My lil sis and I just got back from a solid 6-1 Mets win. RA wins his 15th with a complete-game performance and Jose loses David Wright's ball in the Flushing sun to set up the go-ahead run. There will be more on this fantastic day tomorrow morning, but for now, go and enjoy the Summertime.
I wish I had more time to write about this lovely win and the much needed split, but unfortunately I don't. Instead, enjoy KC & the Sunshine Band and look forward to some wins by the Bay.
The leader of this squad, David Wright, would not let the losing streak continue. His 1st inning home run after Andres Torres beat out a grounder helped set the tone for not only a much needed win, but a much-needed offensive explosion after slumping the past couple games. Wright blasted a 3-run shot later as well, carrying the Mets to a 9-5 win this afternoon at our nation's capital.
RA Dickey was not at his 1-hitter best, but he gave us 7 1/3 solid innings of 3-run ball to hold off the tough Nationals' offense. The bullpen was still kinda shaky, but they did not allow the Nats to get within one huge blast of tying the game. We need to see them be perfect in close ones, but for today, their performance will clearly suffice since they locked down RA's 13th W. I can only imagine the scene tomorrow at Citi had the bullpen blown that one.
This was a massively important win, and props to the Mets for responding. Time to play solid, crisp baseball against the Dodgers. Tomorrow night, Johan will take on Aaron Harang at 7:10PM before people run as fast as they can after the last pitch to avoid hearing Daughtry.
It's easy to poke fun at a sentence like that, and many people have poked fun at that type of sentimentality. "If I'm going to die one day, why waste my time on the Mets? And why waste my time on something like baseball? Why bother with sports in general? Doesn't it just add unnecessary stress?" The last one I have thought about, especially standing in the upper deck while the Mets have loaded the bases, still an out away from having the rally be for naught. Had Daniel Murphy not gotten the tying hit, had David Wright not gotten the winning one, had the entire thing been for naught the way it was a night later against the Cubs, I still would have sat there, looking out at the baseball diamond thinking it's the most beautiful image in the world, knowing that win or lose, I had fun.
'Cause this is what we signed up for. This is why we love this team, and this is why we love this game. How much sweeter is 2012 after having gone through 2006 to 2010? (How much sweeter was the no-hitter having gone through 50 years of 1-hitters?) Every time the Mets have won a ring, they came from outta nowhere. From 2006-2009, they were the "team to beat"... and people beat them. "You Gotta Believe" is the identity of this franchise. We want them to be consistent and they appear to be on their way, from changing "You Gotta Believe" into "Believe it," but nobody ever picked the Mets to win the World Series, or even go to one, at the beginning of the seasons they have won it or have gone there. And the year people probably did pick them to at least make it to the World Series, they had to pull off one of the greatest comebacks in the history of sports to win the trophy. That appears to be the narrative of this franchise. And I love watching it day in and day out.
I believe in the spirituality of baseball. I do not follow a religion (I identify myself culturally as Jewish), though I find God in my own particular ways, one being through the sanctuaries that house the diamonds. Baseball unfolds as life does in front of us, and we bend the happenings to fit into a particular narrative we believe we see unfolding, or we want to see unfolding. That is how the Curse of the Bambino was written. And while we have our role in the scripture, other outside forces, whether just luck or happenstance, add to the mystic nature of the game: Babe Ruth gets traded, Bucky Dent cracks a homer, Bill Buckner let's it get away, Bernie Williams walks off in game 1, and Aaron Boone wins it off the Knuckler. After A-Rod gets traded to the Yankees (changing his number from 3 to 13 because a certain Yankees' retired digits), the Letter B starts coming through for the Red Sox instead of against them mid-series. All of a sudden, Mark Bellhorn starts getting big hits for the Sox, and 86 years of momentum shifts, leading the Red Sox to beat the Yankees in game 7 at the stroke of midnight (clearly Bellhorn was not the only player factor...I'm just sayin'...The B's!) They have to take on a franchise in the Cardinals who beat them in 7 games TWICE. This time, however, the Red Sox sweep them in 4 games. The last out they need is in the form of Number 3 Edgar Rentaria, and once they get Number 3 out, the Curse of Number 3 will be lifted underneath a full, red harvest moon in St. Louis. This is the type of stuff we writers are supposed to come up with. But there is no way to fix THAT type of narrative.
