There was a wonderful moment back in Atlanta, one that’s nearly been forgotten in all the joyful, exhausting tumult of what’s followed.
Steve Gelbs was interviewing Francisco Lindor, only Gelbs was drenched in alcohol and having trouble getting past the fact that his eyes were burning.
“You’re suffering!” said an even more drenched Lindor. “You’re not embracing! Let it happen — make it part of you.”
Lindor was mostly teasing Gelbs — mostly, but not completely. He wasn’t wearing goggles either. But his expression was serene.
What he’d told Gelbs, I found myself thinking later, was pretty good advice — and not just for baseball.
Sunday’s game was another barn burner, just the latest Mets game to shove its way into the ranks of the classics. Luis Severino looked sharp from the beginning, mowing down the Phillies, and the Mets grabbed a lead behind home runs from Mark Vientos and Pete Alonso, both of whom hit homers that just cleared the fence in right-center: Vientos off a Cristopher Sanchez changeup left in the middle of the plate, Alonso off a high curve from Jose Ruiz.
3-0 Mets heading into the bottom of the sixth, and the Phillies fans were restless, booing their own. For shame, Philadelphia. In a playoff game? After the season they gave you? Seriously, I thought the role played by the fans in the redemption arcs of Alec Bohm and Trea Turner had put this Philadelphia narrative to bed, but there they were giving it a new lease on life.
I wasn’t booing the Phillies, but I also wasn’t sanguine about how things might turn out: Sure, Severino looked better than he had in weeks. But there were 12 outs to get and this is Citizens Bank Park, where any lead feels like the decimal should be moved one place to the left.
Severino got the first two of those 12 outs but then looked like he started overthrowing, maybe because he knew his day was ending. In the course of eight pitches it all came unraveled: single to Turner, Bryce Harper home run that came down somewhere in central Jersey, sweeper annihilated by Nick Castellanos. Just like that it was 3-3,
Punch them back, I urged the Mets, having seen my share of Citizens Bank donnybrooks over the years. And they did: Brandon Nimmo homered off Orion Kerkering to give the Mets back the lead, albeit one now reduced to a skinny run.
My new superstition? When relievers come in with a lead, I matter-of-factly ask, “Where are we going to find [X] outs?” Then I greet the new reliever and solemnly suggest he not fuck it up.
Jose Butto, last seen fucking it up in Milwaukee, hit J.T. Realmuto (not ideal) to start the seventh, got a pair of outs, then lost Knockwurst Clemens on an unplayable infield single, with Knockwurst’s disgusting father watching from a luxury box instead of being frog-marched off to the Hague. That brought the Phillies’ lineup clicking back over to its deadly top three, as it seemed to do about every five minutes in this game, and brought in Edwin Diaz, who got Kyle Schwarber to swing over a backfoot slider to avert further harm.
The thing that struck me at this juncture? It was that both teams looked exhausted, less standing up on the dugout rail than clinging to it. Games like this one will do that to you — as well as to the hundreds of thousands of fans living and dying with every pitch they can’t affect.
I urged the Mets to score, oh, 10 or 11 more runs, but they eschewed that advice and sent Diaz back out for the eighth. (“Where are we going to find six outs? Don’t fuck it up, Edwin.”)
There’s nothing easier or cheaper than a second guess, so I’ll say right here that I like the way Carlos Mendoza has handled the bullpen over this insane last week. He’s been aggressive and he’s been innovative, not blindly plugging guys into roles they played in July or August. And most importantly, no one has reported for duty looking like they were caught unawares. It made sense for Diaz to face Schwarber instead of Butto, and it made sense for Diaz to stay in to face Turner and Harper.
Unfortunately, there are at least two other factors at work right now. One is that the bullpen has been sorely worked, particularly Diaz. The other is that regardless of workload, Diaz’s entire season has been a nightly psychodrama: You never know if the fastball is going to be high 90s or mid 90s, if the slider is going to be low and sharp or high and flabby, and you never know how much conviction Diaz is going to bring to his pitches.
