Dodging Raindrops and Glamour

Big league ballplayers aren’t usually told to keep their day jobs, because they tend to work nights. Wednesday, the Mets were told to forget about their night jobs — fellas, you’re working the day shift.

The change in their schedule, necessitated by a rainy forecast, didn’t appear to sit well with them. The White Sox, adhering to the same alteration of routine, responded better, outplaying the Mets in all facets of the game and salvaging the series finale at Citi Field, 9-4. The Sox featured one of our former pitching prospects, Mike Vasil, mowing down his erstwhile acquaintances and would-be teammates for three scoreless middle innings. Mike was a Rule 5 escapee over the winter. He passed through the Phillies, then the Rays, finally landing with Chicago ahead of Opening Day. Vasil has to stick with the Sox all year or be offered back to the Mets for a pittance. I don’t know what roster machinations are pending on the South Side, but based on his accumulation of zeroes, I wouldn’t think Mike will be let go again so soon.

Other than a Mark Vientos three-run homer that briefly created the illusion of a close ballgame, the only thing the Mets had going for them on Wednesday afternoon — besides successfully dodging raindrops — was the presence of another pitcher on the periphery, Brandon Waddell. We met Waddell, up from Triple-A, during the Mets’ home series versus Arizona at April’s end. He was the bulk guy in a bullpen game that night, pitching four-and-a-third shutout frames. The lefty’s reward was an immediate return trip to Syracuse. It was a one-day assignment then, just as his stay in Queens amounted to a drop-by this time.

Waddell has dropped by lots of towns in lots of leagues since turning pro in 2015. A two-year detour in Asia seemed to do him a world of good. After brief stints between 2020 and 2021 with the Pirates, Twins, Orioles, and Cardinals, he tried his hand in the KBO and Chinese Professional Baseball League, doing well enough in both circuits to attract the attention of the contending Mets. The contending Mets have consumed their relievers for the past week, chewing them up and trying like the dickens not to spit them out. All those innings this one or that one can’t quite get out of represents a disturbing workload for that one and this one who succeed them on the mound. Waddell was recalled as a hedge against overburdening the guys who know they’ll be here the next time the Mets are on the field.

Each reliever who is secure in the Mets’ bullpen plans please take a step forward. Not so fast there, Brandon…

Wednesday became Waddell Day once the White Sox essentially tossed Griffin Canning into the recycling bin. Brandon entered in the fourth and stayed through the eighth. His outing didn’t match what he did versus the Diamondbacks. There were lots of hits and multiple runs allowed. The Mets as a whole looked sleepy and shapeless. They just needed somebody to get them to Thursday’s off day. Waddell achieved that. When Friday arrives, it seems unlikely he’ll still be here. Syracuse is the home of fresher arms. Brandon’s arm was fresh when it reappeared in the Mets’ midst. It was used for 94 pitches Wednesday, making him unimaginable as a long man for the weekend ahead. Syracuse is also the home of arms that have ceased to be fresh and therefore aren’t immediately useful downstate.

Soaking up innings is nothing to squawk at.

It wasn’t mopup duty, per se, but the job that required filling was soaking up innings before Citi Field absorbed rainfall. Brandon Waddell got that job done. He’s now made two relief outings in 2025, with nine-and-a-third innings delivered and absolutely no glory involved. The Mets lost that Diamondbacks game and they lost this White Sox game. In the meantime, Waddell collected a couple of slivers of service time and enjoyed the amenities of a major league clubhouse. Maybe he’ll be back with the Mets. Maybe somebody will take a closer look at him and figure a way to grab him, giving him a chance to make a deeper impression à la Vasil for Chicago. Pitchers on the periphery bounce around. Thinking about the journeyman aspect of a glamour profession puts me in mind of what the talking birds on The Flintstones who served as prehistoric car horns and intercoms would say about their lot: it’s a living.