They Got This

The New York Mets broke it to me gently early Saturday evening. They appreciate my help, but they got this. They have a plan, they know what they’re doing, they’re going to do it, I can just relax. I nodded my understanding. I’m not going to relax, but I think I get what they’re telling me.

They do got this. They know something the rest of us don’t. We are free to clutch our talismans and hail our Grimaces and hashtag our OMGs and, now that it’s a thing, pick our pumpkins. We also have their blessing to fuss and fret and stress and sweat over each individual pitch and swing. We can think that we shouldn’t be thinking this or that, lest we affect the action far from where we sit or stand. We can go about contorting ourselves into lucky shapes or avoid leaning in the wrong direction. We’re not going to make a difference, but if we want to believe we have that power, more power to us.

It’s the Mets, however, who have the power, even when they limit themselves to eight singles and five walks. It’s the Mets who have the gleam in their eyes, the assurance in their manner, the knowledge that this is their October. We are invited to come along. Nothing we do or say is going to stop them.

That last part is a lesson already learned by the Atlanta Braves and Milwaukee Brewers, and now the Philadelphia Phillies are boning up on this vibe becoming fact. On Saturday, in Game One of the National League Division Series at Citizens Bank Park, the Phillies threw Zack Wheeler at the Mets. The Mets didn’t duck, didn’t scatter, didn’t warn each other “GET OUT OF THE WAY, THERE’S A ZACK WHEELER BEING THROWN AT US!” They stood in calmly against Zack Wheeler (and his ally Andy Fletcher) and withstood as best they could whatever Zack Wheeler threw (and Andy Fletcher called) at them.

And then, like 2024 Mets Magic, Zack Wheeler was gone. This is not to be confused with the offseason after 2019 sorcery that made Wheeler disappear from New York and land a hundred miles south. This was 111 pitches of all Wheeler had in his arsenal, and, boy, did he fire everything he had. There was one Met hit in those seven innings when Zack strode the mound. There were a few bases on balls that didn’t lead anywhere, except to an elevated pitch count. There was nothing on the top line of the CBP scoreboard except for zeroes.

As Saturday stayed Phillies 1 Mets 0 for an uncomfortably long period, my instinct was to recall the two other postseason series in Mets history when the Mets lost, 1-0, in Game One — the 1986 NLCS and 1986 World Series — and comfort myself and anybody with whom I’d be communicating later that those series had dramatic and happy endings. Granted, those were best-of-sevens that are by nature more forgiving of stumbles out of the gate, and, however formidable and/or shady Mike Scott and Bruce Hurst might have been in their day, they’re retired. Wheeler, leading 1-0, was very much in the now.

Until he wasn’t. That’s where the elevated pitch count was no small factor. On the very same date eight years earlier, the Mets were shut for eight innings by Madison Bumgarner, who had expended 106 pitches in keeping the National League Wild Card Game deadlocked at 0-0. Even when it was tied, it felt like we were behind. In the top of the ninth, we learned to spell Conor Gillaspie, and in the bottom of the inning, Bruce Bochy forgot the phone number for the Citi Field visitors’ bullpen. Hell, he let Bumgarner bat for himself once the Giants went up, 3-0, the score it remained once MadBum threw thirteen more pitches the Mets didn’t hit. The San Francisco southpaw had given up four hits and two walks in the course of allowing no runs, but they seemed incidental. Maybe he was the last of what is now an extinct breed. One-game series weren’t very forgiving. You knew if the Mets weren’t getting to Bumgarner, the Mets were done. You also knew the Mets weren’t getting to Bumgarner or getting him off the mound.

You know how some games you’re losing by only one yet it feels like a lot more? This, in Philadelphia, wasn’t one of those games. Wheeler’s sensational, but Bumgarner’s breed has gone the way of the four-pitch intentional walk. You knew Wheeler would make his exit eventually, and you had a hunch the Mets offense might show up once he did. As was the case the the last time the Mets saw Flushing, the sooner, the better, you figured. Zack wasn’t out there to start the eighth. Salvation came into sight once the gate to the Phillie bullpen swung open. They may have some capable relievers out there, but none of them is Zack Wheeler.

But before we get to them, let’s hear it for a couple of capable relievers of our own. Let’s hear it for our starter, too. At first when you heard the name Kodai Senga, as in “Kodai Senga will be starting Game One on Saturday after last pitching in July, his only appearance of 2024,” what you most likely heard yourself say was “HUH?” You’re charging with setting the tone for the series that will determine the Mets’ fate for the rest of the fall a guy who’s been hurt one way or another basically all of this year? Then again, the Mets had been breaking it to you gently that they got this, and that included deciding who’d get the ball where and when, so OK, it’s Senga. Super! He was great last year, he swore he was ready, and the brass believed him.

