The good part is that Citi Field still knows how to bring the noise for a postseason game. I was there Friday night for Game 1 of the Wild Card Series (or whatever it’s called, I don’t really care), and the stadium was loud bordering on deafening — not just the A/V system, though that was certainly supercharged, but also 40,000-odd fired-up rooters. We roared out “Let’s Go Mets,” we shouted accolades for the Mets assembled on the first-base line whether assistant trainers or batting champs, we carried on as you’d hope a big October crowd would.
One thing I quickly remembered from my last playoff game, now somehow seven years removed, was that few individuals who make up the crowd realize that they cannot, in fact, scream for three straight hours. That typically sinks in around the second or third inning — the pandemonium becomes dotted with pauses, which grow longer and longer, until the crowd, having tired itself out, finally sounds more like what you find at a regular game.
Game 1 was extra-pandemoniac (this is possibly not a word but oh well) because the first inning was action-packed, and unfortunately not in a good way. Max Scherzer gave up a leadoff hit to the annoying Jurickson Profar, looked like he’d get out of the inning, but then surrendered a two-run shot to former teammate Josh Bell to put the Mets in an early hole. Up in section 528, right under Willie Mays‘s 24, my neighbors were vocal about their unhappiness. The Mets made some noise in the bottom of the first against Yu Darvish, he of the lankily hesitant delivery and loaded arsenal of pitches, but the sound and fury signified nothing, as Pete Alonso struck out with a runner on third and one out (don’t do that) and Daniel Vogelbach hit a ball down the right-field line that briefly looked like it would sneak into Utleyville but came up short.
Scherzer gave up a solo homer in the second and the Mets again showed signs of life in response, as the blissfully returned Starling Marte snuck a leadoff single through the infield and then stole second and third. But his teammates once again failed to convert a one-out runner on third — this time it was Eduardo Escobar who struck out — and another promising inning yielded nothing. Up in 528 the roaring had turned into muttering and a sour mood had crept over the proceedings as everyone got the feeling that this might not be our night.
The crowd would achieve full liftoff again, but unfortunately, that was after the roof caved in on Scherzer in a horrific fifth. As he trudged off the mound, the boos that had slowly accumulated during the inning became an avalanche. I was surprised, which I suppose is on me given what I’ve had to admit about human nature over the last few years. Really? Of course we’re all shocked and frustrated, but are you seriously booing Max Scherzer? After what you’ve seen him bring to this team? Do you think he isn’t trying? Do you think he isn’t angrier than you are about what’s happened?
It was shameful. I’ll leave it at that.
The mildest of silver linings was that a lot of the trash then took itself out, leaving mostly diehards who had more measured reactions to the proceedings — and an appreciation for the little things. Some of which were little indeed: Luis Guillorme got cheered just for showing up, Mark Canha for grinding out a long at-bat, and Francisco Alvarez for being part of the presumed future. (Lest things get too treacly around here, none of those episodes actually resulted in a Met hit.)
I heard something else in the diehards’ applause, though — the unhappy but unavoidable knowledge that the end may be near. The postseason is a funny thing — a small slice of the baseball year whose significance distorts the normal ebb and flow of games. A Hall of Fame pitcher shows up missing the “ride” on his fastball and gets strafed. That happens. Not surprisingly, his team loses because of it. But because the game is part of this particular slice of the year, Saturday’s game is suddenly everything. A two-game losing streak against the Padres means the Mets’ season is over. A Mets win Saturday doesn’t set up a rubber game as we think about one from April through September, but a showdown after which 100-odd people get to continue doing what they do while another 100-odd people go home for the winter.
Whatever happens, for at least one more day it’ll be loud. Here’s hoping it’s the better kind of noise — the kind that barely got to be heard on Friday night.
Fortunate for the Mets, the wildcard isn’t one and done like it was in 2016.
Marte’s groin and finger seem healed. I expect he’ll be batting 2nd tonight.
The bullpen held up, albeit the game was knocked out of reach with Scherzer. Which says more about Scherzer’s outing than the Mets bullpen.
Disappointing that WC game 1 carried over from the Braves series. RISP LOB. Scherzer went from bad to worse.
“After what you’ve seen him bring to this team?”
Scherzer was supposed to bring winning pitching for playoff-implication and playoff games like those he started in the Braves series and WC game 1. If he hasn’t brought that, then what has he brought? Losing the big game. More, historically bad losing pitching.
