One of the unfortunate tics that accompanies blogging a baseball season is the daily desire to detect patterns, trends and leading indicators of what a given game means. So what does winning a 12-1 romp portend for the 2008 New York Mets?
Damned if I know, damned if I care.
We just kicked the rear end of a Penny so convincingly that an imprint of the Lincoln Memorial should be on the soles of our shoes. We just slipped a mickey into Joe Torre's green tea. We just won 12-1.
What does it mean for the 2008 Mets? It means that for one day, they rule, they totally rule. Clinically speaking, you can't win 12-1 and not rule. You can't win 12-1 and be subject to any serious questioning of your immediate future. Your immediate future belongs to another day. Relax, you just won 12-1. What does it say about the Mets' future? It says the present is perfect. Tonight, live in the present.
Who contributed? Everybody. Everybody contributed. John Maine contributed, coming within two outs of a complete game, falling three baserunners shy of a shutout. Last I checked, pitching 8-1/3 innings and allowing eleven fewer runs than your team scored counts for a win. So he didn't go the distance and he didn't get the shutout. He won. John Maine's the player of the game.
As is every single New York Met who played. Somebody grab a baseball and slice it eleven ways. Hell, cut it into 25 portions. How do we know somebody who didn't pitch or play didn't say something encouraging that made all or some of the difference? It's a good night to hand out benefits of the doubt as well. You've got nothing but players of the game when you win 12-1.
Which we just did. Feels good to know that, if nothing else.