The next thing you heard was Citizens Bank Park erupting following the third pitch Senga threw. Phillie leadoff savant Kyle Schwarber blasted it 425 feet from home plate. In a band box like The Bank — or, to be fair, any modern stadium — that’s a deposit of a run. Schwarber’s unique talent for leading off games with home runs is a problem for opposing pitchers, but it also means nobody is on base when he hits them. How’s that for a defensive strategy working to a tee?

It turned out Senga was very much ready to face other Phillie hitters. His first innings are usually a little dicey; this one he escaped post-Schwarber. The second was Kodai as usual, getting the Phils in order. And that was it for the ghost forker we hadn’t seen in what felt like an eternity. He wasn’t ghosting us, just adhering to a tight pitch count. Unless Senga feels a twitch, he’ll be part of the Mets’ postseason plans as long as we have them to make. Talk about a timely acquisition.

Still, that left the Mets in need of another pitcher to begin the third, which if you’re a connoisseur of Met bullpens, you were conditioned to apply palm to forehead over. Except with Senga suddenly back, the Mets have no ordinary bullpen. For Game One, it featured David Peterson, last seen closing out Game Three against the Brewers, and four days before that, shutting out the Brewers for seven very necessary innings. Starting pitcher dealing like an ace. Recast fireman nailing down a series clincher. Reborn bulk guy in a newly hatched scheme so sensible it just might work. You might say David Peterson was about to complete the most versatile week in Met pitching history.

Complete it he did: three innings, no runs. That’s eleven innings of shutout ball from Sunday to Saturday, compiled in three distinct roles. Any week in which Tom Seaver or Dwight Gooden pitched twice might have been more spectacular, but I can’t think of any Met pitcher who’s been more effective in such a critical multifaceted manner inside a seven-day span. In this game, lefty Peterson ventured into El Sid territory and did it a touch longer than Fernandez’s legendary two-and-a-third versus the Red Sox in Game Seven.

Peterson was succeeded by a more traditional bullpen choice in the sixth, Reed Garrett. The presumed love child of Rick Reed and Wayne Garrett also maintained the tradition of less-noticed Met postseason heroism, facing six Phillies and blanking every one of them. Through seven, the three Met pitchers had combined to give up nothing since Schwarber did what he was bound to do. What a shame to potentially waste such a fine pitching performance.

Which is what they were about to be saying in the Phillies dugout. Wheeler’s 111th pitch was his last, and in came Jeff Hoffman, the latest in a line of distinguished relievers the Mets have had to surmount if they wanted to get anywhere. Remember Raisel Iglesias? Devin Williams? Hoffman’s not the Phillies’ primary closer, but he did make the All-Star team this summer, the same squad that included Wheeler. Yet not all well-regarded Philadelphia pitchers are created equal. On Saturday, there was Cy Young candidate Wheeler for seven, then there was a collective sigh of relief from the lineup that no longer had to attempt to hit him. Compared to Zack, Jeff Hoffman had to look like a day down the shore.

Hi, Jeff. This batter is Francisco Alvarez. He’s so happy to not have to look at Wheeler anymore that he’s gonna single to left to lead off. You can say bye to Alvy after he reaches first. Harrison Bader is gonna pinch-run for him.

Jeff, this batter is Francisco Lindor. You’ve probably heard of him. The Mets fans who infiltrated The Bank have been chanting M-V-P at him for a reason. You can make him swing and miss at the first two pitches you throw him, but you can’t strike him out. I mean you probably can — you were an All-Star — but not this plate appearance. Our M-V-P is going to foul off your third pitch and then lay off the next four, all out of the zone. Lindor shall take first. Bader shall head to second.

Hey, Jeff, this batter is Mark Vientos. He’s on an upward trajectory this season and postseason. Backtracks in his development a little for a game or two but then discerns what he’s doing wrong and returns to progression. He’s about to progress a liner to left that will score Bader to tie the game. Pity, Zack Wheeler won’t get a win out of his 111 pitches of shutout ball. Don’t feel too bad for him. Zack used to hang out with this guy Jake who told him what it’s like when that sort of thing happens. Anyway, it’s 1-1, Lindor is on third and Vientos took second on the throw that didn’t get Lindor.

That’s three batters, Jeff. Your manager says you can go.

