Well, on the plus side Schoeneweis didn't allow a hit in the inning.
You knew this one would end strangely, and not just because the Mets were playing in West Kamchatka. Though that's often enough — I don't think I've ever watched a road game against the Padres and not felt like I was up in the middle of the night watching the Mets play in the Tokyo Dome. I know San Diego's no farther than L.A. or San Francisco — heck, I've been to the place — but it sure feels like it is. And it doesn't help when you're playing a lineup that sounds like a videogame maker didn't pay the MLBPA the rights for player names. McAnulty? Carlin? Banks? Who?
Mike Pelfrey's line looks OK, but he certainly had his Brian Bannister going on. You thought it was amazing that I got out of this straitjacket? Then watch me emerge from this LOCKED CHEST THROWN INTO THE RIVER! And now, for my next trick … oh hell, I've thrown 112 pitches. Never mind.
Give this game credit, of an I-didn't-ask-for-this sort, for featuring not one but two moments where I couldn't figure out what was going on and was left goggling like a fish in the bottom of a boat. The first came when Kevin Kouzmanoff's groundout to Reyes caromed off Tadahito Iguchi, becoming a hit for Kouzmanoff (Gary's right, that's a stupid rule) but the third out of the inning. Between Iguchi twitching in the air like he'd stepped on a downed power line and Wright pointing and yelling, I was completely lost. Wha? It hit him? The second moment, of course, was the culmination of the Misadventures of Scott Schoeneweis, which left me spinning around in my seat to stare at the radio. Wha? It hit him?
So Kouzmanoff got a hit without ever reaching first and McAnulty got an RBI without swinging the bat. And Schoeneweis got this not-a-typo line added to his resume:
0.1 IP 0 H 1 R 1 ER 3 BB 0 SO 0 HR
Oh, and 1 L [1].
Not weird enough for you? I suppose it could have gone into McAnulty's shirt.