The Mets need deGrom to reclaim his status as sole ace of the Mets tonight. Scherzer has become a confirmed liability. If the Mets come back to win the WC series, both Carrasco and Walker now need to be ready to start.
I’m glad you addressed the boos Jason Since I became a Mets fan it’s long frustrated/puzzled me how poor some of our fan base can be. I get that the booers were disappointed (who wasn’t?) with Max but I’m sure that reception did him no good whatsoever. He knew he was bad, I’m sure he was Uber critical of himself. You had folk on Twitter (a cesspit I know) calling him a “failure!” Cos you know, he had a bad regular season right?
I didn’t hear too much about LOB last night or how we failed to escalate Yu pitch count?
We go AGAIN tonight, do or die. LGM
Agreed. On top of watching your team lose, it’s really hard to hear this kind of ugliness from fellow fans. When an athlete is giving it his all, which Scherzer clearly does, there’s no excuse whatsoever for booing. And, of course, if you’re just selfish and small minded, it’s still a bad idea. Do these people really think that kind of behavior is going to make them play better next time?
Ugh. Didn’t see it, was out so occasional gamecast checks. Until the 5th anyway. When you’re built on pitching and the pitching falls apart things will not go well. Though when you only score 1 things won’t go well either. Losing 2-1 might make me feel a little better but won’t make a difference.
1 for 11 with runners in scoring position. 8 men left on base to their 2 – what was the margin again? Pitchers will have bad games sometimes. The hitting worries me far more. Last night was another example of how power matters.
As the saying goes, we’ll get ’em tomorrow. I hope we’re still saying that around 11 tonight.
On the broadcast, they showed Max warming up before the game and he looked irked and uncomfortable. At some point in the offseason, I expect we will hear that he was not close to 100%.
Given that, it may not have made a difference, but Darvish was not mesmerizing in the early innings and – AGAIN – our offense couldn’t get that one or two hits that were so plentiful one first part of the season.
Appreciate your insights from being there.
I get what you’re saying about booing Max but I also get New Yorkers, New Yorkers I emphasize, booing the $130M man brought and bought to bring a WS, who blew up instead of blowing away SD batters.
I hope Cohen learned his lesson and doesn’t sign de Grom, another 35+ yr old pitcher, this one with an injury hx that is screaming “danger Will Robinson.”
The clips ESPN showed of Scherzer warming up in the pen gave the impression that he was in some degree of discomfort. If he was in pain, he should have told Showalter that he couldn’t go and let Bassitt start getting warmed up, even if someone else pitched the 1st. This was no time for him to prove what a gamer he is.
I don’t see how last night’s outcome shows that “power matters.” San Diego is a below average team in HRs this year, considerably weaker than the Mets in that department. Two of the Padres’ HRs were by players who are not power hitters at all. The Mets top three home run hitters (Alonso, Lindor, Escobar) have 86 home runs combined. Machado, Soto, and Bell have 76, including the ones the latter two hit as Nats. So, the team with more power lost.
Or is the argument that a team that hits four home runs in a game will usually win? In which case, you may be on to something.
Still has Vogie hitting 6th and best current hitter Escobar batting 8th. Insane.
You really want to see Alvarez with 4 ABs tonight vs. quality pitchers? Has done nothing except two bombs vs horrid pitching. Took a third strike down the middle last night and laughed. Waves at or makes no attempt at outside pitches rather than go to right field. Love him longterm but not ready now. And due to Eppler’s flop only real alternative is….Ruf.
Alvarez is so obviously not ready for prime time. Not sure why he is even on the roster. Something Eppler should have considered at least a month ago, not in late September.
Alvarez took a while to get going in AAA and he was hurt. In terms of versatility, he plays a position with low tolerance for subpar defense. In terms of his bat, the Mets ran down the list before resorting to Alvarez: Davis and Smith, Naquin and Ruf, Baty and Vientos, Marte hurt.
Add that Guillorme’s bat has weakened a lot, which diminishes the Escobar DH option with Marte back. The alternatives to Alvarez aren’t better, so I don’t mind trying to catch lightning in a bottle.