Diaz vs. Schwarber has historically been a good matchup for Diaz, but as he navigated it I’d winced at too many sliders sitting above the knees. There were more of them as Diaz went to work in the eighth, fanning Turner but then walking Harper (also historically a good matchup for Diaz) on four pitches. Castellanos singled on a high fastball, and against Bryson Stott (and his oddly soothing sing-a-long walkup music) all of Diaz’s pitches were up in that flashing red danger zone; his sixth pitch was a slider that sat middle and didn’t slide, and Stott spanked it down the right-field line for a triple and a one-run Phillies lead. A batter later, with Tylor Megill now pitching, Vientos tried to throw home before he secured the ball and Philadelphia was up by two.
Not good, but these Mets have shown me over and over again of late that nothing is impossible and improbable is just another way of saying “hasn’t happened yet.” Harrison Bader flied out to start the inning against Matt Strahm and up came Lindor.
Baseball is a game of failure (perhaps you’ve heard), with a hitter contending against not only the best pitchers in the world but also ample opportunities for misfortune through no fault of his own. But Lindor’s play since returning from back issues has been simply remarkable, silencing the critics who, for whatever reason, have spent his entire Mets tenure eager to find anything to pounce on. Baseball doesn’t make anything a certainty or even more likely than not, but right now if something needs to be done Lindor will do everything in his power to maximize the chances that it gets done.
He singled off Strahm and up came Vientos. Vientos is in an interesting place right now: He’s made tremendous strides as a player during a transformative season. But he’s still a young player, there’s a difference between sleepy summer matinees and October cauldrons, and it’s asking a lot of the baseball gods to expect a young player who’s already delivered to deliver again.
Strahm, meanwhile, is one of those guys who makes his money by throwing gas high and wrinkles low (and why not, it’s the way you’d pitch God Himself if you were handed that unenviable assignment), and at 1-2 he had Vientos set up for the slider below the strike zone. Vientos ignored two of them and Strahm went back to the fastball. The one he threw was at the top of the zone, if not somewhere around Vientos’s chin, and verging to the outside. Vientos somehow didn’t just hit it out but pulled it out to left-center — ah, bat speed and being strong as an ox — and the ballgame was tied once again.
OMG, you might say.
It would be nice to put a bow on this recap right here, but duty compels me to march on, into the vale of shadow: Megill got the first two outs in the bottom of the ninth but then walked Turner and Harper. He got the first two strikes against Castellanos, yanked a slider into the dirt and then hung one. Castellanos spanked it into left, where I presume someone eventually picked it up after Nimmo headed briskly for the visitors’ dugout.
If the Mets had been allowed to keep going, I wouldn’t have been shocked to see them score one run — or two, or however many would have been needed. But nope, the rules dictated that was it — the Phillies had won, 7-6, sending Castellanos to a joyful Howaboutthat? with his son in the front row (c’mon it was sweet) and sending the series to Citi Field tied at one.
Here’s one of my favorite baseball parlor games: Down a run or two late, would you rather your team come back only to lose via some even more cruel twist of the screw, or just see them come up short now?
On Sunday the Mets opted for “even more cruel,” but I don’t regret that extra turn of the screw at all. They lost, but they went down spitting and hissing, scratching and clawing, on the short end of a riveting game that delivered everything except the conclusion we wanted.
We’re all along for what’s become a crazy ride. So far it’s brought unbelievable helium wheees at apexes along the track, as well as stomach-imperiling lurches after unsafe drops. But we’re strapped in and we’re not going anywhere until we’re told that’s it, that’s the end, everybody off. Until that moment comes, opt for embracing, not suffering. Make it part of you.
Obviously a split isn’t the worst thing in the world, but this one stings, because they could/should have closed them out.
I agree losing 3-0 and 4-3 leads and the 6-6 tie in the back half of the game stings. But the Phillies comeback win was a useful reminder that this Phillies team is a step up from the Brewers, tough and tempered, talented all over and hungry. They’re strong and on their own mission after losing the WS and NLCS the last 2 years.
I think the Phillies are the best team in baseball this year. They should win, except the Mets have magic like the 2015 Royals. If the Phillies make it past the Mets, I expect them to go all the way.
The two have taken the measure of each other, and now the NLDS is on for real.
The Phillies were the best team *during the regular season*. The playoffs are like a different season, and all bets are off — anything is possible.
Right, that’s why they play the games. The Phillies comeback was notice that the ‘rust versus rest’ advantages and disadvantages are behind them, and they’ve fully joined the Mets in the playoffs.
