Well, for 10 minutes or so that looked like a nice ballgame.
The Mets looked like they might get no-hit by Matt Cain, but escaped that indignity when Ruben Tejada slapped a single beyond the extremity of where a shortstop can field it. Hooray for a hit, but could they score a run? They’d need to, because Jonathon Niese had been scratched for one when Brandon Hicks — whom you may recall as having done absolutely nothing with a glove or a bat for the Mets in spring training this year — tripled and Brandon Crawford drove him in with a sac fly.
But wait! In the top of the seventh Matt den Dekker doubled and for once I was actually OK with the inevitable Terry Collins bunt. But nope, Daniel Murphy drove a home run off the top of the right-field wall, and just like that the Giants were the ones who were behind, victimized by the kind of thing that we think only happens to us.
Unfortunately, there were still pitches for the Mets to make. Or not make. With two outs in the bottom of the seventh Niese walked the irritatingly no-longer-terrible Hicks, then threw (in rapid succession) a wild pitch and a poorly located pitch. Crawford lashed the latter into center, we were tied, Carlos Torres took over and hung a slider to Buster Posey, we were no longer tied, and you knew the Met bats weren’t going to do anything else. At least it only took 137 minutes for the loss to be recorded, instead of the usual twice that.
Whatcha gonna do? The Giants are good; the Mets aren’t good. The Giants had two productive Brandons; the Mets only have Brandon of Brandon & Alexa fame, though honestly he couldn’t be worse than Chris Young. It was fun walloping the Phillies a long time ago on the other side of the continent, but nothing has been fun since. The Mets will probably win another game, though I wouldn’t be shocked if they didn’t.
Since there’s more season to play, some options:
1) The Mets quietly disband after losing the last two games of this series. Would anybody notice? SNY could run ads for 50 Cent’s concert, Brandon and Alexa could continue acting excited about unexciting merchandise, and Mr. Met could become a goodwill ambassador for the city as a whole. We could spend the rest of our lives in an ahistorical void watching endless Mets Yearbooks, tweeting at each other that Dave Kingman seems nice when he’s been given a shitload of Thorazine and that everything will be better now that Tim Foli has arrived. Or was that Mike Vail?
2) Go horseback riding with Ticket Oak. Screw it, it’ll probably go better than staking one’s happiness on this misfit band.
3) Keep watching this increasingly boring, slow-motion train wreck.
I guess we’re stuck with No. 3, but right now I’d sign on for Nos. 1 or 2.