The Mets, being on the West Coast this week, kind of accidentally fell into my schedule. Of late, I've been coming home and if I don't knock out completely I come very close to it and therefore a large swath of the early innings of games have been lost to me. I'd blindly assumed that this would happen again; not so much because I forgot the Mets were playing in Arizona (who is sometimes on Mountain time and sometimes on Pacific time and because I'm not in Arizona I don't care), but because I'd incorrectly assumed the game started at 9, and not 9:30. So I got up to make dinner, assuming I'd be turning things on in the 2nd inning, and instead was greeted with a boisterous greeting from cheerful Gary Cohen and crotchety Keith Hernandez, who probably isn't the best choice to send to Arizona but then again, I'm not the travel director. Shots of Cactii gave way to the inside of
And that's about all anyone should want to remember here. Bartolo Colon didn't have it, he looked tired and sweaty and when he looks tired and sweaty that's never a good sign. He somehow gutted his way through 5 innings, giving up 7 runs and 22 extra base hits, most of them by Welington Castillo and Michael Bourn, and, really, the game was cooked before it started. Robbie Ray, who has absolutely no business torching the Mets like this, didn't stifle them quite as hard as he did last week, and even gained the ignominious honor of being the first pitcher to walk Bartolo, but he still kept them in check and by time the bats awoke, it was far too late for anything meaningful to happen.
And, as such, all we should remember from this one is that Bartolo Colon continues to do miraculous things on the Baseball field, even on nights when he pitches like a normal 43-year old.