When the Mets edged the Braves in the afternoon portion of Wednesday’s day-night “doubleheader” at Citi Field (if they scan for tickets twice, then it’s really just two wholly separate games played on the same day), it was both satisfying and mystifying. The satisfaction came mainly from the Mets having extended a winning streak to three games for the first time since they won four in a row to close out May. Lest we forget, the middle win of this aberrational trio was attained by a score of 14-3, registered not four weeks after the Mets had lost in Atlanta by the very same score of 14-3. The 14-3 loss on the Fourth of July represented only the fourth time the Mets had ever lost by that exact score. And the 14-3 win on July 27 represented only the fourth time the Mets had ever won by that exact score. Same Met team. Same Brave team. Same month. I’m still satisfied from having sussed out this discovery.
The mystery angle of Wednesday afternoon sat a bit inside the realm of “how did they do that?” — going 2-for-12 with runners in scoring position and leaving nine men on base doesn’t seem like a recipe for success — but mostly revolved around not knowing what to make of this 3-2 victory besides understanding it was a product of solid pitching, a modicum of timely hitting, and whatever was ailing Atlanta.
The Manaeassaince continued in earnest, with lovable ol’ Sean going six two-run innings and reasserting himself as a legitimate major league starter. Good news for us, unless this makes him trade bait. Then we go from “Sean is back!” to “who’d we get back for Sean?” Similarly, the frontline of the righthanded relief corps each contributing a scoreless frame was straight from the diagram of bullpen like it oughta be, except because it was July 29, and the trade deadline is August 3, and the 2026 Mets are the 2026 Mets, does that mean Huascar Brazobán goes? How about Luke Weaver? All one sees when a new pitcher comes into a game this week is how much (or how little) David Stearns will get in exchange for a functioning arm ideal circumstances would keep in Queens. Devin Williams and his contract don’t get mentioned much in this context, thus he appears ensconced to be issued the Mets’ weekly save opportunity.
The Met runs were driven in by three fellas under the age of 25, which is what we who have absented ourselves from the leaguewide pursuit of a playoff spot are supposed to be living for this time of year in a year like this. Play the kids, and get more kids. One of those who delivered an RBI was Francisco Alvarez, an elder in the Mets’ nascent youth movement. Somewhere along the way, the now 24-year-old Francisco crossed that line from young player with a potentially promising future to young player with a relentlessly frustrating present. His good couple of days at the plate could be taken for progress. Or a sign to move him while he’s hot. A.J. Ewing and Carson Benge can get hits and make catches (the more splendiferous the better) to their and our hearts’ delight. They’re not going anywhere at this deadline. Neither are we. The first game of the two-admission twinbill ended the season’s first half, with the Mets ascending to a record of 46-62. Doing the math to extrapolate their 162-game pace therein will only do a disservice to your well-being.
One can still be a happy with a 3-2 win in the afternoon, especially over the Braves. How happy is a question best left to instinct.
The nighttime portion Wednesday, compelled by rain Tuesday, was already a victory of sorts in that it inconvenienced Atlanta. The Braves generally don’t give their visitors a break by scheduling Getaway Day day games. The Mets had been courteous in making Wednesday’s planned series finale a matinee, a courtesy not extended them whenever they’re finishing up at Truist Park. Because of weather, the Braves wouldn’t be flying into Atlanta until pretty late Wednesday night/Thursday morning, likely making them a touch more tired than they thought they’d be today. HA!!
That’s about as “of sorts” as a victory can be, but we were entering the final third of a season on pace for 69 wins. We’ll take our victories, even the spiteful ones, thank you very much. Our pace, incidentally, isn’t carved into a predestined path. If we pick up the pace a tad, as out-of-it Met teams have been known to do — whether it’s from dealing the veterans, playing the kids, or luck balancing out — we might win a few more. I don’t want to say this too loud, lest some algorithm decide I need to see more gambling come-ons, but I wouldn’t bet against the Mets breaking the 70-win barrier before this dreary business concludes. It would probably require more three-game winning streaks occurring with greater frequency than every two months, but the Mets, identity of the components constituting them to be fully determined once the deadline passes, are bound to improve marginally after two-thirds of a season spent being not very good. I hesitate to say things can’t get worse than they’ve been (recent robust three-game winning streak notwithstanding), because that resides in the department of daring the Mets to do their worst. That can always happen around here.
The Mets didn’t necessarily do their worst on Wednesday night. They just didn’t do much versus Chris Sale, who they at least nicked for a few markers during that 14-3 loss on July 4. They’re hardly the first team about whom little can be said regarding their offensive effort when facing one of the most stifling lefties of his era. I’m sure they tried to hit him this time around. They didn’t much succeed. Benge singled. Eric Wagaman, who has assumed Juan Soto’s roster spot to zero fanfare and even less playing time, also singled. Those singles were a couple of innings apart. Not much in the way of rallying. Christian Scott was his own version of effective. Our youthful righty didn’t smother Brave bats as thoroughly as southpaw Sale did for the opposition, but it was heartening to watch him work. Christian posted zeros for five innings, then gave up only one run in a tough sixth, leaving the bases loaded in the process. Most nights — and during the day Wednesday — that would be enough to put a pitcher in line for a win.
At the risk of letting a fan’s imagination run modestly wild, Manaea (if he remains a Met) and Scott combining with Nolan McLean and h-less Zac Thornton doing what they’ve been doing lately has put me in mind of Earl Weaver’s famous formula for winning: get pitching and get three-run homers. We may have the former. We’ve gotta work on putting together more of the latter.
For the Mets on Wednesday night, it was pitching and no-run homers, no runs at all, a 1-0 defeat that was primarily Sale (6 IP), along with some dispiriting flailing at the Braves bullpen. Our night shift relievers were pretty good themselves. A.J. Minter gave the scouts a solid inning. Cionel Perez and Daniel Duarte may be putting themselves on some GM’s radar. Trade deadlines can make a lot of penmen popular.
A sweep of this so-called doubleheader might have left me awash in more mystification. How thrilled should I be now that we’ve climbed to…how far below .500 are we, again? Instead, I encountered only the familiar sensation of a Met loss, albeit with the wrinkle that it took place in a lost season’s final third. Fifty-three more games with these Mets, whoever these Mets will be by the fifty-third of them.
