I suppose I could take care of Sunday’s game by writing Saturday’s post backwards: The Mets zoomed from amazing back to confounding, the offense was crummy, they wound up way behind before the merciful conclusion [1], and a few hours later the Phillies kicked them out of first place. And all this against the Giants, who fooled people with some early-season eyewash before reverting to being a fundamentally unsound team that can’t play defense and sometimes appears less than interested in the other aspects of baseball.
The highlights? Francisco Lindor [2] hit a home run in the brief pre-debacle part of the game. Austin Warren [3] pitched effectively in bulk relief, for which he’ll undoubtedly be rewarded with a bunch of HR paperwork. Luis Torrens [4] didn’t give up a run, which Ryne Stanek [5] sure can’t say. With the Mets down to a last out in a foregone conclusion, Mark Vientos [6] and Francisco Alvarez [7] didn’t give away ABs and put two runs’ worth of lipstick on the pig.
It’s not a lot to celebrate.
David Stearns has had a pretty good eye for reclamation projects, but it’s getting late for Frankie Montas [8] to add his name to that list. Listening to Montas miss locations and turn his head to watch balls head up gaps and over walls, I kept thinking to myself that it might be time for the Mets to choose an alternate strategy, the exact details of which are to be filled in but which can be broadly summed up as Not Frankie Montas.
The Mets have talked up Nolan McLean [9] and Brandon Sproat [10], both of whom stayed at the trade deadline and are increasingly looking like the lessons they need to learn can only be learned against big-league hitters. Surely a C- with some encouraging teacher comments for McLean or Sproat would be better than another F or D- hitting the desk for Montas. (Speaking of teacher comments, let’s just say Carlos Mendoza [11]‘s postgame review of Montas didn’t drip encouragement: “He has to be better.”)
One other thing did stand out as praiseworthy from Sunday’s game: We were listening to the radio feed, and Howie Rose noted it was the 21st anniversary of Bob Murphy’s death. Howie spent the better part of an inning reminiscing about the father of Mets radio, and he was warm and wise, offering an affectionate look at the past that never strayed into grousing about the present. He also talked movingly about Murph’s last years, not sugarcoating the sadness of watching a great broadcaster in decline. Howie praised Murph’s ability to stay optimistic even during a game that was a lost cause, giving Mets fans something to think about and enjoy; he gave his mentor the best possible honor by doing the same.