Eight pitches.
They were the first sign that Monday afternoon’s Game 2 might go better than Sunday’s steamrolling. Happily, they weren’t the last.
Leading off against Ryan Brasier, the first man in a parade of Dodger relievers, Francisco Lindor worked a 2-1 count, then fouled off four sliders and fastballs. Brasier, possibly a little frustrated to see the debut hitter chomping away at his small allotment of pitches, opted for a cutter and didn’t throw a good one — Lindor walloped it into the right-field bullpen, which I’ll always think of as Daniel Murphy Land, the place where a ball thrown by Clayton Kershaw once returned to earth with Murph’s first name literally burned into it by the contact with his bat.
Mets 1, Dodgers 0, and the sigh of relief was audible all over Mets Land.
That sigh got a little deeper and easier once Sean Manaea reported for duty and looked sharp, erasing Shohei Ohtani and Mookie Betts, then retiring Freddie Freeman on a first-pitch fly ball after a walk to Teoscar Hernandez.
Before we return to our usual battle with Mets-fan anxieties, consider this series from the Dodgers POV: In April they lost the first two games against us at home before administering a 10-0 corrective; they then curb-stomped the Mets at Citi Field at the end of May, with the finale featuring Jorge Lopez writing his own pink slip with a glove tossed into the stands.
They must be thinking, “Who are these guys?”
All that came before OMG, before Grimace, before the Zesty Mets, before all the other delightful oddities of a cherished summer. To shift from narrative to W-L statistics, it was before the Mets rose from the dead to the top of the MLB ranks the rest of the way. And it was before Manaea saw Chris Sale at work on the mound and thought, “maybe I should try that.”
When Manaea was on, which he was for most of his Monday tenure, he had a terrifying lineup looking frankly befuddled, with Ohtani unbalanced by his cross-fire mix and Betts unable to square anything up. It was odd — odd with a side of delightful if you’re a Mets fan — to see the best hitter on the planet and a fellow perennial MVP candidate groping for answers.
With Emily stuck on a Zoom call for work (she was far more horrified than you are, so cut her some slack), I watched all this from the unfamiliar confines of our downstairs bedroom, but with every cherished talisman either on my body or close to it. 7 Line jersey with the Mookie shirt beneath? So clad. When a Met was in scoring position I called upon the powers of Derpy Flag, a somewhat wan little felt Mets pennant handed to me by Mr. Met himself. And of course I had my usual exhortations aimed at players on the other side of the continent: look for your pitch, don’t help him, eight guys behind you, hit it to anybody, and of course plenty of hang with ’em and c’mon babe and you got this.
All that worked very nicely in the top of the second, with Landon Knack (whom I knew only from a not particularly distinguished tenure on my fantasy-baseball roster) replacing Brasier. After a first-pitch single from Starling Marte, Jesse Winker wrung out a walk. Jose Iglesias popped up, but Tyrone Taylor smacked a double down the left-field line for a 2-0 Mets lead. An overeager Francisco Alvarez popped up his first pitch, leaving a precious gimme run on the table, and Dave Roberts ordered Knack to put Lindor on first and face Mark Vientos.
Vientos then put together one of the best ABs of his burgeoning young career, hunting fastballs while fouling off sliders in the zone and ignoring ones below it. Knack’s ninth pitch was not only a fastball but a middle-middle bullseye, and Vientos whacked it over the fence for a grand slam and a 6-0 Met lead.
(I’ll pause here for a bit of wisdom from Ryne Stanek in the Athletic, offering a pitcher’s perspective on long ABs: “You only have so many tricks. It makes the at-bat substantially harder when you’ve exposed everything you’ve got.”)
Six-zip in the second and then slowing pull away is an excellent recipe for scoreboard success and calm fans, but would that it were so simple.
The Mets kept putting together good ABs — Pete Alonso had a 10-pitch one before being called out on what might or might not have been a strike, and even Alvarez looked more disciplined in his last go-round — but they couldn’t get the big hit against the next two acts taking the stage at Relieverpalooza: former Met Anthony Banda (“Banda MACHO!” I hollered, as I did when he was pitching for us with considerably less success) and Brent Honeywell Jr., whose career is a study in perseverance. (He’s also the cousin of former Met Mike Marshall — the dogma-defying pitching guru, not the former Met first baseman and hulking ex-Dodger. Though genealogy suggests Honeywell is likely a more distant cousin of that Mike Marshall too — not to mention, quite possibly, you and me and Greg and Charlemagne.)
While the Mets slumbered in key spots, the Dodgers started to do what a lineup like theirs will do. (I had moved upstairs post-Zoom call and will accept that I changed the luck and should be castigated, since I Ought to Know Better.) Max Muncy hit a solo shot off Manaea in the fifth and Betts and Teoscar Hernandez opened the sixth with walks. At which point the Mets defense sprung an ill-timed leak: Iglesias started a double play before he had properly secured a Freeman grounder, one that came with an added degree of difficulty after kicking off the back of the mound. Instead of two outs Iglesias had none, the bases were loaded with nobody out, and oh boy.