Matt Strahm was next. Another All-Star. The Phillies are loaded with them. They have a couple of stars on their jersey’s wordmark. Good for them on all that. Lindor, East Coast National League MVP, wasn’t an All-Star this year. Nor was Brandon Nimmo, despite having a helluva first half. Seems few outside the Mets sphere fully appreciate Brandon, no matter what he does. Maybe more will now that Nimmo has singled home Lindor to give the Mets a 2-1 lead, pushing Vientos to third.

I’m sorry, I forgot to make a formal introduction. Matt the All-Star, that was Brandon the everyman. Yeah, over on first. That’s him.

Pete Alonso requires no introduction. He’s been all over the highlights since Thursday night. He doesn’t need a most memorable home run here. A fly ball will do nicely. It does. Pete’s sacrifice to center scores Vientos, and it’s 3-1.

Not that this hasn’t been fun, but it’s about to get real fun here, because Jose Iglesias is up next. They won’t play his music (it’s every Mets fan’s music) in Philadelphia, but Jose’s got a new remix coming out. He previewed it against Strahm. “From OMG to Oh and Two to Oh, Just Settle In, Matt.” It starts with a called strike, then a swinging strike, and then the beats per minute kick in. Iglesias fouls off a slider. Then he fouls off a fastball. Then he fouls off a cutter. Then another fastball, another slider, and two more fastballs. When the Grammy nominations for Best Time Up by a Met In a Late Inning Late in the Season or in the Postseason are announced, don’t be surprised to find this one competing with Tyrone Taylor’s dozen-pitch walk from Monday versus the Braves. The Grammy voters love epic PAs and ABs.

So do Mets fans when they end with a single up the middle, as Iglesias’s did. Ten pitches. Nine of them with Strahm ahead in the count. No balls thrown. Real balls shown. Iglesias’s hit didn’t drive anybody in. It merely placed Nimmo on second and Jose on first. But its effect was that of a dagger through the heart of the Phillies’ desire to keep the game from getting out of hand.

Strahm was done after his three-batter minimum; Rob Thomson’s cover charges were creating a lengthy tab. Next to settle in for a trio or more of Met hitters was fireballing Orion Kerkering, announced into the game once Carlos Mendoza opted to pinch-hit J.D. Martinez for Jesse Winker. Kerkering is 23. Martinez is 37. Youth versus experience. Shades of Bob Welch taking on Reggie Jackson. It’s the kind of showdown meant to be savored under the lights of the postseason…except Martinez the veteran isn’t in the mood to linger. He strokes rookie Kerkering’s third pitch into center to score Nimmo and send Iglesias to third. Then Marte, another player who’s Been Around, delivers the fly ball that brings home Brandon.

The Mets, who trailed, 1-0, now led, 5-1. A nailbiter had morphed into not exactly a laugher, but a game that could breathe, and you with it. As long as we’re referencing postseasons past (Octobers tend to get into your head and remain there forever), I found myself recalling Game Two of the 1973 NLCS. That one went 1-0 for eight tense innings, until the Mets exploded for four runs in the top of the ninth. Of course they had the “1” in 1-0 that day, and the pitcher in command, Jon Matlack, wasn’t coming out, no way, no how. He stayed in to finish a 5-0 two-hitter for the ages. Give Yogi Berra credit for occasionally handling his pitching perfectly that month.

This one still needed a little shepherding to the final outs. In the bottom of the eighth, Mendoza called on Phil Maton, and Maton rather than the imposter wearing No. 88 in Milwaukee materialized. Phil struck out Schwarber, struck out Trea Turner, allowed a double to Bryce Harper (into each life a little Bryce must fall), but then grounded out Alec Bohm. The Mets’ ninth saw Bader the erstwhile pinch-runner do some hitting, some stealing and some coming home when Nimmo took the concept of insurance seriously. Like a good neighbor, Brandon is there. The Mets were now up, 6-1, more than enough to keep Mendy from waking Edwin Diaz from his well-deserved nap. True, Diaz did have to stir a bit once Ryne Stanek made the ninth a little longer than it had to be, but Ryne finished the job at 6-2. The Mets beat the Phillies, took the series opener and clarified for all us loyalists who love them no end but doubt them practically constantly that they indeed got this.

If they say so.

Still, I’m gonna be careful to not sit the wrong way or think the wrong thing. It’s the postseason. You can’t be too careful. What was it Yogi advised? “You don’t got this ’til you got this.” But, between you and me and the doubts that probably won’t dissipate until there’s no longer reason to harbor a single one of them in 2024, they got this.