Box Them Up Too

Because, as I mentioned, I'm in the process of moving (and will later this morning actually go through with the process) I haven't had much opportunity to watch any of these games this week, and I feel somewhat the better for it. I feel bad enough having to recap things but man, imagine if I'd subjected myself to a full game this week? Or worse, if I'd gone?

The Mets getting totally swept in the Subway Series sort of signifies the nadir of an era, although since the only time it's happened was in 2003, and that was certainly a nadir, there's not much "evidence" to back that up. I'm not sure that 2017 qualifies as a nadir, although given the way this season has played out, it's felt that way. This series already featured a neutered version of the Mets, who have been sort of lagging along and playing out the string. Wednesday night, both Jose Reyes and Wilmer Flores got hurt before the game started in probably the most Subway Series thing to happen ever, resulting in the folly of Asdrubal Cabrera and Travis d'Arnaud playing musical infield. Then, of course, Steven Matz, who's more resembled a 2003 Met than an 2017 Met, took the mound and was lit on fire, departing after 3.1 noncompetitive innings down 7-0 and basically sealing the fate on this nightmare. A 9th inning Grand Slam from Curtis Granderson did little more than simply delay the miserable end.

I mean, this probably should have happened to the Mets in 2011, not in 2017. I know this interview with Gary Cohen on Mike Francesa the other day has been making the rounds and, well, he's right. Going into this season, I was calling for Mets fans to pound their chests and be overconfident because it begets attitude. There are seasons I over-romanticize because of how the Mets fought down to the end, but years like this? 2017 is going to get tossed in the tire fire with 1992 or 2009 as years we should never speak of again.