(no subject)
Typically, in competitive sports, you have two teams vying to end the game with their side on top. What happens before then comprises the full spectrum of magic that is competition. And then you have instances like last night's Mets-Pirates match, where the game itself just gives up and bellows, "Go the fuck home, you sorry bastards! I'm done already! See you tomorrow."
Not that I can blame the game one bit. The players, on the other hand... Well, I'm getting ahead of myself.
It all started before I had navigated my way through the ticket line and into the stadium. That confused roar/moan I heard? Nate McLouth hitting a leadoff home run off of Johan Santana. I later learned Nate's last name rhymes with McSouth, and not McSooth, as I had always sounded it out in my head. Or it does to the Mets' PA guy anyway.
A couple innings later, Santana gives up another solo shot, to Jason Bay. 2-0 Pirates. This is Santana's second home start. In his first start at Shea, he pulled the pins on three bombs and left the game under a shower of ribald vowel sounds. Much has been said about this treatment of the Mets new ace, but yet again, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Church is finally good for me, for once in my life. Sunday, Ryan Church saves a game-tying run with a sprinting, falling, crashing catch at the wall, and Tuesday, he hits a two-run game-tying long ball. Nope, I actually have nothing bad to say about this Roamin' Catalyst Church.
A previously struggling Jose Reyes triples in Endy Chavez. A previously sizzling David Wright narrowly avoids a double play and drives in a run, courtesy of a Pirate error. 4-2 Mets.
Johan is laboring. Despite giving up only those two mistake runs, he's over the 100 pitch mark in the sixth inning, thanks to a mix of walks, strikeouts and fouls. He leaves the bases loaded to a guilt-ridden ovation. Pedro Feliciano gets a quick out so the Mets could move on.
And now we move into the angst-and-ennui portion of the Mets game. I think one of the reasons Mets fans are so bent out of shape about our bullpen is that we are forced to see EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN MEMBER OF IT EVERY NIGHT. If it's possible to imagine a night in which the Mets' starter gets within one out of a complete game, I can also imagine the Mets using 6 relievers to get that last out. I can't even tell anymore whether this is due more to crappy pitching or bullpen micromanagement. Anyway, this night's parade continued with Aaron Heilman, who at this point may have developed a low "OOOOOOOOO" tinnitus in both ears. Still, the Mets made it through two scary innings only shaving their two run lead in half. No problem though; we have Billy Wagner warming up, and he hasn't even allowed a run yet this year!
Shit. Well at least he still hasn't ALLOWED a run this year. Okay, so bottom of the ninth, time for some heroics. Reyes gets on base for the sixth out of six tries. (HEY!) Castillo bunts him over. (OH BOY, HERE WE GO!) David Wright hits a ball deep into the cold, brittle air, and it settles into a glove. (STILL JUST NEED A SINGLE!) Carlos Beltran slaps a ball sharply towards the second-base hole and, no wait that's the second baseman.
This goes on for a couple more innings. Normally, extra innings thrill me, especially when I'm present for them. This night though didn't feel exciting, mostly because it was just cold enough not to FEEL anything. This dance continued just long enough to drag the top of the Mets lineup nigh and by then, the game's own weight seemed to be dragging itself down:
Single by Endy Chavez. hey.
Endy to second on a balk. grand.
Sacrifice to third. oh boy lookit that.
Reyes intentional walk and fielder's indifference advance. no run? pff.
Castillo regular-style walk. bases are, what's that called? loaded?
Bases loaded, one out, bottom of the 11th inning, with your team's best hitter at the plate, and I'm just guessing here, fills most Baseball fans with elation, hope, joy, and anticipation... you know, emotions. Last night, I was trying to calculate how many more fans would leave the stadium if Wright bounced into an inning-ending double play. 10% more? 30%? What percentage would that be of the total game attendance? Hmm...
Wright lofts a ball high down the first base line. It falls in the corner, behind a seating bulkhead, obscuring its status to much of the stadium. The fans look around at each other. The players look around at each other. The umpires look around at each other. A signal is given: fair ball. The game, not seeing anyone else take charge and change the course of history, took care of it for us. Fans, players, umpires - we all get to go home now.
And the Mets won.
Programming note - I ran out of time tonight, but there's a lot going on this week. Coming soon:
Mets fans: Assholes, or just asshats?
