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Jason Fry and Greg Prince
Faith and Fear in Flushing made its debut on Feb. 16, 2005, the brainchild of two longtime friends and lifelong Met fans.

Greg Prince discovered the Mets when he was 6, during the magical summer of 1969. He is a Long Island-based writer, editor and communications consultant. Contact him here.

Jason Fry is a Brooklyn writer whose first memories include his mom leaping up and down cheering for Rusty Staub. Check out his other writing here.

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The Cure-All

Earl Weaver, a wise man, once cracked that momentum is the next day’s starting pitcher. Games take the form of stories as they unfold, but all those stories start with the guy on the mound. If he’s got his full arsenal, recent frustrations and failures are likely to dissipate. If he’s got nothing, a run of positive outcomes will likely come to a screeching halt.

Fortunately for the shooting-at-their-own-feet Mets, Jacob deGrom had everything working Friday night, most notably a fastball with movement and bite, one that seem to grind up Diamondback bats and batters. Paul Goldschmidt looked particularly helpless, lost in one of those fogs during which a hitter can’t remember ever doing anything positive, but no Diamondback looked excited to be in the batter’s box. DeGrom did his job and more — I didn’t think it was a particularly good idea to send him back out for the seventh given recent events, but he struck out Alex Avila with a runner at third and one out, then retired Jarrod Dyson to walk off the mound to much-deserved applause.

The Mets, meanwhile, seemed determine to do as little as possible against Zack Godley, who had little feel for the location of his breaking ball. But with deGrom good as he was, a little was a lot. Michael Conforto went 4-for-4, a breakout that was really the BABIP Gods finally smiling on him: Conforto, you may recall, was robbed of two hits in Wednesday’s soakfest.

Conforto shaking off the rust of his freak shoulder injury and curtailed spring training would be a much-needed jolt for a flat, injury-riddled club that’s been shorn of Yoenis Cespedes and Todd Frazier, is getting nothing from Jay Bruce, and just lost Juan Lagares for the year. Lagares’s erasure left Mickey Callaway talking about Wilmer Flores and Jose Reyes as outfielders, which sounds like a terrible idea even by Metsian standards; more likely is that the job will go to Ezequiel Carrera, just signed to a minor-league contract along with infielder Christian Colon.

Carrera did nothing in the Braves’ system this year and is now on his third organization of the calendar year, but he did hit .280 with 10 steals for Toronto last year, and is certainly a better idea than witnessing Wilmer Flores aiming a terrified look heavenward while staggering around in left field. (It’s even a homecoming of sorts — Carrera began his professional career as a Met farmhand way back in 2005, departing in 2008 in a deal that was more Roman orgy than baseball transaction, involving three teams and 11 players.)

So the Mets got a stellar pitching performance, hit enough, didn’t take the field wearing uniforms that made you want to flush your eyes with lye, and won in a tidy two and a half hours. That will do nicely … at least until tomorrow night, when they continue their thrilling, monthlong quest to win two games in a row.

Steven Matz will be your starting pitcher. For a read on the momentum, check back in 24 hours or so.

2 comments to The Cure-All

  • Daniel Hall

    I distantly remember E. Carrera (I can’t type that name… impossible.) as some other team’s scum, but couldn’t point him anywhere specific. But that does not matter anymore, for he’s our scum now.

    Although it would be very metsy if they somehow still worked Wilmer Flores into getting some live-fire reps in centerfield, just long enough for him to collide with fresh-out-of-the-freezer Conforto, breaking a leg or two, and you just know that someone would get an elbow into the eye.

    Rick Ankiel back on the roster in three, two, one…