All the Fun Dudes

Has there ever been a Mets team that has had this much fun winning? Of course there’s been. From the first Mets team to post a winning record, in 1969, to the most recent Mets team prior to the current edition that did so, in 2022, they all had themselves a blast in the process of exceeding .500 and we vicariously vibed to the fun that seeped out of our screens and speakers as we skitched along for the joyride. Even the Mets teams we remember for being good enough only to let us down at the very end had to win more than they lost, indicating a cumulative net-surplus of fun was had by those doing plenty of if not necessarily quite enough winning. There’s a reason Durham Bulls righthander Ebby Calvin “Nuke” LaLaloosh was able to differentiate a given ballgame’s potential results so definitively:

“I love winning, man. I fucking love winning, you hear what I’m saying? Like it’s better than losing.”

The 2024 Mets are the latest testament to young Nuke’s hard-earned wisdom. After stumbling to a start of 0-5 and faceplanting to 22-33, the Mets at this moment are 82-68. You know your 162-game math. Whatever else happens in 2024, the Mets have secured a winning record. We’re mostly interested in whatever else happens. Nevertheless, it sure has been fun getting here.

The day the Mets won their 82nd game began with the unveiling of one purple seat amid acres of forest green to commemorate…Grimace? Yes, Grimace. Up on Carbonation Ridge, Row 6, Seat 12 is the Grimace Seat. Why 6/12? Because Grimace threw out a first pitch on June 12, which was when the Mets began a winning streak. I’m sure you’ll never forget where you were on that night, either.

Eight years ago, when Yoenis Cespedes became the first Met to reach the distant precincts of Promenade with a home run, an online petition drive launched to paint the seat where it landed neon green to match Yo’s trademark compression sleeve. It was a splendid idea conceived by splendid Mets fan Melanie Spector that unfortunately didn’t go remotely as far as the slugger’s drive. Likewise, some combination of orange and blue could have been used to single out the splashdown spots of a few other highly significant four-baggers in the very same facility. The first home run hit by a Met at Citi Field — by a fella named David Wright; the Tears of Joy home run off the bat of Wilmer Flores; the 53rd and rookie record-breaking home run from Pete Alonso: they all landed in easily identifiable seats. They could all be marked for posterity.

Fun seat?

Yet the only one that gets that treatment is one that’s basically a corporate tie-in in a part of the ballpark that’s blatantly a corporate tie-in. Perhaps you can sense my muted enthusiasm for the whole Grimace thing. Y’know what, though? Others seem to enjoy it, it stitched itself seamlessly into the storyline of a team on the rise, and other than the Hamburglar, Grimace harms no one. Have yourself a seat, whatever you are.

The next announcement from Flushing came from Francisco Lindor. His MRI is clean. That was a cause for genuine enthusiasm. The muting came in the next beat when he told reporters he still needed a few days of not playing. Magnetic Resonance Imaging only tells you if something’s wrong. It doesn’t cure it. It’s not surprising Lindor’s back requires a little more rest. But maybe they could have slid the man through a more magical tube?

Instead, the Mets had to rely on their Lindorless lineup to make magic, a tough go in the face of Jake Irvin, the pitcher the Mets didn’t hit on the Fourth of July in Washington and seemed no closer to solving Monday night in New York. Irvin Renewal is a very effective National policy, not so great for our local concerns. Fortunately, we had Sean Manaea, a buffer against offense since roughly the time it was decided Grimace is a wobbly Met talisman. Sean gave up a run in the fourth and in no other inning among the seven he pitched. With Irvin shutting the Mets down through seven, Manaea’s performance rated as mostly commendable, a little regrettable. You can’t give up one run when you’re facing Jake Irvin!

We’re totally reasonable in a playoff race.

The Mets’ best chance to score while trapped in the wilderness came in the fourth when they loaded the bases for Mark Vientos with two out. Vientos is the latest Met in one of those three-for-ever slumps. Yet you believe in Mark because Mark has made us believers. Here, in the fourth, he makes essential contact on what appears to be a swinging bunt. Lucky contact as well. More than a squib. Less than a roller. It bounces only so far down the third base line before preparing to die a hero. It’s gonna be an infield hit, provided a pouncing Irving doesn’t lay a hand on it, grab it, throw it, and beat Vientos to first. But with all the skill and time it would take to do that, there’s no way a major league baserunner isn’t going to reach the bag ahead of the throw.

Mark Simon of Sports Info Solutions offered this tidbit on Twitter/X after Vientos, in fact, was beaten by Irvin’s throw: “Mark Vientos was 4.83 seconds home to first on that slow roller that he was thrown out on — per Statcast. That’s slow. Wilmer Flores level slow. Bunch of backup catchers average about that going home to first.”