44 years of Shea Stadium: What's good about that place again?
The Toronto Bills: Why it's sometimes best not to live in the city of the team you root for
Not that I can blame the game one bit. The players, on the other hand... Well, I'm getting ahead of myself.
It all started before I had navigated my way through the ticket line and into the stadium. That confused roar/moan I heard? Nate McLouth hitting a leadoff home run off of Johan Santana. I later learned Nate's last name rhymes with McSouth, and not McSooth, as I had always sounded it out in my head. Or it does to the Mets' PA guy anyway.
A couple innings later, Santana gives up another solo shot, to Jason Bay. 2-0 Pirates. This is Santana's second home start. In his first start at Shea, he pulled the pins on three bombs and left the game under a shower of ribald vowel sounds. Much has been said about this treatment of the Mets new ace, but yet again, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Church is finally good for me, for once in my life. Sunday, Ryan Church saves a game-tying run with a sprinting, falling, crashing catch at the wall, and Tuesday, he hits a two-run game-tying long ball. Nope, I actually have nothing bad to say about this Roamin' Catalyst Church.
A previously struggling Jose Reyes triples in Endy Chavez. A previously sizzling David Wright narrowly avoids a double play and drives in a run, courtesy of a Pirate error. 4-2 Mets.
Johan is laboring. Despite giving up only those two mistake runs, he's over the 100 pitch mark in the sixth inning, thanks to a mix of walks, strikeouts and fouls. He leaves the bases loaded to a guilt-ridden ovation. Pedro Feliciano gets a quick out so the Mets could move on.
And now we move into the angst-and-ennui portion of the Mets game. I think one of the reasons Mets fans are so bent out of shape about our bullpen is that we are forced to see EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN MEMBER OF IT EVERY NIGHT. If it's possible to imagine a night in which the Mets' starter gets within one out of a complete game, I can also imagine the Mets using 6 relievers to get that last out. I can't even tell anymore whether this is due more to crappy pitching or bullpen micromanagement. Anyway, this night's parade continued with Aaron Heilman, who at this point may have developed a low "OOOOOOOOO" tinnitus in both ears. Still, the Mets made it through two scary innings only shaving their two run lead in half. No problem though; we have Billy Wagner warming up, and he hasn't even allowed a run yet this year!
Shit. Well at least he still hasn't ALLOWED a run this year. Okay, so bottom of the ninth, time for some heroics. Reyes gets on base for the sixth out of six tries. (HEY!) Castillo bunts him over. (OH BOY, HERE WE GO!) David Wright hits a ball deep into the cold, brittle air, and it settles into a glove. (STILL JUST NEED A SINGLE!) Carlos Beltran slaps a ball sharply towards the second-base hole and, no wait that's the second baseman.
This goes on for a couple more innings. Normally, extra innings thrill me, especially when I'm present for them. This night though didn't feel exciting, mostly because it was just cold enough not to FEEL anything. This dance continued just long enough to drag the top of the Mets lineup nigh and by then, the game's own weight seemed to be dragging itself down:
Single by Endy Chavez. hey.
Endy to second on a balk. grand.
Sacrifice to third. oh boy lookit that.
Reyes intentional walk and fielder's indifference advance. no run? pff.
Castillo regular-style walk. bases are, what's that called? loaded?
Bases loaded, one out, bottom of the 11th inning, with your team's best hitter at the plate, and I'm just guessing here, fills most Baseball fans with elation, hope, joy, and anticipation... you know, emotions. Last night, I was trying to calculate how many more fans would leave the stadium if Wright bounced into an inning-ending double play. 10% more? 30%? What percentage would that be of the total game attendance? Hmm...
Wright lofts a ball high down the first base line. It falls in the corner, behind a seating bulkhead, obscuring its status to much of the stadium. The fans look around at each other. The players look around at each other. The umpires look around at each other. A signal is given: fair ball. The game, not seeing anyone else take charge and change the course of history, took care of it for us. Fans, players, umpires - we all get to go home now.
And the Mets won.
Programming note - I ran out of time tonight, but there's a lot going on this week. Coming soon:
Mets fans: Assholes, or just asshats?
44 years of Shea Stadium: What's good about that place again?
The Toronto Bills: Why it's sometimes best not to live in the city of the team you root for