Back To Zero

I was right back at Citi Field this evening, two nights after witnessing Syndergaard perform a clinical dissection of the Washington Nationals. But for as good as Syndergaard was on Tuesday, that's how badly Matt Harvey pitched tonight.

Few things are more galling than watching the Mets get whipped by a division rival, and this certainly qualified as a whipping. But watching Matt Harvey just get taken apart in the 3rd inning really bugged me. No, Harvey wasn't helped by a pair of defensive miscues by Asdrubal Cabrera and Michael Conforto in a 3rd inning sequence where the Mets appeared to abandon all ability to play defense. But those things happen in Baseball and as a Pitcher you learn to work through them. Or, you implode completely. Harvey, who has the talent and the track record to make you think he can work through them, did the opposite.

He'd done himself no favors already by allowing Daniel Murphy to tee off and hit one over the Center Field fence on an 0-2 pitch in the 3rd inning, thereby removing any and all good will left towards Murphy as he essentially skipped around the bases (and let's not forget the crap he pulled with Cespedes in the 2nd). The 3rd inning was just a massacre. Harvey already was in trouble when he loaded the bases with 1 out and Ryan Zimmerman at the plate. Zimmerman, of course, hit the necessary ground ball but Cabrera booted it and a run scored. Anthony Rendon followed by hitting a line drive to left, which probably should be caught 103 times out of 100, except that Michael Conforto had a moment with Baseball and it clanked off his glove to plate two more runs. From there, Harvey basically turned into Jon Niese and it wasn't a pretty sight. By time Collins mercifully removed him from the game, the score was 9-1, people were starting to leave and those remaining showered him with boos.

I'm never a big proponent of booing my own team, and certainly I let the other fans there speak for themselves. In this instance, Harvey probably deserved to be booed. This hasn't been anything resembling a good start for Harvey and as it's continued, he seems to become more and more befuddled to the point where he's now going around with that hangdog John Maine look on his face. And I've now compared him to two different middling Mets pitchers, and that's not what Harvey is or purports to be. But when you portray yourself the way Harvey does, you open yourself up to a large amount of criticism for not performing up to level. The Media has already had a field day tap dancing on Harvey this season and I can only imagine what sort of things people will write come tomorrow morning. Then, you have the fan response and there are plenty of fans who have developed a distaste for Harvey following the inning-limit flap and the World Series business, again, I can't say I agree with them, but they're fans just as much as I am, and you know, when you go to a game, and you expect Matt Harvey to pitch a good, competitive game and he vomits up 9 runs in 2.2 innings and you now have to sit through 6 innings of worthless baseball, sure, you have every right to be pissed off.

Maybe all of this is a blessing in disguise. I know that if nothing else all athletes are prideful and often insecure, and this has to be incredibly injurious for Harvey, who has exhibited tendencies of both traits. But sometimes getting totally dressed down like this causes you to regroup, get back to basics and fix whatever the issue is, if it's physical, mental, mechanical or whatever. This happened to the Mets as a team last season when they got no hit by the Giants and, yes, it got worse before it got better, but it did get better. Harvey can get better too. He has to, because I don't think it's quite possible to pitch much worse.

Good News!

The Mets did not hit into any Double Plays last night! Hooraaaaaaay!

Then again, the only Met who was batting was David Wright, and that was on West 53rd Street, taking batting practice against David Letterman.

The day off should, if nothing else, allow the Mets to regroup from their miserable efforts over the weekend, in which they looked bad and the fans let them know it, both in the stands and elsewhere.

I've already made mention of the lack of patience the fans are going to have with the team this season. The first, last and only reason is because of the way last year ended. You didn't have to be a genius to know that if the Mets got off to even a slightly lethargic start this year, the fans would immediately be up in arms, getting on players, getting on Willie, getting on Omar and everyone else. Nobody's been immune.

It's not going unnoticed by the players. This article in yesterday's NY Times talks about what appears to be an increasing rift between players and fans. Some of the players, Scott Schoeneweis in particular, would prefer to ignore it. Brian Schneider seems upset by it. It's not so much that the fans expect the Mets to go undefeated, as Wagner seems to intimate, but that the Mets seem to lose in ways that are lifeless and lethargic.

The kind of losses that they seemed to have through most of last season.

It's not unlike Mets fans to boo their own players after a particularly bad performance. Or, in the case of Bobby Bonilla, all the time. But the fans reaction this year hasn't been directed at any one particular player, it's been directed at everyone. If they were or weren't on the team last year, they've got to carry the weight of last season.

