Game 26 - Mets
Nationals 6, Mets 2
Like I was saying, the Mets are really great.
Not that I expected any less; conveying true, enthusiastic sentiment rather than superstition-tempered tepidity was destined to bring out one of the season's most lackluster outings. On a positive note, the Mets seem to be orchestrating their most atrocious games as a unit, sparking each other to victory most of the time and uniformly collapsing but once or twice a week. I feel like I've heard of this phenomenon, something about cycles synchronizing when you spend this much time together? Anyway, what most irks me is that I had hunkered down for an enjoyable evening of alternately TiVo-ing and toggling between the Mets-Nats and Sox-Yanks but came away with a Mets' turkey and a dramatic Braves' win. Ugh.
At least in my mind, John "Remember the" Maine was supposed to be the young pitcher in the news for a stellar performance last night. Fittingly, he blew up and sank while Mike O'Connor, the young local product for the Nationals, left the erstwhile powerful Mets' lineup scratching its collective head. Maine's outing wasn't so putrid it left nothing to salvage, but he issued doubles like it was Last Call all night, touched for four runs through five while stiffed on run support.
At least Jorge Julio pitched an inning and two-thirds of perfect ball right in my mug. He left a message on my cell phone late last night demanding my resignation on his desk by Monday morning. I'm still weighing my options and consulting my attornies.
Just in case the Pittsburgh Pirates and Ian "What's That" Snell have aspirations of building on the Mets' nine innings of crud, Pedro goes tonight for New York. If he can enliven my spirits with his mere presence 230 miles away, he should be able to easily jazz up the rest of the club, no?