Exit Manaea, enter the affectless Phil Maton. Maton coaxed an infield pop-up from Will Smith and then got another grounder, this one from Tommy Edman in the hole between first and second — a difficult play to begin with, made harder by Freeman screening Alonso. The ball went under Alonso’s glove and it was 6-3.
Maton walked Muncy and had to face Kiké Hernandez, who’s infamous for being death to baseballs in the playoffs. Maton got a hard grounder to Vientos, who bobbled it for about the 8,000th heart stoppage of the inning before regaining his grip and starting a double play, which the Dodgers challenged for reasons best known to them.
With the Mets still unable to tack on, Stanek took over for Maton in the seventh but looked like he ran out of gas in the eighth, yielding a two-out single to Edman and walking Muncy. Which meant it was time, yet again, for us all to be strapped into the Edwin Diaz Rollercoaster, and with Kiké Hernandez at the plate as the tying run, no less. The same Kiké Hernandez who’d hit into that big double play.
Oh boy.
Diaz’s fourth pitch was a slider that sat middle … and which Kiké got under for a harmless fly ball.
The Mets finally scratched for a badly needed run in the ninth off Edgardo Henriquez, who looks like he’ll be wipeout reliever but is still finding his way a bit. And so it would be Diaz against Andy Pages to lead off the ninth, followed by Ohtani and his attendant Furies.
Diaz’s first three pitches to Pages were distressingly high; the third was hit just hard enough to float over the infield for a leadoff single. Diaz then walked Ohtani, with his pitches elevated and looking a little flabby.
Oh boy yet again, but unlike against the Phillies, Betts wasn’t the tying run. (Thank you and bless you, Starling Marte.) And Diaz found his fastball and punched Betts out. Then he threw all fastballs to Teoscar Hernandez, erasing him on six pitches. That brought up Freeman, who looks more formidable playing on one leg than most guys look on two. Diaz worked the count to 2-2 on fastballs, then uncorked a beauty of a back-foot slider, which Freeman swung over to put the game in our column.
Can 6-0 feel like not enough? Yes. Can 7-3 feel too close? Also yes. Did the Mets win the game and even up the series? Three times yes. Three times yes, a big exhale, and back we come to New York and whatever awaits. Gather your talismans, find your center … and buckle up.
The Mets can take a punch, and throw a few of their own. They’ve got heart.
It’s funny. I went into the game pretty relaxed. We’d just gotten spanked in a game where we didn’t hit, didn’t pitch, didn’t field and, despite hardly having any men on, couldn’t even run the bases competently. Down 1-0 in a seven-game series after a flustercluck of a game? That was nothin’ compared with the Pit of Despair known as May that we’d managed to emerge from despite being declared Mostly Dead. After a near-death experience like that one game wasn’t going to bother them.
Then the game came and I can best sum up my emotional state with weather. It started OK, partly cloudy and got a little sunnier 8 pitches in. Vientos hits one on the nose but at someone and Nimmo walks and I’m thinking we have a recipe for screwing up whatever Dave Roberts Master Plan was – lot of pitches, use an extra reliever in the 1st when he didn’t want to – and Alonso grounds into a DP on the first pitch he sees. Partly cloudy again. It stayed that way in the 2nd after, with two on, nobody out, Iglesias hunts bad pitches for an out. The gloom might have deepened until Taylor pops one, back to mostly cloudy again. It stayed that way through another out and an IBB. The clouds rolled in when Vientos hit a medium depth fly ball with two outs leaving the bases loaded. Except he didn’t. Funny thing – when watching a game alone I never say anything. This time when they put Lindor on I surprised myself by saying, out loud, “Make them pay Mark.”
Bright sunshine which went to mostly sunny until the 6th. Instead of Manaea finishing a fairly easy 6 giving up just the 1 run Iglesias mostly with an Alonso assist plated two. Tying run at the plate. Deep gloom, Maton still pitching? Oh – he got him out? From there it was generally mostly cloudy. For some reason this felt like a game we were going to lose. We’re leaving too many men on, the Dodgers lineup is too good and 4 innings of relief is too much. The clouds parted a bit when Diaz got the last out of the 8th and Alonso trucked home in the 9th but they rolled in again when the first two got aboard.
My personal self-reflection summary (raining here which accounts for this way-too-long comment) the Dodgers have some good pitchers. They’re gonna strand runners. The Dodgers don’t hit lefties nearly as well as righties and we have a lot of left-handed starters. In the short-term Diaz may be able to get away with all fastballs all the time (thought the Freeman SO pitch was nice) but I don’t care how good it is – if that’s all he throws eventually LA batters will find it.