What they don't seem to understand is that it's not so much the losing that bothers the fans, although it does bother the fans. But to lose in a continued fashion, exuding the intensity of a bowl of rice pudding that really seems to make the fans nuts. It's repeatedly being entrusted with a lead and repeatedly failing that drives us crazy. It's constantly getting men on base and hitting into double plays each time that makes us tear our hair out. If you want the fans to stop complaining, Play Better Baseball, dammit!

It's enough to make me want to call up SNY and ask them to stop replaying last season's games.

Fans Have Not Forgotten, or Forgiven, the Mets [New York Times]

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I had the poor fortune of attending Monday night's game at Shea. Aside from the obvious things that happened during the game (as detailed in El Guapo's post here), there were some other things worth pointing out. Basically, Chan Ho was who we thought he was: A mediocre pitcher who gave us a mediocre outing. I have rarely, if ever, left a game early, but in the 4th inning, after Hanley Ramirez's moon shot off Park, I almost cut my losses and headed home.

But, something told me to stay. I at least got to see the Mets make it somewhat interesting before eventually falling short 9-6. Kudos to Beltran for his 4 hits, and Green and Reyes also chipped in with some key hits.

Lost, if you shut off the game early or you were present and didn't stick it out was one of the more disturbing phenomenons developing at Shea lately.

David Wright is being booed. Loudly and willingly.

I was sitting near a group of 5-6 gentlemen, who stuck it out most of the game. Wright was, at the time, mired in the middle of a miserable stretch that he has begun to come out of with some strong performances on Tuesday and Wednesday. But let's flash back to the 7th inning on Monday. Beltran and Delgado have singled to lead off against Olsen. The game is still on the Marlins' side, at 8-4, but the Mets have rallied and appear to be on their way to doing so again. Olsen is removed from the game and is replaced by Randy Messenger. Wright is up, and, to this point has had a horrible game. In the first, with 2 on and 2 out, Wright popped out to second. In the 3rd, with 2 on and 2 out, Reyes and Beltran pull off a double steal before Wright flied out to right. A hit in either of those two spots would have made this game much more interesting.

One of the gentlemen near me states, "He better get a hit here, or I'm booing the shit out of him!"

One of his friends objects.

"You can't boo your own guys!"

"Hey, you don't perform, you get booed. Beltran got his, now it's Wright's turn."

In sequence, Wright takes two fast strikes, and hacks wildly at the 3rd pitch, foul tipping the ball into the catcher's glove. Strikeout. Rally short-circuited.

And the boos begin.

In the 9th, leading off, Wright grounds out weakly. He's frustrated. He's bewildered. He's booed some more.

And it bothers me. Why boo your own guys, especially guys who have done well, and are counted on to be the cornerstone of your team. I can understand the guy's point, that you're going to be judged by your performance. In 2005, Carlos Beltran underperformed after coming in with a huge contract, and he was booed. He was even booed after going hitless through the first two games in 2006, before responding with a standout season.

But the prime example of the fickle-ness of Mets fans would be throughout the summer of 1998. Mike Piazza had arrived with the franchise player tag, and immediately had unseated the popular, but injured Todd Hundley. Piazza was also set to become a Free Agent following the season. And while Piazza got his share of hits, and HRs, and only managed to hit .348 with 23 HRs during his time with the Mets that year, it wasn't enough to please the fans. Piazza was booed with horrifying regularity, to the point that I cringed every time he made an out. One such game, I had the poor fortune of sitting near some drunken idiot who screamed "YOU SUCK, PIAZZA!" after every pitch of his at bats. With the reception he received, it was a small miracle that Piazza re-signed with the Mets before the 1999 season. But he did. And the result is that he became one of the Greatest Heroes this team has ever seen. The power of patience. And the power of perseverance on Piazza's part.

And other such players have been booed. Glavine, which was justified after his miserable start in 2003, Kaz Matsui, who never lived up to his lofty expectations. Cliff Floyd took his share in '04 when injuries and frustration mounted. Butch Huskey got it during a rough start in 1996 (and he was a rookie, no less).

But I've never really been able to see it fit to boo my own team's players. You stick by your team. They may piss you off sometimes, but you have to stick by them. Sometimes, they really do deserve it, as in the case of Mel Rojas, whose continued flameouts in 1998 probably cost the team a playoff berth, or Roberto Alomar, or Roger Cedeno the second time around. But there's only one case where I can say that booing your own team's player regularly and vociferously was truly earned...

...You guessed it. Fuck you, Bonilla.