Celebratory Mood

After sitting through Monday's mess of a game I was right back at Citi Field on Wednesday for another Mets/Diamondbacks tilt. Of greater import on this night at least, was the fact that it was the 30th Anniversary of my first Mets game, way back on August 23rd, 1987, as 8-year old me attended a 9-2 Mets victory over the Padres in what was the first of what has now become 416 regular season Mets games. These 416 (plus another 12 in the Postseason) have been more good than bad, even in some of the leanest of years. Even this season, which has been a slog and has seen the Mets struggle mightily at home, I sat at 8-7 for the year, which increased to 9-7 after the Mets celebrated my anniversary with a 4-2 victory.

Chris Flexen was on the mound for the Mets and the last time I saw him things worked out pretty well. It was more of the same on Wednesday. Flexen didn't exactly light anyone on fire, but he also didn't get lit up himself. He allowed a run in the first and a run in the 6th, and in between allowed few hits and no runs otherwise, got bailed out by some solid defense (particularly Juan Lagares, who gunned down a runner at home in the 5th), and finished after 6 innings leading 3-2. This was because Brandon Nimmo, one of those young guys essentially auditioning for a future role, kept getting on base by any means necessary (usually walking), and Michael Conforto, who is also auditioning, but for the more prestigious role of All Star and Batting Champion twice drove him home. Amed Rosario, auditioning for the role of Jose Reyes, also drove in a run.

It was 3-2 in the 6th when Dominic Smith led off against Jake Barrett (who once was a closer and now finds himself journeyman) and hit a Home Run to right. This was the bit of Anniversary verisimilitude I found myself looking for. On August 23, 1987, as I mentioned, the Mets won, 9-2. All I wanted to see that day was for Dwight Gooden to pitch well, Darryl Strawberry to hit a Home Run, and the Mets to win, and I got all 3. On August 23, 2017, I was hopeful to see Chris Flexen pitch well, which isn't nearly as sure of a thing as '87 Gooden, and I wanted the Mets to win, and maybe someone would hit a Home Run. Fitting that it would be Smith, given that he shares Strawberry's initials and is a lefty hitter with some degree of power. I wouldn't go so far as to say that Smith is auditioning for the future role of Strawberry, but perhaps for the role of 1st Baseman with some degree of pop and a good glove is acceptable.

Mostly, though, I just wanted the Mets to win, which has been a tall order these days, but they did manage to do that. Ten years ago, I was at a Mets game on the 20th Anniversary of my first game, and it did not go well. This time, the Mets were in about as celebratory a mood as I was. Which is to say they at least did their best to commemorate the occasion.

Happy Ballclub Day, Revisited

Rejoice with us all, as today The Ballclub celebrates its 8th Anniversary of providing you, loyal readers, with some of the Finest Hardest-hitting most Unique viewpoints on your favorite team and mine, the New York Mets. We are looking forward to April and beginning our 9th season (8th if you really want to be technical since I skipped 2011 altogether, but nobody wants to remember that season anyway) with you all once again. For the first time in many years, Opening Day for the Mets actually feels like something we can all look forward to.

In Favor Of...

Thursday Night, SNY ran their "50 Greatest Mets" program, naturally, counting down the 50 greatest Mets players through their first 50 years. It was, for the most part, standard fare, meaning there wasn't anything surprising about it. No glaring omissions (the only notable name I thought wasn't there was Pedro Martinez, and it's really debatable as to whether or not he should even qualify), and the obvious choice at #1.

The Top 10, however, seemed to be in a rather odd order. Not that I have any real argument with who was there, because they all deserved to be there, but, for example, perhaps Edgardo Alfonzo should be in the top 10. But who, then, doesn't belong? Mike Piazza at #6 was also puzzling to me. Although he never brought a World Series Championship home, you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who was as important to the Mets, particularly at the time he arrived, than Piazza (and really only Keith Hernandez comes close, and he wasn't the hitter Piazza was).

At #8 was David Wright. Behind Carlos Beltran, among others. George and I had discussed this at a game earlier this season, and earlier this week, he noted to me once again that Wright is probably deserving of being up among the Doc/Darryl level of Met Royalty, and assuming he remains a Met, will probably end up doing so whether he is a champion or not. David Wright's hit early in Friday Night's forgettable game was the 1300th of his career, placing him a mere 150 or so hits off Ed Kranepool's team record. Of course, Kranepool holds many team offensive records by virtue of being a compiler, and not necessarily an actual star, which David Wright is.

