Game 150 - Mets
Nationals 9, Mets 8
It just keeps getting better and better.
John Maine was hammered again, raising his ERA above 4.00 for the first time all season. (His August was a humid 6.32, while his September is the beginning of Fall at 9.20.) Moises Alou extended his hitting streak as well as the notion that his 41-year-old body won't hold out. The defense finally came to play, the concentration seemed vastly improved (perhaps the players only meeting helped), and they couldn't keep the lowly Nats in the cavernous park.
Your Washington Nationals . . . last in just about every offensive category (their nostrils are neatly trimmed), projected by some idiots to lose 100 games, and rising to the occasion to whip the Mets. Give Manny Acta a bunch of credit. He is managing like it matters (nine pitchers used last night) and has his team fired up. If I have to return to this space in the very near future to denote a letdown against the Phillies, I will have nothing but bile for this club, but you have to tip your cap to them.
And while you're doffing the cap, maybe use it to flog the Mets? Losable wins, losable wins, losable wins. The Phils keep winning, as if . . . you know . . . they really want this division title. The Mets? Questionable at best.
I keep hoping, and perhaps even believing, that this is the storm before the calm, that these weeks are dues-paying time and a chance for peripheral bandwagoners to get bumped off. A thinning of the herd coupled with a sweetening of the ultimate result. At this point, if the Mets manage to win the NL East, it'll be 1,000 times more gratifying than it might've been if they'd cruised to victory with ease.
So thanks, Metsies, for fostering appreciation and intensifying our eventual joy. You guys are cool like that.