There are off days in the postseason, but there’s never a day off from thinking about the Mets when the Mets are in the postseason. The Mets and we needed the briefest of respites after clinching the National League Division Series — which I swear I knew was as good as won once it became clear Francisco Lindor would bat with the bases loaded in the sixth inning — on Wednesday night. This respite we’re in the midst of, however, needs to end soon, partly from concern than the Mets’ finely honed edge could slightly dull, mostly because any day without the Mets playing scintillating postseason baseball lies somewhere between boring and bizarre. We live in these series and these games now. We can’t be asked for more than a travel day’s worth of Mets idleness.
When the Mets do play their next postseason game, Game One of the 2024 National League Championship Series at a Southern California site still to be determined, on Sunday night October 13, it will be the hundredth postseason game in franchise history. We were stuck on 92 until we landed in Milwaukee on October 1, roughly ten years ago. Correction, it was only ten days ago, which can also be mathematically expressed as seven games and a lifetime ago.
The Mets are 57-42 in postseason competition heading into Game 100, with five of the wins and two of the losses coming this month. For those who put stock in omens, you are advised to look away from this factoid: the Mets have played four postseason games on October 13 (1973, 1999, 2006, 2015). They’ve lost all four. It is one of only two postseason dates — October 19 is the other — on which the Mets have played more than once and never won. If you’d like a better omen regarding lucky October 13, let’s remember a) the Mets are simply due for a win on that date; b) the contemporary Mets have been pretty good about demolishing imposing specters (see everybody we’ve beaten and where we’ve beaten them these past two weeks); and c) this is 2024, not any other Met year.
I love that Keith Hernandez was invited to throw a first pitch to John Franco before NLDS Game Three. I love that Daniel Murphy threw a first pitch to Bartolo Colon before Game Four. I’ll love whoever is lined up to do the honors when the NLCS alights in Flushing Wednesday, Thursday and, if necessary, Friday. I love invoking and evoking all previous Met postseason entrants, because they represent years that were mostly if not fully great, the best of our lives. And yet, the connection I usually feel to Met postseasons past while a Met postseason is in progress is fairly limited this time around. I’m not overcome by the “this is just like…” impulse because this postseason; this season; and this team, with every passing inning, feel absolutely singular to this moment. My head is almost always immersed in Met history. Right now it’s in swimming in the Met present. I like it here.
My head has been buzzing since the latest celebration. The contact high through the television is powerful. But now that my head is clearing a bit, I have a request for whoever makes such decisions — we’ve gotta come up with a handy phrase for what winning the National League Division Series means. The League Championship Series still nets a league champion a pennant, just like coming in first did in the days of Russ Hodges hollering on behalf of Bobby Thomson. The World Series gets you the world championship, an easily understood and coveted prize. The Mets are 5-0 in LDSes, each of them absolutely worthy of the ruckus the Mets raised in their wake. My head might still be buzzing from the home run Todd Pratt hit 25 years before Lindor’s grand slam. On all those occasions — 10/9/1999; 10/8/2000; 10/7/2006; 10/15/2015; 10/9/2024 — somebody should have been able to say, “The Mets have won the” something or other that isn’t as cumbersome or generic as National League Division Series. Maybe the LDS winner should be handed a Unity Cup, to symbolize the solution to division. Maybe Singer Corporation should sponsor the presentation of a sewing machine, because now the winner has a chance to stitch together its own flag in the next round. How about a pen, to signify you’re roughly halfway to a pennant? It’s too bad George Washington didn’t give this matter more thought, or he might have dreamed up a word for it.
An audio celebration of where the Mets are these days is going on at National League Town. Listen in here.
Well, in the pre-logo days the two division winners went to the LCS, so maybe the LDS winners should just be called division winners – there are still two of them every year, you just have to play a series to determine who they are.
Three divisions don’t divide into two so neatly.
“Why do we call it The Division Series when sometimes it is played by teams in different divisions?”
“Nobody knows.”
“And will there be reasonably priced tickets for the most ardent fans who waited years for a moment such as this?”
[silence]
“You were asking about the weather.”
It does make me wonder what they’d do if the league ever expands.
LDS is just a silly name. Maybe if you’re not the guy who took too much LDS then a marine biologist takes you out for a pepperoni pizza and a Michelob. And what did they do with the uneaten pizza?
You’re right – there is something about this year that feels, in a phrase at which English teachers balk, very unique. Truly. For me anyway, I kept seeing other years during 2015 and 2022…. But not this time. We are in uncharted territory. Feels very good, too.
If we go very broad and follow the Paul Kinsey “Marilyn/Jackie” construct, every successful Met year is either, at heart (or under its Maidenform), a 1969 or a 1986. 2024 clearly descends from the former, but since finding its true self in June has been as indomitable as the latter. Not that the former didn’t have that going for it by October.
Someone mentioned that every team that has beaten the Brewers in a post season series going back to 1981 has gone on to the World Series. A good omen but it’s only history.
The factoid should only count NLDS and WCS opponents. The 1981 date is fun since it raises the DS anomaly of that season’s playoffs.
A guy named ‘Kike’ PURPOSELY throwing out the F-bomb in an interview on live TV just after the game, on Yom Kipper?
Why does that not surprise me?
I, too, was offended at Kee-Kay Hernandez’ intentional violation of propriety and FCC laws. What a low-class tool move. Very Utleyesque of him. Well, since he likes that word, F him, F the Dodgers, and F Chase Utley! Hopefully he’ll double the two Ks in his nickname for a ‘golden sombrero’ in every game! And of course Fox chose to leave it unedited, even though they could have muted it out with the delay of a few seconds. Well, they’ve been sued before for controversial opinions they’ve aired…
On a better note about words, Greg, since they’re the currency you, Jason, and I all deal in as authors, we could simply call the Mets currently MLB Quarterfinals winners or NL Semifinals winners. I know they’re not original, baseball-specific terms, and they’re borrowed from tennis and, to a lesser extent, other sports, but at least they’re present for the taking.
“Welcome to Citi Field for the MLB Quarters. A reminder that Citi Field is a cashless venue and does not accept quarters or any traditional currency as payments for goods and services.”
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The NLDS win over the Phillies feels odd in the 2024 context because it didn’t take a signature 2024 Mets bounce-back or comeback. It’s like the Mets metamorphisized into simply a better team than the Phillies. The bounce-back version of the Mets earned my trust. Now I wonder what to make of this dominant version of the advancing Mets.
So hitting a grand slam after being completely shut down most of the night doesn’t count as a comeback? Wow – it’s really interesting how fans can see the same game but interpret what they see so differently.
You’re right, the grand slam was a comeback. Considering it as a ‘signature’ comeback, though, the Lindor Braves and Alonso Brewers game-winners raised the bar. Up 2-1 in the series, coming in the 6th inning with the Phillies bullpen teetering and the Mets shutting down the Phillies except for the 1 unearned run, it felt more like the better team took the lead mid-game than snatching victory from the jaws of the defeat. Of course, the Mets didn’t score off that teetering Phillies bullpen after Lindor’s game-winner.