Vientos goes back to his position at third to start the top of the fifth. The Mets remain in a 1-0 hole until the eighth. Irvin remains on the mound for the Nats, just a touch too long, it seems, as Tyrone Taylor doubles to lead off and moves up to third on a groundout. Irvin exits. Derek Law replaces Irvin. Starling Marte replaces nine-hole hitter Eddy Palavers at the plate. Alvarez is starting at second because Jose Iglesias had to start at short because Mires don’t cure bad backs. Marte had been hurting, but he’s in there now. Alas, he doesn’t hurt Law when he grounds out and can’t bring home Taylor.

The lineup turns over, which for nearly four uninterrupted months meant Lindor would be up next and practically guaranteed something heroic. Instead, Iglesias is in the leadoff position. If you can’t have Lindor, you’ll take Iglesias. Unlike with Grimace, my enthusiasm for the “OMG” thing is never on mute. May it blare on a loop down the Canyon of Heroes not too many weeks from now. Getting ahead of myself here, so let’s get back to the bottom of the eighth. Taylor is on third. Two are out. Iglesias stings a ball off Law, literally. Law has to chase it behind the mound. He would have to make like Irving in order to lay a hand on it, grab it, throw, it and beat Iglesias to first. He doesn’t do any of that. Besides, Statcast says Jose’s home-to-first average speed is 4.16 seconds, best on the club, 18th-best in the majors. Taylor scores. Prepare an OMG seat if you like.

Imagine this is a September of yore when the rosters are overflowing with extra players, and extra innings can overflow into infinity. We don’t have those Septembers anymore. Teams get one additional position player on September 1 and you’re no doubt familiar with the runner who stands on second before anybody bats. The Mets and Nats do go the tenth, with all its guardrails against chaos sanitizing the game for our protection. Reed Garrett shuts down Washington, just as Jose Butto did in the eighth and Edwin Diaz did in the ninth. The Mets didn’t score in the ninth, either. Mark Vientos’s slump was still very much in effect, and he flied out to ensure at least one inning beyond regulation.

All this meant that our pokey third baseman was slated to reappear as the unearned runner to begin the bottom of the tenth. Except Carlos Mendoza has Statcast reports as well as eyes. Vientos is no Iglesias with the feet, so the manager inserts Harrison Bader as pinch-ghost runner. All the sense in the world there, except, let’s retrace our steps. Eddy Alvarez has been removed from the game, and Iglesias moved from short to second. Luisangel Acuña came in to play shortstop. Starling Marte stayed in as the right fielder after pinch-hitting, replacing Jesse Winker on defense. Now Vientos is out, and Bader is in, and did we mention Lindor’s status? If the Mets don’t score in the bottom of the tenth, the Mets have three infielders for four positions. Their only bench player left is catcher Luis Torrens, who has two games at second and two games at third in his past. Should something go terribly awry, then what? Maybe one of the pitchers started his life as a shortstop à la Jacob deGrom. Think Mendoza planned that far ahead?

Probably, but mostly he wanted to win in the tenth, which is a good thought. The Mets were due for something on the level of The Eduardo Escobar Game, I figured. Remember The Eduardo Escobar Game? It was September, two years ago, when the 2022 Mets had been (until September) having at least as much as fun as the 2024 Mets have been having since Grimace and OMG came to the fore. That game against the Marlins, on September 28, went to the tenth in a 4-4 tie. The four Met runs in regulation were all courtesy of Escobar: a two-run homer in the seventh; a two-run single in the eighth. In the tenth, same dopey rules then as now, saw Lindor materialize as the so-called free runner. Mark Canha lined out. Jeff McNeil was intentionally walked. Escobar singled to left. Lindor scored. Mets won, 5-4. Fun ensued.

That game crossed my mind as an excellent precedent for September 16, 2024, but also because of how fleeting some fun can be. It was the biggest game in our lives until the next one. The next one was in Atlanta. We’d be lacking for big games soon enough. But, man, was it and that whole year fun while the winning went on. Winning is fun, we were reminded by a former minor league phenom.

Throwing a surfeit of caution to the wind, Mendoza slotted Bader on second and instructed his minions to bring him home. Taylor couldn’t. He was intentionally passed. Francisco Alvarez couldn’t, but he made the best of his attempt, sending a fly ball so deep to right that, after it was caught, Bader could advance easily to third. So might have Vientos, but that’s hindsight. Marte was up again with a runner on third. This time, he’s this September’s Escobar, singling to left. Bader scores. Vientos would have scored. Daniel Vogelbach — who Buck Showalter once pinch-ran for with pitcher Mychal Givens — would have scored. We never did get to see Torrens play second, which Mendoza said would have been his eleventh-inning maneuver. I don’t mind sacrificing a curiosity in exchange for victory. The Mets won, 2-1, and, judging by the twin Gatorade baths dousing Iglesias and Marte, had oodles of fun doing it, just as we did experiencing it as fans.

Fun result?

Then the Dodgers’ thrashing of the Braves went final, and as I tried to remember the last time I was made this happy by an L.A. win (Game Six of the 1981 World Series, I believe), the Mets and their officially clinched winning record retook sole possession of the third Wild Card with twelve games to go and hopefully lots more fun to come.