Spot on assessment of where things stand.
Me? I’m doing my part: having faith!
Ya gotta believe! LGM!
It’s the Milwaukee series all over again. Game 1 – go into the later innings trailing but competitive, win the game. Game 2, get into the later innings with a narrow lead, lose it.
Sure, it would be great to go to Citi Field up 2-0 but 1-1 ain’t bad. Why do I feel good about the team right now? Multiple contributors. For so much of the year we won games when 1 guy – Lindor more than anyone but others took turns – carried us on his back for that game. For the last two games – 6 runs in each is pretty promising – multiple bats have had their say. This Mets team is batting closer to the June Mets did than they have at any point since.
Though I don’t feel good about the bullpen, also similar to June.
The more Philly hates us the sweeter our success will be. True story.
“…Citizens Bank Park, where any lead feels like the decimal should be moved one place to the left.”
Priceless, Jason, just priceless.
We have a much better record than Philly since JUN01, so no need to worry that we are not good enough.
Diaz sucks and blows, but we sure as he’ll need him tomorrow and Wednesday.
Diaz’s heavy workload has been about too many pitches thrown more than being too often used, and his high number of pitches thrown are due to Diaz’s own control struggles more than Mendoza over-using him. If 2 days off during the post-season aren’t enough for Diaz to recover, that’s a big problem. To solve that problem, I want either Senga or Peterson to take on the fireman, back-up closer role that would have been Nunez’s role. I’d prefer that be Senga–he has the stuff for it–, but I don’t know that Senga is able to relieve. Between piggybacking Senga in NLDS game 1 and closing out WCS game 3, Peterson is showing he can relieve effectively. But I also want Peterson to start. Either way, the bullpen needs another reliable high-leverage reliever, and they’re the top candidates.
I have mixed feelings about the game 2 loss. But I would have had mixed feelings about a 2-0 series lead too. Because the win formula for the 2024 Mets has been bouncing back and punching hard. Writ small, they’re better at coming back late in a game than they are at holding onto an early lead. Writ large, they streaked their way back into the wildcard race this year and then tread water instead of pulling away. Then the Mets streaked again when they fell behind in the WC race. Then tread water again. Then won at the end when they needed to, after losing. The Mets’ biggest wins, like game 2 against the Braves, have followed gutpunch losses, like game 1 against the Braves. They fall behind, they come back.
If the Mets had won NLDS game 2 to take a commanding 2-0 series lead? This season, they’ve responded to winning streaks by treading water. Since they lost NLDS game 2, I expect the Mets to stay true to their 2024 win formula and bounce back. And win.
I have no issues with Diaz pitching around Harper and can accept the result of Game 2. Yes, it would have been nice to pull this one out, and yes Stott’s triple had me screaming in anguish, but Vientos’s game-tying homer was a huge psychological lift for them. I am happy that we have last-licks the next few games, and would implore all Mets fans to stay positive through the ups and downs of the NLDS that may very well go down to the last at bats in Game 5. This is a team that has earned our support no matter what from here on out. The Phils have a potent line-up and a bushel of gamers too, and are not going to go quietly into the night. Hoping for a large, boisterous, partisan crowd tomorrow and Wednesday. As Bob Murphy used to say, “fasten your seatbelts….”
O-Ren Ishii: “You didn’t think it was gonna be that easy, did you?”
The Bride (Beatrix Kiddo): “You know, for a second there, yeah, I kinda did.”
–Kill Bill Vol. 1
Tomorrow is the time for Manaea to stand up and proclaim to the world, “Yes, I AM an ace.”
Absolutely. We need a lights out performance. For a franchise who’s strongest asset historically has been starting pitching this is time for an historical start.
It’s legacy time, for sure.
Bringing up Manaea reminds me of my worry that crystallized in his last start: maybe the season plus playoff load of innings is finally catching up to those starters who have significantly jumped in innings pitched from last year. I wonder if that concern is part of the surprise move and urgency to spin up Senga. (Of course, swapping out Brazoban for even a rusty restricted Senga is a no-brainer regardless.)
I predict Ottavino, who’s rested and veteran, will have a pivotal moment in game 3, and he’ll come up big.
i’m gonna find a silver lining in this hiccup in the hoped-for plowing through the phillies.
