With one out in the top of the ninth in Cincinnati Wednesday night, a baseball team and its adherents desperately needed therapy.
Mark Canha had just started the inning by fouling out against Hunter Strickland, conspicuously useless as a 2020 COVID Met and now somehow the Reds’ closer. The Mets had managed two runs against Cincinnati, an improvement over Tuesday night even if one of those runs had come on a Jeff McNeil grounder past a nearly sessile Brandon Drury and the other had come on a broken-bat parachute hit by Tomas Nido. But the Reds had tallied three on a night new father David Peterson looked … well, like a man who hadn’t slept properly in a couple of days.
The Mets had stayed in the picture thanks to some sparkling relief by Adonis Medina (who might get sent down by way of thanks) and the aptly named Colin Holderman, but it sure looked like they were about to lose, and it was just a little frustrating. Most obviously, there was the lack of hitting. More specifically, there was the lack of hitting against the thoroughly lousy Reds, a ragamuffin assemblage foisted on fans who deserve better. The Mets had 11 hits, which normally means three or four runs even when not firing on all cylinders, but their sequencing had been nonexistent and their luck had been inexplicably and almost comically bad. Now add in far too much Dada umpiring — I think home-plate ump Paul Clemons was using a Magic 8-ball for anything near the edge of the strike zone — and word that the horrifying Braves were winning again and it was suddenly just all too much.
Brandon Nimmo singled, but that felt like more proof that baseball is capricious and cruel and engineered to torture you. And then Starling Marte smacked a ball down the left-field line, over the third-base bag and foul. Except third-base ump Alex MacKay called it fair.
I don’t know, maybe it was fair. That’s one of the most difficult calls for an umpire. But it sure didn’t look fair to me — or to Strickland, who stared at Nimmo in disbelief as he scampered home and then spent the bottom half of the inning glowering at MacKay with cartoon steam whistling out of his ears. The game didn’t make any more sense than it had a moment earlier, but now it was the Reds who were gape-mouthed with disbelief.
(By the way, how did a game with so much farcical umpiring not feature a big moment from that cackling gremlin Angel Hernandez?)
Tapped to pitch next for New York was Adam Ottavino, whom I like while not particularly trusting. The lack of trust is a product of that sometimes disobedient slider he depends on; the liking is a product of the fact that Ottavino always looks deeply weary on the mound, weighed down by the psychic tonnage of being a veteran reliever who’s Seen Some Shit.
On Wednesday night Ottavino’s pitches were riding high, but the Reds did nothing with them. On we went to extra innings and ghost runners, with Ender Inciarte replacing Pete Alonso as the Mets’ unearned passenger. McNeil flied out, but Dom Smith snuck a double past Drury (who really shouldn’t be forced to play first) and the Mets had somehow scored. Dauri Moreta — if nothing else there are some wonderful names in that beleaguered Cincinnati pen — buzzed Eduardo Escobar, leading to some barking and brief on-field milling before Escobar flied out. (I was mostly worried that Strickland would use a brawl as cover for an opportunity to shank MacKay, which would probably lead to at least a moderate suspension.) Moreta then intentionally walked Luis Guillorme to get to pinch-hitter James McCann, which is what I would have done, seeing how McCann is 1 for 342,612 in his tenure as a Met with 342,611 ground outs.
Make it 2 for 342,613: McCann somehow lashed an RBI single to give the Mets a two-run lead, because nothing made sense any more. And then Nimmo unloaded, burying a homer in the right-field corner much as he did against St. Louis. It was one of those baseball moments where frustration gets transmuted into joy, a balloon carving madcap zigzags beneath the ceiling as all that stale imprisoned air escapes and blares a PPPPPPTTTTTTTT of amazed happy defiance.
The Mets led by five, a lead they turned over to Edwin Diaz in a non-save situation. That’s not always been a recipe for success, but Diaz was apparently feeling some frustration himself, because he simply erased the Reds with 101 MPH heat and that deadly slider. Seriously, the man had a five-run lead and that was probably the most impressive he’s ever looked in a Met uniform. Maybe the Mets should try to figure out how to keep him frustrated. Or maybe the lesson is the same as it was when the Mets were losing — that some nights nothing makes sense, because baseball is like that, and it’s maddening but OK because this time your team staggered out of the funhouse having somehow won.
Excellent recap, Jason. You captured the feeling of helplessness when “McCan’t” strolls to the plate with RISP. Something about blind squirrels and acorns, eh? His recent comments about Alvarez may suggest that he pines (pun intended) to return to skilled defensive back-up status. BTW, I had to call the bullpen thesaurus for “sessile.” Thanks for expanding our collective vocabulary.
