“The Mets are a team bursting with all the desperation, psychosis, pain, chaos, and cruel optimism for a better future that persists though civilization’s sunset. We watch the catastrophe unfold, refusing to fully admit our doom…”
—A.M. Gittlitz, Metropolitans
Today I decided the Mets would win a ballgame. They were playing the Cubs on a Friday afternoon at Wrigley Field, where everything except the ivy appeared summerlike. Back here in New York, I know everything felt summerlike. We’re two months from summer. Why not take premature wonderful weather as an omen?
At Wrigley, a summerlike afternoon has always offered the possibility of The Wind Blowing Out, meaning the hits would accumulate, the homers would fly, and the Mets might win by some absurdly high score. Why not in this game?
Carlos Mendoza and whatever committee that weighs in on the subject had shuffled the lineup. Carson Benge would bat leadoff. Francisco Lindor would bat third. MJ Melendez, our bolt of offensive lightning from the other night in L.A., would remain relied upon. Maybe a computer spit out this batting order. Maybe nine names went into a hat. However it arrived, why couldn’t it work?
It was fun convincing myself the Mets were going to win. I’m glad I tried it, since it appears envisioning a Mets victory is the only way I’m going to see one.
I was feeling good enough in my faith-based delusional state to withstand the four runs Kodai Senga allowed in the bottom of the first, three when Moises Ballesteros homered with two Cubbies on. As if Mendy’s Metsies were on my wavelength, they answered with three in the top of the second. Melendez was in the middle of that rally. So was Marcus Semien. What’s that old saying about hitters you can wake up in the dead of winter and several months later they’ll finally get a base hit? Way to go, Marcus! And who is that coming through with a two-run single, but Tyrone Taylor? Taylor’s still here, despite my usually forgetting him when doing a quick roster head count, but he occasionally drives in runners. His attempt to stretch his single into a double was cut down at second, which was too bad yet not necessarily a serious setback, ’cause it was Wrigley on a breezy Friday afternoon. There’d be plenty more runs.
In the bottom of the second, there were indeed two more, via a Nico Hoerner homer. OK, being down, 6-3, isn’t the ideal next step when we’ve just closed to within 4-3, but this is merely more proof of concept. Man, what a story the Mets are going to write, breaking their eight-game losing streak by winning an old-fashioned North Side barnburner. Take that, Leo Durocher, wherever you are.
The Mets didn’t lack for the hitting to do it. They rapped out 14 hits in the course of the day. In ten different games, spanning 1969 to 2024, the Mets came to Wrigley Field and recorded exactly 14 hits. Their record on those occasions? A pristine 10-0, winning by classic Wrigley finals like 10-8, 10-9, and 9-8. Those kinds of scores were what I was calculating it would take once the Cubs stretched their lead to 7-3 in the fourth. Heckuva comeback gestating. I was willing to be sure of it.
Problem on Friday was the Mets created only four runs from their 14 hits. They hit OK with RISP (4-for-11) and didn’t leave a ton of runners on (7). The four DPs they hit kept those totals respectable, I guess. The bigger issue was Senga not lasting four innings. And the defense committing a couple of errors, first baseman Brett Baty’s with the bases loaded the most glaring. And Sean Manaea’s innings-eating not going down so smooth as the afternoon grew late. The Cubs totaled 12 runs. Giving up 12 runs while scoring four, in any ballpark, doesn’t break a losing streak.
The Mets have now lost nine in a row for the first time since 2004. They’d gone this long without losing so many consecutively that the last time they did it, there was no Blog for Mets Fans Who Like to Read. It’s still early. Teams have been known to turn around 7-13 starts and play viably when actual summer comes. A dismal stretch like this one doesn’t automatically doom the remainder of a season, though I’m not prepared to project that far ahead.
Right now, I’ll settle for one game won eventually. By the Mets, I mean.
Greg, you’re still a relatively young man. There’s plenty of time for you to see the Mets win a game, it just might be next year. P.S. I still Like to Read!
It sucks to be this pessimistic a few weeks into April, but man do they look lifeless. It’s almost at a point where you stop waiting for the team-wide slump to break, and begin to ponder the possibility that perhaps they just stink. Sigh.