It's funny how many people have crapped on Wright over the past few years, even going so far as to say that the Mets should have let him go instead of Reyes. Although he'd had a couple of middling seasons the past couple of years, those were partially caused by injuries and the fact that he just didn't have anyone around to protect him. And he had this habit of putting too much on his shoulders. This season, he looks like the David Wright of 05-06-07. It's as though all the talk made him mad and mean, and he's come out this season ready to give his critics a giant middle finger. 

I suppose it's tough to find Wright's proper place in Mets history because his story is still being written, whereas everyone else in the top 10 has either left the Mets or is retired. But outside of the rare instances of a Darryl Strawberry or a Jose Reyes, the Mets really haven't had a great, landmark offensive player in their history. It's a team that has always built around a tradition of great pitching. This is one particular reason why I think it's important that Wright stays with the team. If he plays a 15-year career out with the Mets, he'll be the one to hold all these offensive records, and he'd be richly deserving of it. He already passed Strawberry's team RBI record this season, and he's a few years off from catching Straw's Home Run mark of 252. Kranepool's hits mark will probably fall early next season, although should he continue at his current clip, this season certainly is a possibility. He also stands to pass Jose Reyes' team Runs scored record. And I'm sure there are other marks he's well within reach of.

To this point, a World Series Championship has eluded Wright, which may hurt his overall standing. Everyone in SNY's top 5 won a Championship. But, such a standing can't solely be based on Championships. Players like Ernie Banks and Ted Williams are All-Time greats, and they spent most of their careers slogging away on lousy teams. Being probably the best offensive player in team history should count for something, and probably place him higher on this list. George believes Wright is already worthy of being on the level of Doc/Darryl, and I'm inclined to agree. By time he's done, assuming he sticks around, he could well be worthy of a Hernandez/Piazza level, and should he bring home a Championship or two, well, he could very well be in the discussion with Tom Seaver himself. Time, as always, will tell.

The 50-50 Club

The Mets lost last night, in an eminently forgettable game to the eminently forgettable Houston Astros. This appeared to be a game that the Astros won in spite of themselves. While the Mets on paper look bad but have played well, the Astros actually are as bad as they look. Their basic lack of improvement following a 104-loss season should indicate as much. This makes their victory last night slightly more galling, considering that their bullpen is so awful that Astros manager Brad Mills actually used 7 different pitchers to get through 7 consecutive batters in the late innings. But somehow, they managed to scrape out the winning run when Terry Collins' non-move, to remove Manny Acosta, blew up in his inexcusable second inning of work. I'm known to blast off on certain players, and, rest assured, a full-scale diatribe against Manny Acosta is indeed percolating, but it's not quite ready yet.

The Astros, of course, are the 1962 brethren of the Mets, and their paths have crossed in some fairly memorable battles over the past 50 years. And, of course, their share of clunkers. What seems odd, however, is that this apparently is going to be the Mets last trip to Houston as a National League team. In a rather innocuous move which I don't think anyone is going to really start complaining about until they see how ridiculous it is, the Astros are going to be incongruously moved to the AL West next season, giving Major League Baseball two 15-team leagues. This also means that there will be interleague play going on all season long. Which means that the AL Fatboys are going to start clamoring for the NL to adopt the DH. And so on, and so forth.

I'm fairly certain little good will come of this. I, and most NL fans, tend to be purists. We like our quick, moderately low-scoring, strategy-filled affairs, replete with pitchers having to take their hacks. The Fatboy argument, of course, is that the NL is the only league in professional baseball where the pitcher bats, and they even employ a DH in Spring Training games. A fair argument, but the NL ultimately requires thinking and strategy in their games, something that has always appealed to me. The NL is the Thinking Man's league, whereas the AL basically just requires you to put on your shades, tilt back your head and wait for someone to hit a 3-run Home Run. And yet somehow, some NL team is going to have to be forced to be subjected to this on any given day, even in the thick of a pennant race. I mean, really. The AL? The DH? The DH is a position that has kept guys like Bob Hamelin, Rob Deer and Adam Dunn employed. The Designated Fatboy, the 3-run HR and 4-hour games. Gotta love that American League ball.

My sincere hope is that this is just an experiment, and maybe they'll go back, or maybe someone in Bud Selig's office will wake him up, wipe the drool off his chin and smack him across the face, but, unfortunately, this is probably going to be here to stay. So, Houston, farewell, at least for the next few seasons, until our paths cross again. May we always remember your storied National League tradition.