Don't Sweat the Sweep

Losing to the Yankees hurts.  No matter how much we downplay the Subway Series as an event gone stale, the minutes, hours, and even days after a Mets loss to our cross-town rivals are never fun.  Especially when it happens three times in one weekend.

But while most sweeps of the Mets bring on a sense of impending doom, particularly ones that come at the hands of the Yankees, this one didn't feel quite so bad. 

For one, these Mets are ridiculously over-matched by the Yankees roster.  A comparative look at the lineups for each game was almost comical; the Yankees started a current or former all-star at almost every position, while the Mets put out a number of guys that all but die-hard fans need to Google.  Nothing symbolizes this mismatch more than the words "Derek Jeter vs. Omar Quintanilla".

To make matters worse, Yankee stadium is tailor-made (literally) for the home team, and just about the  exact opposite for the Mets.  The joke of a right field porch is perfect for a Yankee team that lives and dies by home runs, Russel Martin's back breaking Yankee Stadium special in game 3 being the prime example.  For a Mets squad that that often needs three consecutive singles to produce a single run, even a little-league-sized outfield is of little use.  

Yet despite these personnel and stadium discrepancies, the Mets still could have won two of the three games.  A pitch thrown in a different spot here, a routine defensive play made there, and things could have been very different this weekend.  Yes, poor defense and even worse relief pitching are less excuses than signs of a very imperfect team, but the Mets once again showed off their solid starting pitching and ability to mount comebacks.

And that bounce-back ability is another reason why this sweep was not the end of the Mets world.  The Mets have responded well to adversity several times this season, and did so again by thrashing the tough Rays tonight.  Once NL-only play resumes, against teams who's number nine hitters are most unlikely to hit two homeruns, the Mets should be back in their element. 

Things will be different next weekend at Citi Field, where Russel Martin will look more like Rey Ordonez (or Jason Bay) than Babe Ruth.  The mighty Yankees might still win that series, and will likely be ahead of the Mets come season's end, but that won't matter much.

After all, we won't have to play them again until October.  

  

My Night at the No-Hitter

On Friday night, at around 6pm, I decided to buy a ticket to the Mets game.  It was a nice night, tickets were cheap, Santana was pitching, and my coworker, a Cardinals fan, was already going.  It was the best last minute decision I've ever made.

Every Mets game in history has provided the same fleeting moment of disappointment; the moment when that first bunt, bloop, or line drive by the opposing team falls in for a hit and we realize that history will not be made.    Amazingly, on this night, that moment never came.    

The first few innings went by with zeroes across the board, but it still felt like any other Mets game.  By the end of the 5th, with the game now official, I was secretly hoping a downpour would come and cause a rain shortened no-hitter (I later found out shortened no-hitters do not count).

The rain, fortunately, never came, but the baseball miracles did.  After Beltran's phantom foul ball and subsequent ground out in the 6th, there was a collective sigh of relief.  When Mike Baxter somehow tracked down Yadier Molina's long line drive, sacrificing his shoulder in the process, Citi Field was as loud as I've ever heard it.  The unthinkable was still possible.

When the top of the 8th rolled around, you could sense the term "no-hitter" was on mind of every fan in the stadium.  Of course, out of pure fear, no Mets fan would dare speak those words.  But that didn't stop every Cardinals fan in my section from trying to jinx it ("Did you know Santana is throwing a no-hitter?").  Still, inning over, zero hits.

The bottom of the 8th was just plain strange.  For the first time ever I was hoping the Mets would get out quickly.  Nobody in the stands seemed to really be paying attention.  When Santana came up to bat he received a less-than-overwhelming applause.  Only the ninth inning mattered to anyone.

Every moment of that final inning was full of nervous energy.  I was probably not alone in thinking, almost expecting, that the Cards would get a hit in the 9th.  The first batter hit a liner to center that looked like a hit off the bat.  The second batter hit a bloop that looked like it might fall on the infield grass.  The third batter went ahead 3-0, with Met-killer Molina waiting on deck to break the hearts of Mets fans yet again.

But three strikes later, the Citi Field crowd erupted like it was Game 7 of the World Series.  After what Mets fans have been through, it may as well have been.