A spiritual interpretation can be found through a happening in this current Mets season as well. At the beginning of the year, the catcher of the last Mets World Championship passed what felt like much too soon. At the end of Johan's no-hitter, the Mets had 8 hits and 8 runs, and some guy in a Number 8 Carter jersey felt inclined to run out onto the field to join in the celebration. Call it a coincidence, call it whatever you want, but the idea there is something else to it just makes me smile. It adds to the intrigue. It makes me smile that for as long as humans exist and, in turn, as long as humans follow the game and the New York National League Baseball Fans follow the Mets, a Gary Carter Number 8 Jersey will be in the celebration images of a game that lifted a huge burden off every individual attached to this team. What's wrong with thinking Gary Carter's spirit helped them along like Angels in the Outfield? It adds to the smile (and the hope of something else after this world.)
I love baseball. I love the way the field sprawls out in front of me when I'm right behind home plate. I love the layout of the players on the field. I love the smoothness of the game. The way the ground ball goes into the shortstop's glove and the rhythm in which he gathers it and throws to get the runner by a millisecond. I love how majestic the game looks, whether it be the turning of a double play or the simple swing of a bat. The way an outfielder times his jump perfectly to come together with the ball just when the ball was going to come together with the other side of the wall. I love every aspect of this game, and I love that I was destined to root for the Metsies. If they don't win, it's a low-down shame.
I love the New York Mets. I love hearing about Bud Harrelson and Cleon Jones, and how Gil Hodges turned all those boys into men who can compete. I love Todd Pratt's home run and Robin Ventura's home run, and Piazza's home run and Agbayani's home run. And Endy's catch (in the moment it happened.) I love the New Mets. I love the bad Mets. I love that I'll know who Omar Quintanilla is in 20 years. I love this franchise, I love that baseball is the thing I have decided to surround myself with in my life, and I love the 2012 New York Mets.
The Mets could win it all this year. They could win it all next year, they might never win it all again (with the definition of "never" varying depending on the life-span of each individual.) Regardless, the Mets and players such as RA Dickey have taught me to take everything in stride. To learn from your mistakes. Grow from the moments perceived as failures. If you have patience, hard work and dedication, good things will happen. Be humble. Don't celebrate before it's over (like the Red Sox of '86 were doing in the visiting dugout of Shea.)
I'm not sure how my story, your story, the human story or the Orange and Blue story will end. And uncertainty brews fear. But however it goes, I know I'm going to have a whole lotta fun watching baseball and the Mets from now until then.
And hopefully, more often than not, the images we see resemble the image below.
In a night that began with the Long Haul Bombers crushing softballs into the Citi Field stands, us fans were treated to the 2nd best home baseball game of the year (I wonder what the 1st is...) The Mets' offense AND (GASP!) the bullpen bailed a shaky-but-battling Dickey out with a fantastic 6-5 win to take the series right from under the Phillies' nose.
It was pretty clear early on RA did not have his best stuff. Control has been seemingly easy to come by lately, but in the 1st inning, the knuckleball wasn't cooperating for strikes. This was the 1st time all year he has given up 1st inning runs, so you knew something was up. The Phils kept playing our 2-out hit game against him. Jeesh. It was the most hits he's given up all year. But as usual, he limits the damage, gets us into the 7th and gives us a chance to get back in the game. His bat helps us get back in the game, as he is such a good contact hitter, getting a crazy, low and inside hit and scoring the 2nd run to tie the game in the 3rd. He is a true winning player, and I'm glad he's on my team.
When Murph's line drive knocked off Papelbon to tie the game, it was only fitting after the night Wright had that he drives in the winning run. Wright came up in the 3rd with 2 out and the tying run on 3rd...he has a 7-pitch at-bat and knocks a single to tie the game. Another 2-out run. David comes up in the bottom of the 5th with 2 out and a runner on 1st, down 1 run...he crushes the ball to give the Mets the lead. More 2 out runs. The New Franchise comes up in the Bottom of the 9th, 2 out, bases loaded and we've just tied the game...on a 2 out run...he fights the first-pitch fastball off the outside of the plate and dips it in the field just enough in front of a awkward Hunter Pence (he does EVERYTHING awkwardly.) Another 2 out run, another win over the Phillies, another series for the Metsies.