I don’t know what will happen tonight, although I’m not confident, but if the Mets do spit the bit, I am very interested in Steve Cohen’s response. I certainly hope it’s much more than the awful Wilpons pat uninspiring words after some abysmal late season collapses. I almost want him to go Steinbrenner even if it is just a little. This culture has to change. This organization needs to grow some balls. We haven’t had those in many decades.
Cohen even traveled to Atlanta to witness the debacle in person. I wonder how he felt talking with his Braves counterparts after the series. I assume he’s watching the wildcard games in person, too. So if the team loses the wildcard series in the same way they lost in Atlanta, I’ll be curious about Cohen’s reaction, too.
As for booing Scherzer’s failure and the RISP LOB, don’t forget the Braves series just happened. Mets fans looked for the team to rebound and quickly learn the elimination-quality lessons taught by the 5-time NL East winner and defending MLB champion. Instead, the flaws that sank the Mets in the Braves series carried over to wildcard game 1. If anything, they got worse.
101 wins, second most in Mets history, is an accomplishment that should be appreciated in its own right in the regular-season context. But in the championship context, if the Mets follow up the ugly way they lost the division to the Braves by soon after losing the wildcard series the same way, the 2022 season will join other failures in Mets history that redefined an erstwhile contender as a pretender. I wouldn’t put it over the 2007 Mets, but I’d put it in that class.
I wouldn’t worry too much about the boos — they’re just the inverse of cheers; a way for fans to communicate immediately with a player. Deafening silence would also work… I am more concerned there’s something wrong with Max.
…It was shameful. I’ll leave it at that.
Seriously?? I read that and then continued, fully expecting the thought to be contradicted by a snide remark that I would get a chuckle from. But there was none.
At the very least, it wasn’t shameful, it was New York. And what did you expect, a round of applause for his second straight for all the $43 million marbles bad outing? I would have booed too. (I did in fact boo, but as a viewing party of one.)
I’m not sure if I’ve ever disagreed with either of you guys more.
Sorry, maybe I’m just not as good a person.
But right now, he sucks, and he deserved it.
I have to say, I’m onboard with Ken K. in NJ. The “shameful” comment rubbed me the wrong way too. And I’m not even the “boo-bird” type. I think I get part of what Jason was alluding to; it can feel pretty embarrassing being seated among your fellow Mets fans, while they may be acting, shall we say, “less than debonair.” I wasn’t at the game, so it’s hard for me to say for sure if I’d have been wholeheartedly in support of the booing, or leaning more towards embarrassment and shame, but I can certainly say, from home, I felt a strong sense of disgust… with the pitching performance (hitting wasn’t much better; it’s not ALL on Scherzer). Probably way more than I rationally should have. So I try to tell myself “It’s just a game,” or “I shouldn’t take it so personally.” And that first ‘myself’ would be right…100% of the time. But that’s the rational, “good-angel-on the shoulder” ‘me.’ Sometimes, I want that ‘me’ to shut the hell up and let “devil and horns” ‘me’ twist away with his little pitchfork. As Chris Christie so aptly said to Bill Maher last night on his show, the reason he forced all his children to be Mets fans was because they needed to learn that “life is full of pain and disappointment!” “Amen to that,” said the “devil and horns” me.
Everyone had every right to boo last night’s pitiful showing. The Mets’s star players, the marquee names, are coming up short, and have been for the last month. Witness Petey (Vogelbach too) just standing there looking at pitches right over the plate. I’ve heard the excuses, but the bottom line is that Alonso, Lindor, Scherzer, deGrom, they haven’t risen to the occasion at all. If they had beaten Atlanta just once, none of this would even be happening right now. But they failed, in pathetic fashion too. These are not hard-luck, bad break losses. They’re just plain getting beat. If they come out again tonight all lifeless and listless, it’s gonna be real tough to get all jazzed up again come April.
April, come she will, Lenny. And so will your hopes for 2023. You don’t just wake up one morning and turn off the conditioning that has been with you since…well, forever. New York fans are nowhere near the boorishness of Philly fans. Like another poster offered, it seems like Max is not himself; he’s a warrior with war paint but something’s wrong. Perhaps we will find out more later on.
Beyond the power outage, I don’t understand Vogelbach’s inability to see strikes in or close to the zone. I can forgive swinging and missing. I can’t condone watching hit-able pitches breeze by. That’s galling and boo worthy. Especially, when that’s your bread and butter. Hoping for a rebound, but not holding my breath. LGFM!
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