Such Efficient Losing

The Mets haven’t lost more than two consecutive games all year. But they sure do pack a lot of defeat into their brief losing streaks.

Sunday…yeech. Monday… more of that. The back-to-back scores — 8-2 and 3-1 — were dissimilar, but the trajectory duplicated itself. Mets fall behind. Mets stay in it. Mets loiter in it. Mets lose. Mets fan asks, “What has been done with my heretofore awesome team, and when it will it be returned to its formerly pleasing state?”

In the chilly state known provincially as the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, the Mets appeared all but invisible versus the Red Sox, probably because they didn’t show up until after their presence was kindly requested. They certainly didn’t show themselves to be a first-place team, which made sense, given that by the end of the evening’s Phillies business, they had slipped into second. Kodai Senga got to pitching like Kodai Senga a little late. As with David Peterson the night before in New York City’s northernmost borough, he shook off early runs and acquitted himself well over the relative long term, but maybe next time give up absolutely nothing from beginning to end, because your hitters are hardly going to help you at all.

Pete Alonso didn’t hit a home run. Juan Soto didn’t hit a home run. No big whoop on either slugger, except they each thought they hit home runs and responded accordingly, as in not sprinting their backsides off for a few precious feet until they knew for absolute certain their respective balls had soared clean out of sight…which they didn’t. Those are big “whoops!” Perhaps they’ve heard of that very tall green wall in left field that prevents home runs as a matter of course, so maybe don’t assume the long, high fly ball you’ve struck is Lansdowne-bound. As the old saying goes, when you assume, you either get thrown out at second desperately trying to stretch your distant single into a double (Pete) or you have to grab the extra base on a steal after casually settling for your Monster single (Juan). Either way, no runs involving those fellas at Fenway.

Besides not dashing with urgency, the top of the order, including Francisco Lindor, was stuck in place altogether. Soto gave an unsatisfying answer about his concept of hustle after the game. Alonso made an unfathomable throw over Senga’s head during it. The A&S Boys will come around. Lindor, too. It’s just hard to watch while they stall as a unit. To seek solace, you had to travel to the bottom of the order, which was highlighted by Francisco Alvarez and Tyrone Taylor creating the Mets’ only run, in the third, which cut the Red Sox’ lead to 3-1. That two-run deficit yawned clear to the final out. Kodai eventually made his start quality (6 IP, 3 ER), and the newest bullpen lefty, Jose Castillo — the franchise’s twenty-first Jose and fifth-ever Castillo — debuted without a run allowed in the eighth. The franchise’s fifteenth Jose and thus far one and only Butto pitched unscathed as well. As on Sunday, the Mets nurtured the illusion they could rally. Sunday the illusion shattered via the other team’s six-run eighth. Monday it got caught in a gust and wafted away.

Amid the Mets’ last ups, Carlos Mendoza pinch-hit Starling Marte for Brett Baty. Aroldis Chapman was on for the save by then, and it was noted on SNY that Marte was 5-for-15 lifetime versus Chapman. Sure enough, Marte singled. Sure enough, he was erased on a game-ending double play, because this is the world’s grindingest two-game losing streak, but I mention the switch and its success because the manager saw an opportunity and took advantage. I don’t remember the Mets hitter and opposition pitcher from Mickey Callaway’s tenure, but the Mets one weeknight in 2018 or 2019 were facing somebody against whom some Met reserve had outstanding numbers over something like twenty at-bats, yet Callaway didn’t put him in the lineup. Mickey eschewed the small sample size as not a valid reason to play his one potentially hot hand. The inevitable eschewing of Mickey couldn’t come soon enough.

In Boston, where the gale-force winds have been howling hard, the Mets could use some hot hands. They’re pretty fricking cold right now, and it ain’t pretty. An icy Sunday. A frigid Monday. Though it’s only two games, the sample size feels larger, probably because this is their fourth two-game losing streak over the past three weeks. Losing in tiny, recurring clusters certainly beats losing without interruption, but it still involves a bit too much not winning. You don’t have to assume that’s a drag. You’ve felt the Mets dragging for yourself.