There were 3 plays, outside of an overall individual performance, that, to me, were the differences in this game. 1st, there was Murph's sliding play to grab the ball up the middle to open the 8th, miraculously throwing out Placido Polanco. 2nd, there was Scott Hairston throwing out Mike Fontenot at the plate in the 8th, with Thole holding the ball in his glove on a charging runner. 3rd, there was the Ruben Tejada at-bat in the 9th with 2 out and a runner on 3rd. He saw pitches. He got the walk (and the call.) Without those plays, we're talking about a completely different outcome. Honorable mentions include Ike Davis' 9th inning leadoff double and Jordany Valdespin's at-bat.
I love having DVR so I can record the 2:00PM encore.
And that Softball Home Run Derby pre-game was awesome.
(I was getting the Meet the Mets slice at Two Boots when he hit that bomb. Oh, well. It's always fun to find out about something based on the sound of the crowd.)
Anyway, that was the 2nd most fun I've had at the ballpark this year. Citi Field is rocking right now, and there is no doubt that none of us had yet to feel this kind of electricity in that new building. 1st, it was winning baseball. Then, it was the no-hitter. Last night was one of the most thrilling wins in the last few years (most of the thrilling wins in the last few years have come THIS YEAR.) Last night was an important moment in our season, and you could have argued it was a must-win for a team that MUST CHARGE ON. Now, I want a sweep. Tranquilize those Cubbies. Put those Baby Bears to sleep.
Well, there's nothing really to be said. Chris Young, fantastic through 6, got hit in a hurry once again. Props to the Phils, who desparately needed to break out of a huge funk, and they did so with a 2-9 win. Congrats to Lee on his first win of the year.Let's go get 'em tomorrow at 7:10PM when RA takes on Cole.
'Cause this is what we signed up for. This is why we love this team, and this is why we love this game. How much sweeter is 2012 after having gone through 2006 to 2010? (How much sweeter was the no-hitter having gone through 50 years of 1-hitters?) Every time the Mets have won a ring, they came from outta nowhere. From 2006-2009, they were the "team to beat"... and people beat them. "You Gotta Believe" is the identity of this franchise. We want them to be consistent and they appear to be on their way, from changing "You Gotta Believe" into "Believe it," but nobody ever picked the Mets to win the World Series, or even go to one, at the beginning of the seasons they have won it or have gone there. And the year people probably did pick them to at least make it to the World Series, they had to pull off one of the greatest comebacks in the history of sports to win the trophy. That appears to be the narrative of this franchise. And I love watching it day in and day out.
A spiritual interpretation can be found through a happening in this current Mets season as well. At the beginning of the year, the catcher of the last Mets World Championship passed what felt like much too soon. At the end of Johan's no-hitter, the Mets had 8 hits and 8 runs, and some guy in a Number 8 Carter jersey felt inclined to run out onto the field to join in the celebration. Call it a coincidence, call it whatever you want, but the idea there is something else to it just makes me smile. It adds to the intrigue. It makes me smile that for as long as humans exist and, in turn, as long as humans follow the game and the New York National League Baseball Fans follow the Mets, a Gary Carter Number 8 Jersey will be in the celebration images of a game that lifted a huge burden off every individual attached to this team. What's wrong with thinking Gary Carter's spirit helped them along like Angels in the Outfield? It adds to the smile (and the hope of something else after this world.)
I love baseball. I love the way the field sprawls out in front of me when I'm right behind home plate. I love the layout of the players on the field. I love the smoothness of the game. The way the ground ball goes into the shortstop's glove and the rhythm in which he gathers it and throws to get the runner by a millisecond. I love how majestic the game looks, whether it be the turning of a double play or the simple swing of a bat. The way an outfielder times his jump perfectly to come together with the ball just when the ball was going to come together with the other side of the wall. I love every aspect of this game, and I love that I was destined to root for the Metsies. If they don't win, it's a low-down shame.