Espn actually came up with a great line for once, “the Mets’ Weeble wobble ways continued. As in, you can push ’em over, but they pop right back up.”
One of my biggest wishes right now is that Iglesias would rediscover his plate discipline. It’s so out of character for him. He’s gotten like my dog going after rabbits in the field – a lot of chasing with nothing to show for it.
Perfect line Jason, “Maton got a hard grounder to Vientos, who bobbled it for about the 8,000th heart stoppage of the inning before regaining his grip and starting a double play,” When that ball briefly popped into view I swear I stepped into some alternate universe for an instant – like this can’t happen for real on Planet Earth.
There was a good quote from a Dodger (not gonna look for who from) on Manaea. After talking about the changed arm angle he was pretty succinct, “He’s not the same pitcher.”
We’re in a good place. I’m emotionally sunny. LGM.
this exciting game started with me driving through rural new york state and losing my signal in a dead spot…only to tume in to AM radio to hear lindor’s opening statement. signal
retrieved but now blacked out,! by the time i got a good signal it was 6-0, just like that. missed a few innings while assisting with my cat’s procedure. we were still 6-0 for the ride home, then 6-3…in constant struggle to hold a signal, while retreating to am to a minute or so in the future (?) with the net signal seriously delayed (had me thinking of The Sting)
kept the yelling to a minimum as i was on road and with sedated cat. got home in time to stress over diaz…then rejoice in this well-earned script flip. a day of rest and back on it tomorrow.
citi will rock, hard. can’t wait to watch..
LGM!!
Laying six on them after they did the same to us the day before, was priceless. I was hoping for the extra 3 so we could beat them 9-0, but hey — 7-3 works!
The oddity of cheering on the 2024 Mets is that I wasn’t overly bothered by the game 1 blow-out loss since the 2024 Mets’ win formula is to bounce back punching hard, often after a gut punch loss. The game 1 loss wasn’t even that. Losing game 1 simply put the Mets back on track with their 2024 win formula after going off track to handily beat the Phillies in the NLDS. (At least NLDS game 4 was a comeback win.)
The Dodgers are deserving of their MLB top record and they beat a strong team in their NLDS, but they’re not scarier than the Phillies were. As well as bouncing back, the 2024 Mets play up, and in the playoffs, they can only play up.
The converse oddity of cheering on the 2024 Mets is that they’re better at catching up, often dramatically, than holding onto early leads. So I was nervous for all of game 2 after Vientos’s grand slam. But they held on to guarantee at least 3 more 2024 games at Citi Field.
Game 2, despite the win, displayed my 2 top concerns at the moment: One, the leaky bullpen, which Mendoza adroitly managed in the game. (Note: The way the Mets have hit reputedly elite opposing bullpens in the playoffs shows the leaky pen isn’t an especial team weakness comparatively speaking.) And two, that the stalwart starting pitchers who’ve far exceeded their pre-season expectations and last-season innings in order to carry the Mets this far are showing the signs of wearing out under their regular season plus playoff loads. In this case, Manaea went a beautiful 5 and then lost it in the 6th. Do the starters have enough left in the tank to maintain their pitching at the same high level for 7 more wins versus the MLB elite? Pitching against top teams laden with dangerous hitters like the Dodgers in the post-season wears out pitchers sooner too.
Word is that the choice to start Senga in NLCS game 1 despite not strictly needing to, in contrast to NLDS game 1, was in part due to that very concern and the consequent recommendation to carve out an extra day of rest for the starters.
Nimmo’s injury and Iglesias’s slightly worse play of late bear watching. I’m more concerned about Nimmo’s injury than an Iglesias regression. McNeil may have come back just in time.
Re Nimmo’s injury – I’ve had plantar fasciitis, and it’s excruciating. Props to Nimms for playing through the pain, even making a dandy over-the-shoulder catch. Guy’s got grit.
it may be time to prep peterson and mcgill for starts.
i’d let senga rest and get ready for ’25, and i’d give lucchesi a call to be ready next week, just n case.
They won’t replace the starters as long as they’re healthy enough to start, but 4-5 inning starts before they gas out as opposed to 6-7 inning starts is foreseeable.
Nimmo is injury-prone, in the vein of old friend TDA.
It’s always something with this guy, whether it is plantar, or fainting, or whatever, though he was able to keep it to a minimum this season.
Watching him run back to make that catch proved to me that Joe Boyd can still play out there.
Seriously – Brandon, get some padded insoles and get your butt out on the field…
Love the bits about talismans–I’ve worn my 1969 Seaver jersey every game beginning with the double header with the Braves, and it seems to be working.
Speaking of ’69 and charms–the snake in the Dodgers dugout took me back to a certain black cat long, long ago.
Let’s Go Mets!
I’m a tad concerned about the Mookie shirt, tho. We don’t want the current Mookie hitting any trickling ground balls under any first baseman’s glove at a critical juncture of a game. Just saying.