My night last night:
* Watch Pedro admiringly. Grouse that Taveras' bunt should have been an error on Wright. Realize Dave O'Brien is right to note it would have been an extraordinary play, and should indeed be a hit. Grumble.
* Keep watching Pedro admiringly. Grouse that Everett's home run would have been a flyout at Shea. Realize Keith Hernandez is right to note it would have been gone there, too. Grumble some more.
* Watch Pedro ruefully after he gives up a hit — to the pitcher! — that I can't grumble about. Remember that this is the Mets, that we're nearly 7,000 games without a no-hitter, and I should just stop thinking about them. Grumble about that.
* Fall asleep. Last memory is of Bruntlett (whoever he is) on second and Pedro looking determined. Not too concerned about situation, but perhaps that's just the curtain of sleep getting hauled down.
* Wake up at the sound of alarm in a human voice, tired eyes focus on a baseball bouncing in the gap. Huh? Wha? Did Bruntlett score? No, it's a double for Ausmus, and the ballgame is over. Buh…wha..it was 2-1 Mets just a second ago. Whahappen?
Whatever happened, it's over now.
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