So often tempted to refer to any given Met loss as a “microcosm” of the portion of the season that has been defined by the club’s long, gradual decline from surefire playoff participant to accidental late-September survivor, I wondered if the bigger picture from which microcosm is derived is technically referred to as a “cosm”. It is not. The word I was looking for was “macrocosm,” though cosm would be more satisfying, given that it is a four-letter word, and certainly these Mets inspire a string of those.
I found Wednesday night’s 10-3 debacle versus the Cubs at Wrigley field just another piece of the Met macrocosm that has expanded out into the universe day by day, defeat by defeat, debacle by debacle, interrupted only by the anomalous wins that have — along with various Red and Diamondback inadequacies —mysteriously kept this 81-77 Met team clutching the final Wild Card position in the National League.
The final Wild Card position in the National League is a diplomatic way to say sixth-best record in the circuit. This is what is being fought over. Or actively eschewed by three so-called contenders, if we were suspicious types. The Reds lost in eleven innings Wednesday night. The Diamondbacks also lost in eleven. The Mets didn’t bother making it look close. If trying not to win is the actual aim of this clumsy scrum, the Mets haven’t yet proven themselves quite good enough to intentionally blow it.
We’ll take it on faith they were trying to win on Wednesday night and were not up to the task on almost any front. Starting pitching, via the Jonah Tong from a couple of outings ago, was not viable. Relief pitching, which included a couple of starters, was not effective. Defense, save for one sweet throw home from the reactivated Tyrone Taylor, was mostly absent. Hitting, sans Francisco Alvarez’s best longball efforts, lacked even momentary impact. The manager said some version of “we’re going through it right now” afterwards. That’s one of Carlos Mendoza’s pet phrases, like “traffic” to refer to baserunners and “we’ve got to be better” to refer to the state of things. All the Mets do is go through it. They’ve yet to come out of it.
A microcosm implies the elements of a situation have been distilled into a handy snack pack that allows closer examination and deeper understanding. Nah, losing as the Mets lost on Wednesday night is just one more glob of erratic futility that should have ended the Mets weeks, maybe months ago. But the sixth-best record is still out there for the taking, and the Mets still inexplicably hold it. Stave off explanations for four more games, accidentally win enough of them, and, in the face of the mysteries of the macrocosm, this baseball team actually becomes a bona fide playoff participant.
Will the wonders of the universe every cease? I guess we’ll find out by Sunday.
I’m…genuinely torn. As much as I want our beloved Metroplitans to rise above their still-perplexing mediocrity, as much as I want them to gain the playoffs and regain their earlier form as mighty colossus, I don’t.
It’s easier that way, and much gentler on my psyche than it is watch them lurch from game to game, never sure of which iteration is going to show up.
So, see you at 7:10 tonight, and every night till the season is over. Let’s go.
What I find “weird” is Todd Zeile’s unique syntax – or lack thereof.
More Jim Duquette please!
Last night, the Mets’ Binghamton affiliate won the Double-A championship in Erie, Pa.
At the same time they were doing that, the player most responsible for that Binghamton championship couldn’t make it out of the third inning in Wrigley Field.
Five weeks ago, Jonah Tong was in Double-A. Last night he was thrust into a critical start in the middle of an MLB wildcard race because of the failings of the ill-conceived MLB starting rotation that David Stearns threw together.
I think I’m glad I can’t watch. I’m currently setting up a second house and the screens aren’t delivered until tomorrow. I guess I could watch on my laptop but have things to do. So I scoreboard-watch via espn gamecast. Closely until this seems needless such as after the 3rd yesterday, then glancing in occasionally.
Funny thing is I started scoreboard watching Pirates-Reds and Dodgers-Diamondbacks more closely.
If I wanted to feel true sympathy it would be for what Tigers and Astros fans have been going through. After all, the Mets have given indications since June that the house of cards could collapse. But those two gave no such warnings (Tigers did come out of the ASB slow but straightened out pretty convincingly) until recently. But for now I’ll wallow in my own resigned displeasure (I guess, nothing so strong as misery, that’s for when you didn’t see it coming).
A win tonight eliminates Miami. That’s not nothing.
Any team can win 4 in a row; even the 1979 Mets were capable of doing that at some point in the season.
I had figured the Mets needed 86 wins to make the playoffs… now it looks like 84 will do it, maybe even 83. I was fully anticipating the post from Greg sardonically comparing this version to previous years when they won 84… but they never have (which I’m sure Greg already knew). So now maybe I’ll cheer for winning the 6th place trophy with 83 wins and getting the shot that the 1970/1971/1972/2005 teams never did.
I do occasionally wonder what the members of, say, the 1985 team with 98 wins and no postseason think of the current situation. Most are probably too polite to say anything out loud.
A great deal is being assumed here, so please allow me to play as well:
If the WC was in place in 1985, Davey’s underachievers would not have made the playoffs then, either. After all, in any close ‘race,’ Davey’s teams never came through.
I wish we had some of those “underachievers” now, that’s for sure.
Hey, come on, the defense only gave up 10. We just need to maybe install some play action or something on offense to…
Hold on, I’m being handed a note…
Nevermind.
I’m not sure which cosmic moniker to apply to this weird team, because clearly they’ve angered some macrocosmic baseball god.
this season’s trajectory is the (dark) mirror image of the last.
as though someone made a deal with the devil or a devious genie last year, and the bill is being paid with these 3.5mos of slow, painful (and numbing) collapse.
i say let’s get it over with already.
The deal with the devil was made — the night of October 25, 1986.
nah. 2015 was pretty magical after the deadline.
if the mets don’t sweep the cubs and have fewer days off before KC; if cespedes doesn’t boot that first hit; if familia doesn’t get so cute with his quick pitch – and if harvey doesn’t pressure/bully terry into keeping him in, maybe there’d have been a parade on south broadway.
(assuming also strikeouts/flyouts and *not* the series-dooming groundball errors from murph and duda…and wright.)
and if you take a rusty and unprepared (wtf?) senga out of 2 games 1 in favor of a (then) deserving peterson, perhaps the mets have a chance to clinch in game 6 with all hands on deck, and not rely on the 2025-preview version of manaea.
human errors, bad decisions all.
this year though the curse explanation is completely plausible ;0]
Well, we had a better team than KC in 2015, so it must have been that deal with the devil in 1986.
BTW, regarding my previous comments on Darling being a blatant over the air homer, he just said Nimmo got his hand in, while Mendoza did not challenge.