McNeil [11]‘s versatility, and I’ll miss McNeil’s perpetual outrage at the slightest misfortune, but those two plays were reassurance that the Mets should be just fine up the middle.
With Junis excused further duty, the Mets wasted no time against Sam Moll [12]: Harrison Bader [13] broke a oil-well-deep slump with a solo homer, followed by a walk from Lindor (extending his on-base streak to 35, which is a new single-season Mets record, though his hitting streak was stopped at 16) and a Brandon Nimmo [14] HBP. Exit Moll and enter Carson Spiers [15], who I perhaps once knew is long-ago Met Bill Spiers [16]‘ nephew. Spiers the Younger was greeted rudely, with RBI singles by Alonso and a two-run double from J.D. Martinez [17].
That was the ballgame [18], pretty much: Adam Ottavino [19] got the last out of the seventh, Danny Young [20] turned in a spotless eighth and Edwin Diaz [21] wobbled a bit but found himself to secure the ninth. Being sixth-best never felt so good.