I remembered that the Mets had taken part in the Little League Classic before, though in my recollection they’d been walloped by the Phillies, which is further evidence that this woeful baseball summer has been bad for my mental health: In fact, back in 2018 it was the Mets who did the walloping [1].
Maybe it was that I was remembering the dopey softball uniforms they wore back then, complete with not trying very hard player nicknames such as NIMMS and VARGY. Aesthetics definitely took the L back in 2018, even if the Mets did not.
This time around, the Mets were in their classic pinstripes (for a home game in the middle of Pennsylvania, which has got to be a first) while the Mariners were in perfectly tolerable green and gray. Various Mets and Mariners slid down the hill at Williamsport’s Lamabe Stadium atop cardboard sleds, talked baseball with Little Leaguers, and generally conducted themselves admirably before commencing a relatively genial version of hostilities at night.
We got to see some of the pregame pomp, marveling at the teeny tiny stands and the suburban houses tucked beyond the outfield fence. But then it was off to a fancy family dinner, the runup to spending tomorrow wandering around Acadia National Park.
Put three Mets fans at a dinner, though, and they’ll get curious — and forgive each other some peeking at Gameday. Our peeks kept yielding the kind of good news we haven’t been used to of late: There were the Mets actually enjoying good sequencing, with four straight hits and a sac fly transmuted into a three-run second, and against George Kirby [2] no less. There was Clay Holmes [3], surviving a fourth inning and even pitching a fifth. There was Mark Vientos [4], the most notable missing piece in this strange season, connecting for a three-run homer that both he and we badly needed.
Maybe we shouldn’t watch more often, I thought to myself.
We got back to the hotel with the Mets up four and Ryan Helsley [5] in the game, which was at least a blinking yellow light on the vibes display. But Helsley wasn’t terrible; both he and fellow underwhelming acquisition Tyler Rogers [6] made their way through minor to moderate trouble to secure a victory. The only sour note on an otherwise heartening evening was Francisco Alvarez [7] jamming a thumb at second on a double; he’s bound to New York for an MRI.
With the game concluded, the Mets and Mariners stayed with the Little League theme by lining up to shake hands after the game. Did they say “good game, good game, good game” in that “grownups told us we had to” monotone I remember from my own childhood? Oh, let’s assume they did.
It really was a good game [8], at least for us. Kinda makes me wanna slide down a nearby hill.