TWO stadiums full of mets fans able to take part in this lest it all end after 1 game in flushing – and leave the mets waiting too long before the next round.
yes, now it’s a series, as was milwaukee.
LGM
ljcmets, gotta hand it to you, as all these comparisons, I gotta say, are right on the button.
Except for these 2:
Tug was lights out consistent the last couple of months of 1973, while Diaz can just as soon strike out the side as give up 3 home runs in a row.
And Bud Harrelson was the nicest, most mild mannered guy in the world, though many only know him as the guy who cursed out Pete Rose to start the famous brawl, or as the maniac who was called out at home plate in the 1973 WS on a bad call by Augue Donatelli.
Jason, I read a story over the weekend ((I wish I could find it and give credit) in which Lindor talked about his success as a result of learning to trust his teammates will pick him up if necessary, and how that helps him to embrace every moment ( up to and including his painful back). It has turned him into the leader he indisputably is.
After Pete’s homer ( no need to say which one, LOL!) Howie Rose was quoted as saying the 1969 Mets who have passed away were “cooking something up.” It made me think about who some of these 2024 Mets remind me of on that long ago team (very broad parallels -it was so long ago):
Journeyman infielder with an artistic streak on the ride of his life: Ed Charles = Jose Iglesias
Young rookies coming into their own: Wayne Garrett/Gary Gentry = Francisco Alvarez/Mark Vientos
Underappreciated, steady leader and homegrown veteran: Ed Kranepool=Brandon Nimmo
Lovable, lumbering hero: Ron Swoboda=Pete Alonso (this is not a great analogy but there is something about the Polar Bear that reminds me of Rocky and the ‘69 Mets -nor any other Mets team prior to 2019 – did not have a prodigious power hitter like Pete).
Can hit for average and power : Cleon Jones=Starling Marte
Erratic reliever with great stuff, can be very streaky: Tug McGraw=Edwin Diaz
Steals bases, hits homers, can go get ‘em in the outfield: Tommie Agee=Tyrone Taylor
Great infielder w/ fiery temper: Buddy Harrelson=Jeff McNeil
Great lefthander coming into his own: Jerry Koosman=David Peterson
Undisputed star and leader having a career year: Tom Seaver= (of course )Francisco Lindor.
Well, if we’re doing parallel comparisons with previous Met postseason teams (and their opponents), here’s a sobering one:
Former Met pitcher discarded by the Mets only to emerge as the best pitcher in the league, whose presence in the enemy clubhouse hovers over the entire series.
I guess I don’t actually have to spell that one out. The good news is, the Mets already won a game that Wheeler started, which they never managed to do against Scott.
And also Nolan Ryan in that very same series.
Just think how lucky we were that Tom Seaver was hurt and so not an active member of the ’86 Red Sox roster.
Every time I am reminded of Seaver in that visitor’s dugout, it’s like I had forgotten that, if that makes any sense.
I would have hated to lose to him, but I would have hated more to beat him.
Every time Seaver came back to Shea in another uniform (I’ll even include #300, because Yankee Stadium became Shea that day, overrun with Mets fans and even including Lindsey Nelson), he would receive a prolonged, roaring ovation – even in that same 1986 World Series during the traditional Game One introductions. He always tapped his heart, raised his cap and looked like he was about to be overcome with emotion and unlike us, he didn’t have the luxury of screaming and chanting and giving into that. And then he would produce the kind of performance that made him the greatest Met of all – just, in a word, Terrific. You bet I was glad he wasn’t on the active roster in 1986. No offense to Mookie Wilson, but Tom would probably have struck him out, and as Mets fans, as heartbroken as we might have been, we would have had to applaud him as he left the mound. He was one of a kind, and we knew it.
Just to put a bow on this conversation, I want to wish all of our Old Friends who still might pitch against us this postseason (I believe Seth Lugo is still out there somewhere) a Mike Scott-like performance against everyone else, and a Calvin Schiraldi-esque performance against us.
[…] Harper coming up, hoo boy. Harper, to be followed by Castellanos. This movie didn’t turn out well on Sunday in Philly. But this was a new release in a different park. Our park. Sean struck out Harper and induced from […]