One of my favorite things to see in a ball game is when a guy is walked intentionally and the next guy up makes the pitcher pay. It just encapsulates everything that is great about the sport – the competitiveness, the mano-a-mano nature of pitcher vs. batter, everything. Kevin McReynolds used to be a master at that particular art – pitchers often walked Straw in front of him, and and he didn’t take kindly to it. Good for McCann – and good for Nimmo for putting up the exclamation point after.
I have to say, having seen the replay I’m a little surprised the Reds didn’t challenge the Marte double. And it’s still a little weird seeing old enemy Ender Inciarte as one of the good guys. It’s kind of like the (good) weirdness of Orel Hershiser having been a Met for a little while.
Gary mentioned it wasn’t a challengeable call.
They had to win this one, somehow. There was no choice.
https://www.mlb.com/glossary/rules/replay-review “Specified fair/foul ball calls: Calls involving a decision regarding whether a batted ball was foul are reviewable only on balls that first land at or beyond the set positions of the first- or third-base umpire.”
Marte’s double first landed between home plate and third base in front of the third-base umpire’s set position.
Seen Some Shit.
That could be applied to ALOT of Mets.
Diaz was extra pumped because his family was in town for the series, seeing as how his little brother (who’s bigger) plays for the Reds. In the first two games, Edwin didn’t get to pitch, so he was hyper-excited about getting into this game, even in a non-save situation. We should have his family follow him around to every game if this is the result!
And Lindor’s mom, too.
It was a much needed, gratifying win, but I’ll take the glass half empty view. The Mets played down to the worst team in the league and lost a game they should have won and needed a lucky break to win last night’s game.
The RISP LOB problem persisted until the 10th inning. (I don’t count the 9th inning with Marte’s foul double followed by 2 weak outs by the Mets’ RBI leaders.) Hopefully the 10th inning will prove to be a wake-up and not the exception because the Marlins are better than the Reds, winning games, and on the verge of entering the chase for the 3rd wildcard slot.
I was iffy about Diaz pitching the 10th with a 5 run lead, warmed up or not, with a tougher opponent the next night. But his family was in attendance, he didn’t pitch in the 1st 2 games, and he was warmed up, so I’m okay with it.
Smith’s hits were the most promising result of the game. Also, credit to Guillorme for his slick tags at 2nd base, especially on McNeil’s assist on a wide throw.
Me: “Marte’s foul double”
I take that back. Rewatching the video of Marte’s 9th inning double and reading over https://www.mlb.com/glossary/rules/foul-ball, the ball was either fair or too close to third base when ball passed third base to say for sure the ball went foul, even if the play were reviewable.
Relevant rule: “Batted balls that first contact the field between home plate and first or third base are considered foul if they don’t subsequently bounce over or directly contact either base, otherwise pass either base while in fair territory, or ultimately settle at some point in fair territory between home plate and either base.”
Marte’s double “first contact[ed] the field between home plate and … third base”. The ball then either “subsequently bounce[d] over” third base or passed too close to third base to say for sure the ball didn’t “bounce over” third base. After bouncing over third base, the ball landed in foul territory, which is why I thought it was a foul ball. But according to the foul ball rule, where the ball first lands after passing third base doesn’t matter if the ball “first contact[s] the field between home plate and … third base”. It only matters whether the ball “bounce[s] over” third base. Where the ball lands after it passes third base is irrelevant.
Well, that’s why I’m glad I’m not an ump. These guys need to know that entire rule book backwards and forward, and apply it to every play that takes place on the field. Then their every action, or lack thereof, is subject to public scrutiny, and possibly to being overturned very publicly. And if they really screw up, they’ll read about it in the papers. Not my idea of a fun, stress-free job.
By the way, based on yesterday’s results, I’d say that Wednesday’s 10th inning was definitely a wake up call.
[…] Sweet Relief » […]
open the gates,
In the case of that Marte 9th inning game-tying RBI double, the umpire was right, and we — including me and our host — were wrong. Or at least the umpire’s call was too close to being right for us to say with confidence he was wrong.
Interesting revelation if I understand the foul ball rule correctly: A batted ball can be fair if it never lands in fair territory if it contacts the field on the foul side of the line before 1st or 3rd base, bounces over 1st or 3rd base, and then lands in foul territory beyond the base. It’s a physics-defying possibility, but I can imagine it happening with just the right spin on the bounce for the ball to pass over the outer edge of the base and then a strong enough wind to blow the ball back foul when it lands on the far side of the base.