Gosh, didn't see that coming.
To borrow an observation from last week's Mad Men, watching Guillermo Mota set down the Phillies 1-2-3 in the ninth was like watching a dog play the piano. It was very impressive. And you knew he was highly unlikely to do it again.
Mets aren't hitting anymore, are they? For a while they had one scalding hot batter at a time — first Alou, then Beltran, then Wright. I kept thinking “if they could just get those guys to do it at the same time…” Instead everybody got together and went quiet. Reyes, too.
It's tempting to say games like tonight always happen to the Mets at the Cit as they always seemed to at the Vet, even if I know it's untrue. Yet the Mets played a virtual prototype of this game last May, including Heilman giving up a key run on a ball that didn't reach the mound. It feels very familiar. Hauntingly so. Maybe it was just one of the 54 you're gonna lose, though at this stage of the season, it's a little late to accept blows like tonight's.
Armando didn't kill the Marlins. They beat the Braves. They remain just close enough to merit concern. The Phillies are either charging or peaking. I'm not yet certain, but I'm certain they're making it hard (maybe it's supposed to be hard, but it's not supposed to be obnoxiously so). I'd rather be four up than four back. But I'd rather be six up. I'd rather Glavine had pitched the eighth. I'd rather Guillermo Mota had been suspended for 50 years, not 50 games.
You can't always get what you want.