I greeted Juan Soto [1]’s bottom-of-the-ninth solo home run with more enthusiasm than Juan Soto greets extra-base hits he has to gather and fire back into the infield, which is to say with minimal enthusiasm. Until he ended Gavin Williams [2]’s no-hit bid Wednesday afternoon, I’d allowed myself to almost root for the no-hitter to happen. Almost. Once it wasn’t going to happen, well, good — the Mets just scored a run to cut the Guardians’ lead to 4-1 and maybe they’ll get a couple of runners on, bring the tying run up, and remind us of who they are or at least who they seemed to be not that long ago.
They didn’t do any of that, but at least they didn’t get no-hit [3]. Spiritually, they’ve been no-hit for the last week-plus. Statistically they’ve gotten hits. The hits haven’t much mattered. The Mets are playing like nothing matters, and what if it did? I thought they were a special team when the season started and progressed, even when it ran into rough spots. Now I wait for these players to coalesce into something resembling cohesion. They’ve come together of late mostly to not get base hits in unison.
A tip of the hat need be directed toward the opposing pitcher. Permitted to remain on the mound and chase history, Williams retired a major league lineup over and over without allowing a hit across eight-and-a-third. I know the Mets constitute a major league lineup because I’ve seen the Major League Baseball logo stitched onto the backs of their caps and jerseys. That’s the only clue I have.
Watching a no-hitter would have been novel. A dreary loss was more same old squared. The Mets have lost eight of nine. They’ve tried astoundingly frustrating [4]. They’re tried deadly dull [5]. Might as well mix it up with a game that pops, even if it pops for the wrong team. Then again, the Mets simply winning would be novel. Maybe they’ll try that in Milwaukee.